Chapter 41
As I pulled into the parking lot of the warehouse where Craig had instructed me to go, I already missed Logan, but I quickly pushed the thought aside, determined to make a good first impression on my band. What would they be like? Would they be as good as Logan's band? I took one step at a time, and then paused for a moment with my hand on the door when warm-up rifts rushed to my ears.
"The hell with it," I said as I screwed up my courage and pulled the door open abruptly.
The music was immediately magnified as I stepped in and closed the door behind me. The lead guitarist's fingers flew over the neck of his electric guitar, sending a thrill through me as the music penetrated my soul. Beside him, the bass and rhythm guitar players kept time with the beat of the drummer, as if it were no effort. They were good. Really good.
The drummer looked up, eyeing me from across the room, and immediately stopped. "May I help you?"
The others stopped, too, and looked up. It was only natural that they wouldn't know me.
"It's nice to meet you," I said, setting my guitar case onto a nearby table. I pulled out my guitar and slid the strap across my shoulders. Then, I picked up a pick.
"So, you're part of the band, too?" the lead guitarist asked, laughing without humor. "Craig told me that it would just be us." He ran his fingers through his shoulder-length blond streaked hair and shook his head. The rhythm guitarist rolled his eyes at the blond, as if used to his objections.
I suppressed a smile and let my fingers fly down the neck of my plugged in acoustic guitar.
The bass player nodded his approval. "Well, you've got to hand it to her. She's good."
The rhythm guitarist suppressed a smile.
The blond laughed as he turned back to me. "Do you sing, too?"
I nodded, but didn't say a word as my fingers flew over my guitar. But this time, I found a rhythm. I looked over at the drummer, and he bit his lower lip, suppressing a grin, knowing who I was. I gave him a wink as I shook my head slightly, and then looked back at the lead guitarist.
"So, let's see what you got."
He laughed so hard that he dabbed at the tears in his eyes. "Really?" he asked in disbelief, gesturing down the length of my guitar.
I let my fingers run up the neck of my guitar as it screamed in answer.
"Okay," he said, nodding as his fingers flew over the neck of his guitar and came abruptly to a stop. "Let's see what you've got, little girl."
I raised an eyebrow, taking him in. Behind him, the brunette drummer bit his lip and lowered his head as he shook his head, as if knowing that the blond would soon regret his actions and comments. But he didn't say a word.
One corner of my lips curled into a smile. Then, I turned back to Blondie. "You first."
He nodded in mock gratitude, and the others laid out as Blondie's fingers flew over the neck of his guitar and then down to the base. A moment later, his rift came to an end as a self-satisfied smirk spread
across his face.
"Impressive!" Without missing a beat, I immediately launched into an impressive rift of my own. When my rift came to an end, the other musicians clapped loudly as they whooped and hollered.
The rhythm guitar player laughed as he shook his head and smoothed back long strands of light brown hair into his ponytail. "I think she smoked you, man," he said with a pronounced Irish brogue.
Blondie's lips formed a straight line. And, without saying another word, he launched into another rift, this time mixing in a little rhythm and blues with his lead line. A moment later, he ended the rift and folded his arms across his chest. "Now, beat that."
I lifted my eyebrows. "Well, it'll be hard. That's for sure," I said, matter of fact, as I set down my acoustic. "Mind if I borrow your guitar?"
He handed it to me with a self-satisfied smirk. "Go for it."
I played around a bit with his electric guitar, getting a feel for it first. Although I preferred playing my own guitar, there are certain things that you can only do on an electric guitar. "As I said, that'll be hard to beat, but here it goes." I launched into an intricate rift, including some old-school rock, followed by jazz, and then launched into some contemporary rock. Then, I played the guitar behind the back of my head. After a few bars, I brought the guitar down in front of me and played a contemporary country rift and ended with a high-pitched note at the base of the neck. I jumped into the air and landed, bringing our battle to a close.
Silence filled the air. When I looked around, their mouths were open.
"It's a great guitar, but you need a new G-string. Probably because the key nozzle is a bit loose. You can have that tightened up and it'll save you from using so many strings. Also, the nut bar at the end needs tightening. But, all in all, I like it." When I handed it back to Blondie, his mouth was still open.
A slow clap came from behind me. Craig had entered the warehouse, dressed in a leather suit coat and black leather pants, instead of his usual business attire. He still wore his signature white dress shirt, but he looked good with it unbuttoned at the neck. I turned away, trying not to notice.
"Alyssa, that was truly impressive," he said after he stopped clapping.
"Alyssa?!" Blondie asked as his voice rose. "Alyssa Case?" He rolled his eyes and stepped back as he ran his hand through his hair, obviously realizing what an ass he had just made of himself. "Oh my God! I'm so sorry!"
"Alyssa. Not God," I joked, clearly enjoying his discomfort. "It's okay. You didn't know." Then, I held my hand out to him for a friendly handshake. "Actually, the name's Alyssa Collins, but my stage name is Alyssa Case. And you are?"
"Embarrassed," he said as he graciously shook my hand. "Brett. The name's Brett Connors, the one who just made an ass of himself."
The drummer and the bass guitarist just laughed, and so did I. "No worries. It was just a misunderstanding."
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