Playing Along (17 page)

“Uh, no—not really.”

“I doubt Russell will ever let you go, but if he does—call me.”

“Call you? Okay…” says Lexi, questioning if this is some sort of sign she should be following. Did the gooseberry show up this morning to send her in another direction?

“You probably want to see the patient? He’s lying down in my office.”

“Yes, the patient, of course!” says Lexi, her five minutes of fame rapidly evaporating, as she obediently follows Mildred out of the studio.

GEORGE
24
^th
November, 2009
Hollywood, Los Angeles

The band are on their way to pre-record
The Tonight Show
and George and Gabe are talking in the back of the car. Earlier that day George had given the website information of Let The Green Times Roll to Gabe, hell bent on meeting this woman once and for all, although he hasn’t confessed that to Gabe. This was the ideal scenario. If Gabe could set something up, George could meet her like it was totally normal, instead of contacting her directly and being mistaken for a stalker. Gabe is dubious.

“We do our bit, George. I’ve got these things under control. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Humour me, Gabe. I saw the CEO being interviewed and she’s very impressive. Let’s just meet her, okay, and hear a proposal. It’s been on my mind for a while now. I mean look at all the flak U2 got for their tour this year. We need to do more to set an example for our fans.”

“I don’t know, George. I looked at the website. That Russell Hazleton person is a man anyway. He’s got long hair, but he’s definitely a man. He looked like a bit of a weirdo to me.”

George is speechless, “She’s not a man! I saw her on the telly this morning. I would have known if she was a man!”

“Well, I don’t know—maybe he’s a transvestite or something—or had a recent sex change. It is a man’s name, isn’t it?”

“You can’t tell these days. I have a cousin called Rory, and she’s a girl.”

George is bewildered. Could it really be possible that after all these years, he’s fallen in love with a transvestite? No. There must be some mistake. He’s not that thick.

Gabe sighs, clearly running out of patience with the conversation. “Let me look into it when we get home. There’s got to be companies doing the exact same thing in the UK. I’ll ask around.”

George takes a breath, “Gabe—set up a meeting for tomorrow. Trust me. My instincts are telling me something extremely positive could come of this. Let’s meet with her before we go back and then we’ll have something to compare.”

“With him.”

“With her!” This was madness. Why couldn’t destiny be more straightforward?

“Fine, my friend. I’ll happily set up the meeting in the morning, if only to prove to you that the bird’s got balls!”

George laughs at the absurdity of it all, but inside his head he’s imagining Russell walking into the room. He’ll shake her hand. She’ll most likely be ultra professional, not wanting to let on that she’s a fan. Maybe she’s not a fan. Maybe she was just dragged to the show by a friend? Does it even matter? What if she’s married? What if… George tries to stop his thoughts from waywardly spinning. Anyway, all of this could come to nothing, but he can’t risk passing up the chance of it coming to something. Someone. He can’t risk missing the face of this woman again. The song is unfolding in his brain—the lyrics threading themselves together while the piano chords build in the background.

Third time lucky, running, crying, shining

Your face on the screen, wondered where you’d been

You had my heart and you didn’t even know

Holding my heart in the third, third row

LEXI
November 24
^th
, 2009
Venice, Los Angeles

Lexi is on her way back from Abbot Kinney having picked up some sandwiches for her and Russell. After the abrupt turn of events this morning, she had driven Russell home, still a bit shaky but relieved to have re-scheduled his breakfast with Mildred to dinner tomorrow night. Russell had just about recovered from the gooseberry, but not from the humiliation.

“I can’t think what came over me. I mean usually a gooseberry might cause a slight rash on my forearms, but I’ve never had such an extreme reaction to one before.”

“Maybe it was last minute nerves getting the better of you?” suggested Lexi.

“Oh, Lexi—I’m really sorry—I let us all down. And goodness only knows what Mildred thinks of me now, having so generously given me the opportunity to come on her show.” Lexi was feeling a bit peeved that this conversation was all about Russell. What about her saving the day? What about some undying gratitude for her leaping into action when she hadn’t even washed her hair that morning?

“Russell—please—Mildred is totally into you—it’s so obvious. Anyway, situations of adversity often bring people closer together, right? She agreed to dinner, didn’t she?”

