Conquest (24 page)

Both Trish and Julian rose and walked to greet them.

Trish smiled and extended her hand to Jesse. “I’m so happy to finally meet you. I almost died when I heard your voice on the demo. It’s so beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Jesse said, thinking he caught a flirtatious tinge in her voice. “I’m kind of surprised to see a woman drummer. If you’re so good, why aren’t you in a band?”

“Jesse!” Kenny scolded. He quickly offered his hand to Trish. “Sorry about him. His mouth and brain work on separate systems.”

Trish giggled. “I can see that.” She turned to Jesse. “I don’t have a band because, as you have so astutely noticed, I have boobs instead of balls, and that can be an issue for some boys. I’m good enough to give them the clean, solid beats they need for their albums, but when tour time comes around, my job is done. When you play live the audience accepts mistakes and sloppy sounds a lot more readily than on a studio recorded album. If this is an issue for you, it’s not a big deal. I can drum on your album, and when you hit the road, you can find a boy to play with.”

Jesse decided to keep the cocky comment that danced on his tongue in response to Trish’s end remark to himself. “The only issue is what you expected when you got propositioned for this gig. If you’re expecting to only be our studio drummer, then this isn’t going to work. If you drum on our album, then you’ll tour with us too, and do all the other stuff like videos and interviews. You’ll be a full member of the band. I just want to let you know so you can decide what’s best for you. I’m not playing games here.”

Trish’s full lips parted with a soft gasp. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Of course, this all depends on if you can really play,” Jesse added, giving a nonchalant flip of his hand. “This is serious music, not Barbie Makes a Record.”
Trish laughed. “Why you little jerk.”

Jesse gave her a wink and a smile, then took a step toward Julian. He looked him up and down as he offered his hand, and decided to test a suspicion he had. “Julliard, huh? Impressive. Just so you know, because I want you to be comfortable in this band from the start, I’m gay.”

“Son of a bitch,” Kenny muttered in disbelief, turning away from Jesse.

One corner of Julian’s lips lifted as he shook Jesse’s hand. “And you won’t be the only one if I get this gig.”
“I hope I’m not your type. It could make things a bit awkward.”

“I think you’re probably about everyone’s type with that pretty face, though I normally go for more of the tall, rugged, athletic boys. And you?”

“I only have one type, and he’s the most breathtaking and talented man in the world.”

“That’s quite a reputation you give him to live up to, but since you’re in a relationship things should be perfect. I absolutely loathe cheaters and have a personal vow to never become one.” Julian’s eyes moved down Jesse’s body. “Your taste in clothing is superb. Versace T-shirt, Gucci belt, Armani jeans…and the most beaten pair of Nikes I’ve ever seen.”

Jesse laughed. “Actually, the Nikes are the only things that belong to me. All the rest are my boyfriend’s. I’ve been staying with him and he doesn’t care if I raid his closet.”

“He’s a true gentleman of sophistication then.”

Jesse nodded and glanced around the room. His smile wavered at what he saw. Kenny stared at him, his mouth agape in a mortified expression. He met Trish’s eyes, but she flicked them away as if pretending they hadn’t made eye contact. Tim looked at Greg with a glory filled sneer that spoke of I-told you-so, and Greg had an expression akin to someone who had bet their lifesavings on the favorite to win the Super Bowl and had just finished watching the team get pummeled. Other than Julian, the only one who didn’t seem rattled was Jeremy, who stood leaning back against the wall sipping his coffee.

“I’m sorry if this is a shock to some of you,” Jesse said. “But it had to come out sooner or later if we’re all going to be working together. If it makes anyone uncomfortable, I guess the only thing I can say is to get the hell over it because it’s just the way things are.”

“Jesse!” Kenny yelled. “Subtlety, dude! Seriously!”

Jesse moved toward Greg, meeting his eyes with a steady stare. “Is this a problem?”
Greg looked into Jesse’s eyes, then shook his head. “No, though Kenny has a point about subtlety. But we’ll discuss that later. Right now, we need to put our attention to the issues of the moment and that’s giving Trish and Julian an idea of your vision for the sound of this album.”
Jesse decided to grant Greg his escape and turned toward the couches. He sat on the one closest to the wall with Kenny on his left, Julian taking a seat on his right, and began passing around his sheet music.

Julian grinned at him as he took his copies. “You’re a bold one, aren’t you?”

Jesse answered him with a smirk and handed Trish her copies. She gave him a weak smile before lowering her gaze to the papers. He had only made enough copies for Greg and two others, so he handed Jeremy his originals to look over since he and Kenny had every note and harmony memorized.

