Free Blood and Guitars by Heather Jensen Page A

send button, lifting the phone to my ear. It
rang only three times before someone answered.
    “Trey? Is that really you?” said a familiar
deep voice with mild surprise.
    “You mean I’m still in your phone, old man?”
I chuckled.
    “Don’t sound so surprised,” he said lightly.
“I thought you’d fallen off the face of the planet, though, as much
as I hear from you.”
    I ran a hand through my hair, still laughing.
“Yeah, well … I thought you might need some time to adjust to life
with diapers. You know how things go.”
    “Do I ever.” I could hear the smile in his
tone.
    “Congrats, by the way. Why don’t I make it up
to you,” I added. “Do you have plans for lunch tomorrow?”
    “That depends. You buying?” Ken chuckled and
then added, “I’m sure I could finagle something.”
    “That’s why I love you.” I grinned into the
phone. “How’s Café Ponte? Say around eleven-thirty?”
    “Over on Icot? I think I can manage
that.”
    “You’re a lifesaver man. Tell Serena and the
little one I said hi.”
    “Will do. Catch you tomorrow, Trey.”
    I hung up the phone, feeling somewhat
relieved. Karatz was a stiff negotiator, and with all the changes
going on in his life right now, I knew he might be a hard sell. The
only problem with that was I couldn’t imagine anyone else that we’d
want to help us out with this new record. Karatz was our man.
Between him and Wes, we’d managed to get a gihugic budget from the
label for ‘Recycled Coma’, our last record. It had been perfect. We
needed to duplicate that process simply because it had worked so
well. Nothing else would make sense. I sighed, knowing that Karatz
would have a harder time saying no to my face. I only hoped that it
would be enough.
     
     

Chapter 9
     
     
    “Your table is ready, sir.”
    I pulled my cap down low as the waiter
gestured for me to follow him. He led me to a table in the back and
I took a seat, asking for a glass of water before he hurried off to
seat someone else. I checked my watch. It was eleven twenty-eight.
Karatz would be here in two minutes. I knew this because Karatz was
the kind of guy who was always on time, in the most literal sense
of the phrase. He wouldn’t be one minute early, but he was never
late either. I picked up the menu laid out before me on the table
and glanced through it even though I knew just about every dish
listed by heart. I’d been here often enough to know that everything
they served was delicious but I had a favorite dish that would hit
the spot.
    I put the menu back down again and glanced
around the restaurant. The small tables covered in crisp white
linens were filling up with people on their lunch breaks. I sighed
and took a moment to appreciate the fact that I wasn’t stuck in a
lame job that required me to sit in a cubicle staring at a computer
screen all day. Although no one seemed to recognize me at the
moment, (my cap and sunglasses were a good cover) I was sure to be
the envy of most of the people in this restaurant. I was lucky, and
I reminded myself of that fact constantly, never wanting to forget
it. Sure, I could sing, and I knew my way around a guitar pretty
well, but everyone knows that making it in the music business is
about ten percent talent and ninety percent luck. And luck runs
out. It always does. The guys and I were just hoping to have a good
run at it while we could.
    My thoughts were interrupted when a voice
called my name from a few feet away. My eyes focused on Karatz
immediately and I got to my feet to greet him.
    “Hiding out in the back?” he teased as he
stepped toward me for a hug, thumping me on the back.
    I laughed and shrugged, not denying it.
Besides, he knew why I was hiding. I don’t mind signing autographs
and taking pictures with cell phones for fans, but today I was more
concerned with getting Karatz to get on board with the new
album.
    “What’s going on, family man?” I asked him as
we sat.
    He let out a loaded sigh and smiled at