“Yes, yes, I know. I’ll have to redeem myself at dinner.”

“Just don’t order anything with gooseberries in it.”

“Lexi, you really were a star today. I mean you were so professional and with no notice at all. To be perfectly honest, I was shocked.”
That’s more like it
, thought Lexi.
Pile it on. I need some love.

“Russell, I just did what had to be done. It should have been you, but like I said before, it’s almost certain that no one saw it.”

“Don’t be so sure of that. Mildred tells me they get very good ratings at that hour. I wouldn’t be surprised if we heard from some small local businesses today. We could be off, off and away…”

Walking back to the house, Lexi wonders now if Russell might be right. How exciting if her appearance has sparked some interest. Just remembering being on camera makes her tingle. She hasn’t had nearly enough spontaneity in her life. She opens the door to find Russell sitting at the kitchen counter with Boris on his lap, looking puzzled.

“What’s up, Russell?” asks Lexi, handing him his alfalfa wrap.

“I’ve just had a rather odd phone call.”

“Explain odd?”

“A gentleman called saying he wants to set up a meeting tomorrow morning to discuss our services.”

“That’s fantastic!” says Lexi, “So?”

“Well, that’s just it… so nothing. He said he didn’t want to give away too much information and would explain more tomorrow.”

“Mysterious!” says Lexi. “Did he mention seeing me on TV?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say. I arranged to meet him tomorrow morning at The Sunset Marquis Hotel at ten a.m.”

“Ooh, that’s right by my apartment. How cool is this, Russell? Your prediction might have been spot on—maybe this is our first client?”

“Maybe. Oh, Lexi, it’s all rather fast, don’t you think? I don’t want to run before I can walk.”

“Believe me, you’ll be great tomorrow! You just had a bit of a setback this morning and it’s knocked your confidence.”

“I suppose,” says Russell. “I mustn’t let a gooseberry get in my way—not when the Climate Conference in Copenhagen is just around the corner. There are changes to be made. Global emissions to be cut, and meetings to be had! We have to start somewhere!”

“That’s better!” says Lexi.

“You
will
come with me though?” asks Russell, looking concerned.

“To the meeting? Do you really think you need me there?”

“I’d like you to be there, Lexi,” says Russell, letting Boris nibble an alfalfa sprout.

“Okay,” says Lexi, enjoying the way this day is progressing. “I’d like to be there too.”

GEORGE
25
^th
November, 2009
West Hollywood, CA

LEXI
November 25
^th
, 2009
West Hollywood, CA

George is nervous. More nervous than he’s ever been. More nervous than when he’s about to go on stage with fifty thousand people waiting to hear him sing. He even thought about what he was going to wear that morning. He tried on two different pairs of jeans and four T-shirts. He brushed his teeth three times. He’s never felt the force of fate quite so strongly. He knows this is meant to be. The question is—meant to be what?

Lexi is curious. She has arranged to meet Russell outside the hotel at 9:50 a.m. She wonders why the phone guy was so secretive. The whole thing might end up to be a big anticlimax. She’s wearing her Theory suit trousers with a white shirt and black flats, and she feels suitably polished. Last night Thesis had been on
The Tonight Show
and she had innocently watched it with Andrew and Carl.

“He’s a hottie,” Carl had volunteered, as George threw himself into “I Knew It,” her second favorite song on the album.

Lexi had shrugged, “Yeah, he’s not bad.” She was working hard on deflating her crush. Fate had other destinations to take her to.

George has suggested to Gabe that the initial meeting be with just the two of them and then, if they’re interested, they can approach the others with the ideas. Gabe is not trying to hide the fact that he has no intention of taking this any further.

“I promise you, George, we’re doing fine. The tour buses all run on diesel. I’ll put energy saving light bulbs in the studio. Buy home grown apples. What are they going to tell us that we don’t already know?”

“Something,” says George emphatically.

There is a knock at the door. George’s heart starts to beat as fast as it did when he was running. Gabe walks across the room to open it, and from where he is standing, George sees a thin man with a long scrawny ponytail and red trousers. What? The man extends his hand to Gabe.

“Russell Hazleton, very good of you to contact me,” Gabe quickly glances back at George as if to say—I told you so. Meanwhile, Russell seems to have a firm hold on Gabe’s hand and is still vigorously shaking away.

