“Is it Nate?” Carrie asked, trying to read over my shoulder.
“It’s my flight. Five am. I’m not packed.”
Carrie poured the last of the wine for us both and waved for the bill. “I’ll get this, then I’ll come over and help you pack.”
“Thanks, that’s really sweet of you.”
“It’ll also give me a chance to tell you about how tricky it is to suck Brad. See, it bends a bit to the l
eft–”
Clapping my hands over my ears, I muttered, “Lord, save me.”
Chapter Fourteen ~ Nate
* Different Page *
Dave had suggested that I go to at least one of the dozen or so parties I was invited to tonight. The whole "see and be seen" concept.
LA parties were a completely different flavor than I was used to. It was more about taking photos for social media then truly connecting with anyone. People yattered on about their numbers as if their online status really meant something. Who was I to say? Maybe it did. I've just always focused more on what a person did rather than how many abstract digital connections they had accumulated.
Maybe I was already an old codger at twenty-five. I really would have preferred to leave around eleven pm after just two drinks.
As I shuffled through the hotel lobby, nodding to the late night concierge, I didn't feel old, just a bit tired. A long night of speaking with strangers was exhausting.
The second I got into my room, I stripped and went into the shower. Many people had teased me about my two-minute night time showers, but I didn't give a damn. I didn't even use soap, just turned around in the hot water without getting my hair wet. To me, it was a symbol of getting people's energy off me. But it also put me to sleep much faster.
When I was touring, I had to train myself to fall asleep anywhere, at any time. Sometimes in the back of a car, or in a tiny bed next to one of my smelly, snoring bandmates. We all just did what we could to survive.
Turning around once more in the luxurious piping hot rain shower in this expensive hotel bathroom, I laughed at myself. I could see how some musicians would start to think they deserved all this after what we had to get through to get anywhere.
Shutting off the water, I grabbed a fluffy hotel robe, pulling it on as I walked toward the bed. Flopping across the entire surface like a giant starfish, I grabbed my phone. It was one thirty in the morning.
I tried to do the mental math to figure out what time it was in Toronto but wasn't quite sure. Taking a chance, I called Trisha anyway. I knew she would probably have the sense to set her phone to silent if she were sleeping.
As soon as I heard the call connect, I murmured, "I miss you I miss you I miss you."
Her bright little laugh gave me an instant shot of energy. “Sorry I can’t talk for more than a minute – I’m at the airport.”
“What? Where are you going?” I sat up straight. It was odd how tension instantly filled my limbs at the thought of Trisha traveling. I knew that this time I had her number, but still.
Her giggle sounded thin through the phone, but she seemed relaxed. “My boss Gary decided that his idiotic feud with his brother wasn’t worth either of them losing money. They’re sending me to Vancouver to set up the live stream feed at Warren’s offices so that the sister stations have the same capabilities. There was some last-minute deal on the flight if I left stupidly early this morning.”
“I love hearing you in work mode.”
“Hey, thanks for the canned air. I meant to text you about that. It was totally adorable.”
“That’s me, baby. Trying to be sweet in weird ways,” I said. “How long are you in Vancouver?”
“I’ll be working today and tomorrow, then have the weekend off.”
“Can I see you on Saturday?”
She paused. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. I was going to Vancouver Saturday night, but I think I could switch it to the morning. We’re planning a band meeting and I’d love for you to meet them.”
Trisha paused again. This time it likely wasn’t disbelief that our lives were lining up, but nervousness at meeting several people at once.