Strong: A Stage Dive Novella (Stage Dive #4.5)(10)

“Having second thoughts about the fame thing?” I asked Adam, wandering closer.

The young man shrugged. “I just want to play my music. What happens happens, you know?”

Sam stood in the corner, doing his silent sentry thing. Every now and then his gaze would take in the view of the pool outside, checking for anyone who didn’t belong. With all of the guys gathered in the one place, security would be more intense than usual. Today he was wearing thick black boots, jeans, and a matching T-shirt. It suited him, the whole dark and dangerous thing he had going on.

I might have been somewhat distracted and lost track of the conversation when something caught my attention. “What did you say?”

Ben looked up. “I said Adrian’s talking about getting Adam a place in the Mackee Festival line-up.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“Why?”

“The festival’s under new management and apparently they’re clueless as all fu…fudge. Odds are it’s going to be a disaster. What the hell is Adrian thinking?”

Jimmy cocked his head, watching me with interest for some reason.

“Just because I’ve been on the other side of the country doesn’t mean I haven’t kept up with industry news.”

“So what would you recommend?” asked Ben.

It seemed like every set of eyes in the room was turned my way. I crossed my arms, feeling just a tiny bit defensive perhaps. “Festivals are a good idea, I’ll give Adrian that. Help to establish Adam more widely and build on his audience. I’d definitely talk to Tyra about a place in the Newport and maybe the End of Summer and Rock ’n Waves. You’re only interested in stateside at the moment, right?”

Adam gulped. “Ah, I guess?”

“He’s so clueless, it’s cute,” laughed Mal. Amazing he could keep track of the conversation while helping Gib create chaos on the high hats.

And Jimmy was still watching me, which I so could have done without.

“What?” I scowled.

“Just a thought is all…” said Jimmy.

“What thought?”

From over by the windows, Sam watched me too, his bland business face morphing into something questioning for a moment. The weirdness in the room was seriously starting to get to me.

“Bet you’ve kept up with your contacts too, haven’t you?” asked Jimmy. “Or it wouldn’t take much to get up to date. You always were good at the schmoozing and getting people to do what you wanted. Had a hell of a talent for it, if I remember correctly.”

Now even my brother joined in, his brows lifting in surprise. “Huh. Probably would never have occurred to me, but you’re right, Jim. It’s not a bad idea at all. Smart, organized, has experience or at least a working knowledge of pretty much every part of the industry.”

“What the hell are you all talking about?” I barked.

“Hell!” yelled Gib, making me wince. Evidently I’d raised my voice enough to penetrate through the earmuffs. Though really on a scale of inappropriate words, it couldn’t be worse than butt.

“She always did keep a close eye on everything. I mean, she was good at her job,” said David, carrying on the discussion. Though his tone seemed distinctly reluctant when it came to doling out praise. “Sure this babysitting thing is really for you, Martha?”

“It’s not a long-term solution, but it’s all right for now. Why?”

Sam cleared his throat. “They’re thinking you’d make a great manager for Adam. I happen to agree.”

“A manager? Me?”

“Sure, why not?” Ben walked over to stand in front of me, his mouth a very straight and serious line. “You’re your own kind of scary, just like Adrian is. But you’re way better at smooth-talking people than he’ll ever be. Adam could do a hell of a lot worse.”

“I’m my own kind of scary?” I asked, one brow raised.

“You know you are,” said Jimmy from over on the couch. “You’re a hard ass from way back.”

“All of this flattery is going to go to my head,” I joked.

“Ass!” shouted Gib.

This time it was Ben who winced. “Liz’s going to kill me. Look, Martha, just think about it, okay?”

“Shouldn’t Adam get a say in this?”

The baby rocker looked around the room some more with his big innocent bewildered eyes. If nothing else, the boy would look great on the covers of magazines. Though his clothes and hair needed a bit of work. “I guess she seems nicer than Adrian?”

“Martha nice? You’re hilarious,” said Mal, setting Gibby down on the ground.

The child immediately ran over to the couch to climb up between David and Jimmy. Both held up their hands and some complicated game involving Gibby taking turns high fiving the two men began. It was kind of cute seeing them interact with him. How natural and relaxed they were these days with a small child in their midst.

“Anyway,” continued Mal. “You don’t want anyone too nice. It’s an industry that’ll chew you up and spit you out if you’re not careful. You want someone like Martha who’ll watch your back and cover your interests.”

“Were you actually just praising me?” I asked, shocked.