Read Online She-Rox: A Rock & Roll Novel by Kelly McGettigan - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kelly McGettigan
Ads: Link
Hollywood isn’t Disneyland . ”
“ I know that .”
“Why would you want to throw away your genius so you can to attend some punked-out school?”
“I already told you, I don’t want a classical career.”
“Some people would kill to have your talent, but your ambition only goes as far as a patch cord can plug into a tube screamer.”
“I love it when you talk dirty to me.”
“You mean like a roadie? This is the kind of lunacy saved for stupid star-struck teenagers.”
“Yep, I’m just some stupid hairdo trying to land crazy kabuki gigs . . . and now, I’m star struck on top of it.” Eddie dropped her arms and stepped out of the warmth of Kai’s arms.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I’ve already landed my first studio gig, I’m in a band, I’m networking and one of the biggest rock stars on the planet has sent me flowers. I’d say I’m doing pretty good.”
“Slade sent you flowers?”
“They were apology flowers,” Eddie explained.
“And what could he have possibly done to sanction apology flowers?”
“It’s not so much what he did, but more what I said,” Eddie confessed. “I sort of ran over his poetic license and bashed into his male pride.”
“Why would he send flowers for that?”
“He asked me what I thought about his new songs and I told him the truth.”
“You didn’t like ‘em?”
Seeing the impish shake of her head, Kai thought, “That’s my Eddie. She isn’t enticing musicians . . . she’s insulting them.”
December 23, 2006, San Francisco War Memorial & Performing Arts Center
“I hate these social things,” Kai said.
“It was the ballet, Kai. You didn’t socialize with a single soul other than me. The lights went out, Clara took the stage and now we’re walking to the car.”
“Why do they call it “The Nutcracker” anyways? It sounds like a mob movie.”
“I would have happily gone with my parents.”
“And miss time with my girl?”
“ One of your girls . ”
“My favorite girl—”
“Right.”
“Let’s get something to eat.”
Sampling her truffled fries, Eddie mentioned, “T.J. told me you have your own apartment now.”
“Yeah, it’s closer to campus . . . more convenient.”
“And private . ”
“Yes, that too,” Kai smiled. “You may think you’re some hardcore rocker, Miss Eddie, but you are still a hard wired member of the female sex.”
“You’ve got to stop using the word ‘rocker’ like junkie, hooker, pimp or stoner with me.”
“You’ve got curiosity written all over your face.”
“That may be true with all the other babes you lure back into your web. But I have no plans, no schemes . . . your personal life is just that, personal. We meet up and hang out when we can.”
“What we got going on is a bit more than hanging out, Eddie,” Kai stated, sounding annoyed. “What is it with women anyway? You call them back the next day—you’re a stalker. You don’t call ‘em, you’re a jerk. You ask them to coffee—you’re a tight wad.” Taking a bite of his sliders, Kai continued, “I met this one girl at the campus bookstore. We were both in the physics section. I figured I might be able to have a half way intelligent conversation. And the stars must have been in alignment because she had on this short little skirt—the whole package, right—thought I’d won the lottery. So I ask her if she wants to get a cappuccino over at the espresso bar and halfway through my latte, she writes a note on this napkin and slides it across to me and you know what it said?”
“You’re the cream in my coffee?”
“I’m engaged!’” Sounding deflated, he said, “All I want from a girl is genuine sweetness. Not mind games, not competition—I want a girl to be a girl. Real men—we enjoy women’s differences. It’s what turns us on—the lace, the high heels . . . all that mind blowing anatomy.”
“Does this have anything to do with Leah Campbell?”
“T.J. told you about
“ I know that .”
“Why would you want to throw away your genius so you can to attend some punked-out school?”
“I already told you, I don’t want a classical career.”
“Some people would kill to have your talent, but your ambition only goes as far as a patch cord can plug into a tube screamer.”
“I love it when you talk dirty to me.”
“You mean like a roadie? This is the kind of lunacy saved for stupid star-struck teenagers.”
“Yep, I’m just some stupid hairdo trying to land crazy kabuki gigs . . . and now, I’m star struck on top of it.” Eddie dropped her arms and stepped out of the warmth of Kai’s arms.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I’ve already landed my first studio gig, I’m in a band, I’m networking and one of the biggest rock stars on the planet has sent me flowers. I’d say I’m doing pretty good.”
“Slade sent you flowers?”
“They were apology flowers,” Eddie explained.
“And what could he have possibly done to sanction apology flowers?”
“It’s not so much what he did, but more what I said,” Eddie confessed. “I sort of ran over his poetic license and bashed into his male pride.”
“Why would he send flowers for that?”
“He asked me what I thought about his new songs and I told him the truth.”
“You didn’t like ‘em?”
Seeing the impish shake of her head, Kai thought, “That’s my Eddie. She isn’t enticing musicians . . . she’s insulting them.”
December 23, 2006, San Francisco War Memorial & Performing Arts Center
“I hate these social things,” Kai said.
“It was the ballet, Kai. You didn’t socialize with a single soul other than me. The lights went out, Clara took the stage and now we’re walking to the car.”
“Why do they call it “The Nutcracker” anyways? It sounds like a mob movie.”
“I would have happily gone with my parents.”
“And miss time with my girl?”
“ One of your girls . ”
“My favorite girl—”
“Right.”
“Let’s get something to eat.”
Sampling her truffled fries, Eddie mentioned, “T.J. told me you have your own apartment now.”
“Yeah, it’s closer to campus . . . more convenient.”
“And private . ”
“Yes, that too,” Kai smiled. “You may think you’re some hardcore rocker, Miss Eddie, but you are still a hard wired member of the female sex.”
“You’ve got to stop using the word ‘rocker’ like junkie, hooker, pimp or stoner with me.”
“You’ve got curiosity written all over your face.”
“That may be true with all the other babes you lure back into your web. But I have no plans, no schemes . . . your personal life is just that, personal. We meet up and hang out when we can.”
“What we got going on is a bit more than hanging out, Eddie,” Kai stated, sounding annoyed. “What is it with women anyway? You call them back the next day—you’re a stalker. You don’t call ‘em, you’re a jerk. You ask them to coffee—you’re a tight wad.” Taking a bite of his sliders, Kai continued, “I met this one girl at the campus bookstore. We were both in the physics section. I figured I might be able to have a half way intelligent conversation. And the stars must have been in alignment because she had on this short little skirt—the whole package, right—thought I’d won the lottery. So I ask her if she wants to get a cappuccino over at the espresso bar and halfway through my latte, she writes a note on this napkin and slides it across to me and you know what it said?”
“You’re the cream in my coffee?”
“I’m engaged!’” Sounding deflated, he said, “All I want from a girl is genuine sweetness. Not mind games, not competition—I want a girl to be a girl. Real men—we enjoy women’s differences. It’s what turns us on—the lace, the high heels . . . all that mind blowing anatomy.”
“Does this have anything to do with Leah Campbell?”
“T.J. told you about
Similar Books
