Rock All Night(72)

“…I like relaxing…” I whispered impishly.

He laughed, then kissed me.





59




And thus I found myself driving across the California desert the next afternoon in a 1969 Mercedes convertible with three of the four members of the hottest rock band in the world.

Joshua Tree is almost two hours due east of Los Angeles. Which means we had a good bit further to go from San Diego. Everybody got up late, as they always did, so we didn’t actually hit the road until 2PM.

Derek drove, and I sat beside him in the front seat. Ryan and Killian were in the back. Killian was plinking away on a guitar, as always.

“Beautiful car, mate,” he called out.

“It is, isn’t it?” Derek agreed.

“You’re welcome,” Ryan said playfully from the backseat.

Derek glanced in the rearview mirror. “I’m never gonna hear the end of this, am I?”

“Nope.”

“Did you pay yourself back yet?”

“I haven’t exactly had time, what with all the drug trips out to the desert,” Ryan deadpanned.

Their little exchange sparked a memory from the car dealership.

I turned around and looked at Ryan. “Derek said something when we bought it – do you really handle all his money?”

“Yup.”

I looked over at Derek in shock.

“What?” he asked.

“You let him handle your bank account?!”

“And SEP IRA, and Roth IRA, and investments, and life insurance…” Ryan rattled off.

I stared at Derek with my mouth wide open. “Seriously?!”

Derek shrugged. “I trust him.”

“Yeah, but – that’s crazy!”

“Why?”

“Why don’t you just get an accountant?”

“I already have one,” Derek grinned. “He plays bass in my band. And he’s on call 24/7.”

“Yeah, unfortunately,” Ryan snorted.

“And you don’t mind?” I asked Ryan.

“I’d rather do it than see him blow all his money,” Ryan said, then added disapprovingly, “Which he tries to do anyway.”

Derek shook his head like Not THIS again. “Ninety-five grand is hardly all my money.”

“It is when you could’ve rented one for fifty bucks.”

“I am not going to ride around in a Ford Focus.”

“Then rent a Porsche.”

“I didn’t have a credit card.”

“Which is why I get weird calls at 2AM,” Ryan said to me, then did a pretty funny imitation of Derek’s rumbling voice. “‘Hey, man, I just ran up a three thousand dollar bar tab – can you spot me, bro?’”

Derek laughed. “Think of it as a financial booty call.”

“If it were a financial booty call, then I’d at least get something out of it.”

“I told you, dude, pay yourself a fee!”

Ryan waved him off. “I’m not going to do that.”

“You guys are crazy,” I said, shaking my head.

“One of us is,” Ryan agreed.

“Yeah, but who is it: the guy with the bitchin’ car, or the guy who gets calls at 2AM and does all the work paying for the bitchin’ car?” Derek joked.

Ryan considered, then nodded in agreement. “Touché.”

I looked over the seat at the lead guitarist. “You don’t handle Killian’s money, too, do you?”

“No way,” Ryan joked. “I couldn’t possibly keep up with the volume of pot sales. And I refuse to get involved in anything that might have the DEA banging down my door.”

“Ryan’s a bit uptight,” Killian said to me. “He needs to smoke once in a while, mellow him out.”

“Amen,” Derek agreed.

“Yeah, no thanks,” Ryan said.

“Speaking of which…” Killian said, and brought out a tiny little handheld object.

Since the convertible’s top was down and the hot desert air was rushing past us at 85 miles per hour, there was no way to keep a joint lit – so Killian was instead taking hits off a handheld vaporizer. It was a fancy-schmancy, beautifully crafted piece of metal and plastic that fit in the palm of his hand.

After he took a toke, he offered it to me with a look of Would you like some? He didn’t actually say it out loud, because he was holding his breath, letting the pot vapor work its magic in his lungs.

“No thanks,” I said hastily.

“Somebody else is a little uptight, too,” Derek joked.

I poked him playfully in the side. “Hey – who’s going out to do drugs in the desert for the first time?”

He laughed. “Yeah, to get an interview out of it.”

I looked back at Killian. “Speaking of which…”

“Ohhhh, why’d you have to go and do that?” Killian complained to Derek. “And here I was hoping she’d gone and forgot about it.”

“Not likely, dude.”

“More like not even remotely possible,” I said as I pulled out the Zoom recorder and turned it on. “Okay – let’s try this again. When did you start playing the guitar?”