The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men 7)

The worst thing about being so laid-back was that when it came to the more professional, business aspect of things, I sucked ass.

“Are you sure I didn’t pay?” I asked, tucking my cell phone between my ear and shoulder as I knelt in front of the garage door of the storage unit to unlock the padlock.

“I’m looking on the computer screen of your account history right in front of me, Mr. Hart. And there’s been no receipt of payment yet.”

Scowling because I was so sure I’d already given them my credit card information, I rolled up the metal door and entered the cramped space.

“Okay, then. Just send me another invoice or whatever, I guess. I’ll make sure to take care of it this time, I swear.”

After the woman assured me she would, we hung up and I set my guitar on a box that had Christmas Decorations scribbled on the side. The unit belonged to Heath’s family. But they only used half the space, so they didn’t mind if we shoved all their things against the walls to make room in the middle for the drum set and sound system. We’d practiced here a couple times each week for almost two years now.

Today was the first chance we had to practice with our new band member. It was also the last opportunity before our first gig to really mesh with him, so I was a bit edgy, hoping he stayed as good as he’d been during his audition. I was almost grateful that Shelly from the studio had called me to distract my nerves.

When I spotted a box that belonged to me, I sat on an old scarred nightstand, settled the box onto my lap, and began to riffle through the scattered pages inside. I’d only glanced at half a dozen when someone knocked on the opening.

I looked up to find the new drummer hesitating in the entrance and gazing around the inside of the unit in half horror, half wonder.

“Hey, you made it. Come on in.” I waved him forward and went back to scanning the documents in the box. “The other two should be here any minute.”

He stepped cautiously forward as if he feared a piano would fall on him as soon as he entered. “So this is really where we practice, huh? I had to reread the address you gave me about ten times, sure there was a mistake when I pulled in the lot of a freaking storage unit.”

“Yeah, it’s not much. But it gets the job done.”

“You’re telling me,” he muttered under his breath.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him wander to the drum set and run his hand over one of the mounted toms. Then he gingerly seated himself on the stool in front of the five-piece set and rubbed his hands up and down his thighs as he took in the sight before him.

Wondering if he was nervous, I glanced up and lifted one of the pages from the box. “Oh, by the way, the sheet music for all our original songs is in here if you need go through them to learn any.”

Sticks zipped his gaze my way as if I’d surprised him. Then he shrugged. “I’m good. I pretty much learned them by ear when I listened to your records.”

I nodded, admiring his ability to do that. “Right on.”

I tried to refocus my attention on my task of finding the receipt I was sure I had when Heath and Gally arrived together, Gally being just as loud and rambunctious as Heath was quiet and subdued.

“What up, losers? You ready to rock this garage?”

Sticks didn’t respond and I barely gave a distracted “Hey,” because I was busy tugging up the sheet I’d been looking for and crying, “Aha! I did pay already.”

“Pay what?” Gally asked as he and Heath went about plugging their guitars into the amplifier.

“Hmm?” I glanced up from my triumphant grin. “Oh. Someone from the music studio just called, saying I hadn’t paid for the three days we rented the room for our auditions. And I knew I’d paid.” I waved the receipt that had a big red Paid stamp on it as I slid my phone out of my pocket.

Gally’s mouth hung half open as he stared at me. “We actually had to pay for that?”

I wrinkled my brow, hoping he wasn’t serious, but I was pretty sure he was. “Uh... Don’t you think we’d practice there daily if it were free?”

“Oh. Huh, yeah, I guess. I never really thought about it.” Then he scratched his head. “I don’t remember paying shit for any studio rental.”

“That’s because you didn’t. I took care of the cost.”

Instead of thanking me for handling it, he mumbled, “Oh,” again and then slipped his guitar strap over his shoulder. “Well, are you ready to play or not?”

I held up a finger. “Not yet. I need to call these people back.” As I dialed, Gally sighed, rolling his eyes, so I assured him, “It’ll only take a second.”

I called the lady I’d just talked to, and once I read her the number on the receipt and the date, she paused a moment before telling me, Oh yeah, there was my payment. Huh, go figure.

By the time I finished the call, everyone was already set up and raring to go, just watching me. “Sorry about that.” I stuffed my phone back into my pocket as Gally demanded to know if I was finally ready yet.