He turned a harsh eye on Tim. “There’s not any left for you.”

Tim shrugged. “I don’t need to look at them.”
“I didn’t figure you did.”

Greg glanced back and forth between them. His gaze came to a rest on Tim. “That’s not exactly the attitude I expect you to demonstrate, Tim.”

The muscles in Tim’s jaw clenched. A strained smile curved his lips, and he leaned over the arm of his chair to look off Jeremy’s papers.

Jesse forced down the burst of glee at Tim’s reprimand and brought his attention to his music. “I guess as far as a vision for sound goes, we’re definitely focused more toward the rock side, but my main thing is to not have it too heavy. I like keeping things light, fast, and fun. That’s why I lay down an electronic backline from the synth in some of our songs, to bring in that extra kick and add some diversity. Between the electronic backbeat and the front rhythms of the drums, that’s why we don’t feel we need a bass player, plus I can play the bass myself in the songs that I feel need it. Basically, we have a lot going on in our songs. They’re refined, but also carry a strong, bold edge. We get our strength from the guitar and drums, our refinement from the keyboard, and the fun, lively part from the electric beat. And obviously, my voice is of unquestionable importance since it’s what everyone really wants to hear.”

Julian sat forward, his thin eyebrows drawing closer in concentration. “In ‘Shattered,’ you go through some fairly complex movements with the piano.”

Jesse nodded. “Yeah, but sadly I’ve always had to use the keyboard to substitute for a real piano during performances, but that won’t be the case anymore since I’m assuming I could have a piano on stage during our live shows.”

“Absolutely,” Greg said.

After an hour of reviewing Conquest’s songs, Greg stood up. “How about we go down to Studio B and have Jesse and Kenny play for us, since if you guys are feeling anything like I am, you’re dying to hear these two without the background static and a hundred drunken women screaming for Jesse to take his pants off like what was on the demo.”

Jesse chuckled as he got up. “Being wicked hot is as much of a curse as it is a blessing sometimes.”
“That ego of yours truly is magnificent,” Julian teased.
“It’s not an ego when it’s the truth,” Jesse retorted.
Everyone followed Greg down to Studio B. They stepped into the live room paneled in golden oak and stocked with a full drum kit, bass guitars, six different types of electric guitars, two acoustics, four keyboards, and a black grand piano. Greg, Trish, and Jeremy gave Jesse, Kenny, and Julian an introductory lesson in setting up the equipment, and an hour later everything was ready to go.
Jesse sat at the piano, doing his vocal stretching exercises by matching his voice to the notes he played.

“Let’s start off with ‘Shattered,’ Jess,” Greg said through the control room P.A.

 

Jesse nodded and continued warming up while Kenny finished perfectly tuning a borrowed Fender Stratocaster.

Greg turned to Tim. “I forgot to tell them they could help themselves to what’s in the fridge. Would you go get him a bottle of water so he can wet his throat?”

“Sure.” Tim shoved his chair away from the control desk. He managed to keep his cool until he stepped out of the control room, then allowed rage to contort his face, and his hands to clench into fists at being the one who had to cater to Jesse. He stomped down to the chill-out room, rounded the corner of the doorway, and stopped in mid-stride at who he was confronted with.

Evan stood by the refrigerator taking a drink from a bottle of water. He lowered the bottle, twisted on the cap, and raised his gaze to Tim.

The lethal glare that greeted Tim forced him to stumble back half a step before he realized he had done so. He caught his reaction and straightened his posture, reminding himself of what Evan was, and almost laughed aloud at being unnerved by one of his kind, but the urge to laugh died quicker than it arose when he saw Evan advancing toward him in long, stalking strides. He stuck out his hand under the pretense of wanting to shake Evan’s, but more to keep distance between them.

“This is a surprise. It’s great to see you again, Mr. Arden.”

Evan smacked Tim’s hand aside with a loud crack and stepped forward until they were inches apart. He lowered his voice to a growl. “Don’t you dare offer your hand to me as if we’re friends.”

Tim swayed backward as though his will battled his body to not back down. “Is there a problem?”

 

“Yeah, there’s a problem. Did you really think he wouldn’t tell me what you accused him of?”

For an instant, Tim forgot the threat standing before him and let his repulsion slip through. “I knew it. He didn’t confirm it that day, but I knew it.”

“You don’t know shit!” Evan roared.
Tim flinched at Evan’s booming voice and fell back a step.