“Hi Russell, thanks for coming at such short notice,” says Gabe, opening the door wider and extricating his arm.

“And this is my partner,” says Russell, moving aside, “Lexi Jacobs,” and like an apparition, she appears, behind the red trousers. The third row.
You had my heart and you didn’t even know
.

George moves forward to shake the real Russell’s hand, which he lets go of very hastily and then he is there. Right in front of her. Skin touching skin. She has long elegant fingers. He can see the freckles scattered on her nose like confetti. He already has an urge to kiss them.

“Hello, Lexi, I’m George Bryce.”

Recognition registers on her face and she looks startled. “I know,” she says, “I mean, hello. Hello, nice to meet you, George.” Gabe obviously didn’t tell them beforehand who the meeting was with.

“Shall we sit then? Can I order you some tea, coffee, juice?” says Gabe, gesturing to a round table in the far corner of the suite with four chairs surrounding it.

Lexi is speechless. Literally. She can’t speak. This isn’t happening. How can this be happening? Of all the things she has imagined about the mystery meeting—this was certainly not one of them. Was she just shaking his hand? She feels lightheaded, as if any second now she might have one of those surreal out of body experiences and float above the table, observing the scene from the ceiling. Russell and her sitting at a table with George Bryce.
Her
George.
The
George. No. This isn’t happening.

“I wouldn’t mind some roibush tea, if it’s on offer,” says Russell, who she can see is blissfully ignorant of the curve ball that has just levelled her.

“Roy what?” says Gabe, “I don’t know what that is. Is it an American thing? You might have noticed already that we’re Brits.”

“Actually,” explains Russell, “It’s South African—from a plant grown in Capetown. Very rich in vitamin C.”

“Sounds good, maybe I’ll try some. Lexi, would you like some tea? It is Lexi isn’t it?”

Oh shit
thinks Lexi,
I’m supposed to answer that. I need to say something.

“No, I mean, yes, it’s Lexi, but no, I don’t want any roibush tea.” So much for yesterday’s confidence peak. Right now she sounds like a bumbling idiot.

“Me neither, Gabe. I don’t want any roibush tea either, so looks like we already agree on something,” says George, looking over at Lexi and smiling, hoping to make the situation less weird. He feels awful that he’s responsible for putting her in this clearly uncomfortable position. He can’t help but notice her neck. The small crevice where the collar bone dips inwards.

Lexi needs to pull herself together. Right now. She needs to behave like the adult woman she is. He’s smiling at her. She wants to slide under the table. She tries to smile back but her mouth feels like it’s made of air-dried clay.

Gabe picks up the phone and orders the tea and two large bottles of water. George wonders why the interviewer called Lexi “Russell” on the television? He’s not certain where to put his hands.

“Well, what do you know, Russell, they had your roibush. Americans seem to be able to deliver on everything.”

“Some of the time,” says Russell.

“So down to business,” says Gabe, “you’re probably wondering why we asked you to meet with us today. George here is in a band. Quite a well known band called Thesis. You might have heard of them?”

“I think so,” says Russell, tentatively. “Although I’m ashamed to say I’m not really that up to date on current music. I’m quite loyal to Neil Diamond.”

“Forever in Blue Jeans,” says George. “The Diamond’s a legend!” Russell looks elated. Lexi notes how easily he has put Russell at ease. She is very slowly beginning to reoccupy her body and allows her eyes to rest on George’s face, but just for a second. He’s lovelier this close up. He has a day’s stubble and alarmingly blue eyes.
Oh my God
, thinks Lexi,
eat your heart out Radar3Girl
.

Gabe continues, “Well, I’m their manager, you see, and George seems to think that we might be able to use your consultancy service to give us some tips on how we could improve our commitment to the environment.”

“I do,” says George, sensing that Lexi has relaxed slightly. He’s already thinking about how he can see her again. No wedding ring. They’re leaving in a matter of hours. “I saw you on the telly yesterday talking about the business—it sounds really interesting.”

He saw me on the telly?
thinks Lexi.
Telly sounds so sweet! He thought I was interesting? This is too strange. From henceforth I will worship at the altar of the gooseberry…