Evan moved forward. “I’m going to make this real clear, and you should consider yourself blessed that you’re getting this warning; if you so much as breathe and it offends him, you’ll be shitting your own teeth for a week courtesy of my fist. You got me?”

Tim gave the smallest of nods.
“Now move the fuck out of my way.”
Tim scurried from Evan’s path.
Evan walked past him, not deigning to spare Tim another

glance. As he approached Studio B, the sound of piano and electric guitar leaked through the open door. When he arrived at the studio, he peeked in and saw Jesse didn’t have anything to drink. Knowing how he personally needed lots of water when singing, he decided to get some for Jesse. He stepped into the control room with everyone’s back to him and saw who he assumed was the sound engineer bouncing behind the control desk, saying, “I’m so excited! I’m so excited! I’m so excited!”

A red haired woman smiled down at the bouncing engineer. “You’re a happy little fellow, aren’t you?”

 

“He’s got a great voice. I feel like I’m getting ready to listen to Evan Arden.”

“So that’s why my ears were ringing. And here I thought it was one too many concerts.”
All the heads in the control room turned to Evan.
“Evan,” Greg said, almost too shocked to get his name out.

Trish sprang between them and pushed her hand toward Evan. “I can’t tell you what an honor it is to meet you, Mr. Arden. I’ve always wanted to play with you.”

Evan took her hand and presented her with a teasing smirk. “My my, aren’t we a forward girl.”

 

Trish’s cheeks flared to crimson. “N-no, that’s not what I meant.”

“Evan, don’t tease her,” Greg intervened. “She’s quite possibly the new drummer for Conquest, Trish O’Connell. And this is Julian Forrester, pianist and prospective keyboardist.”

After introductions, Greg turned to Evan. “I can’t believe you’re here. What made you come down?”

 

Evan nodded toward Jesse. “Him.”

 

“Are you guys ready—hey!” Jesse yelled from the live room, waving wildly at Evan.

Evan smiled and waved back. “He asked me to come here.” Greg’s brow furrowed, his mouth set in a frown.

Evan sat down beside Julian and grabbed the P.A. mic. “Well, are you going to sing, or just sit in there like a little boy with stage fright all day?”

Jesse threw him a playful glare and turned back to the piano. He sounded the first notes of “Shattered,” took a breath, and lifted his tenor in harmony with the instrument.

“I knew he had a voice from the demo,” Trish said, “but it’s nothing like hearing him in person. He’s so clear and pitch perfect.”

“He’s a sound engineer’s wet dream,” Jeremy said. “His style of playing is very classical, too. Very

Mozartesque,” Julian added.
“He’s gifted,” Evan said simply, resting his chin in his hand with his elbow propped up on the control desk, gazing at Jesse as if entranced.

Greg glanced at him out the corner of his eye, then turned back to Jesse. “This song is a destined top single, but I’m thinking I’ll have it released as either the second or third single from the album and come out with ‘Euphoria’ as the first. ‘Euphoria’ has such a good beat and guitar, and I want to set the precedent that Conquest is a rock band who can jam hard as well as put out works like this. Though, the lyrics are weaker in ‘Euphoria.’” He looked at Evan. “He’s not as much of a lyricist as you are, but then, he hasn’t lived as much, either.”

Evan glared at him. “You’re underestimating him.”

Jesse coaxed the last soft note from the piano and looked up at everyone. “How was that?”
“Not bad for a rookie,” Evan answered.
“Hmm, is that jealousy I hear?” Jesse quipped.

“Alright, let’s break for lunch,” Greg said, already walking toward the door. “When we get back, we’ll get you guys out there so they can hear you play, then hopefully we’ll have everyone jamming before the day is over.”

Evan rose to greet Jesse when he walked into the control room, a knowing smile on his lips.
Jesse’s gaze moved slowly over him. Evan wore black leather pants pulled over a pair of black snakeskin boots. His dark blue shirt clung tight to his torso, the front cut open from the collar to mid-chest to resemble a cross. Small blue mesh crosses hinting at his skin beneath patterned the shirt. Silver and thin black leather bracelets dangled from his wrists, and each finger was adorned with silver rings, some set with blue gemstones. He had changed out the two gold hoops he wore in his left ear for two large diamond studs, and in addition, up on the cartilage of his right he had a silver cuff with a cross hanging from it and a blue sapphire in the center. Resting on top of his head was a pair of silver-rimmed, blue lens sunglasses.
Jesse stepped close to him and wrapped his arms around his neck. The instant their bodies met in the embrace, heat rolled through his groin. “Did you get all rock-starred out just for me?”