I Wish You Would
I WISH YOU WOULD
J.C. LAYNE
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
About the Author
Also by J.C. Layne
I WISH YOU WOULD
Copyright ©2022
ISBN: 979-8444316726
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Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated
by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
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Editor: Chelly Peeler at Ink It Out Editing
Formatting: Chelly Peeler at Ink It Out Editing
Cover Art: Pretty Indie Book Cover Designs
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks so much to my readers and friends for taking your valuable time and spending your valuable dollars to read my stories. You all mean so much to me and I appreciate each of you more than you know! If you enjoy these stories, please tell a friend.
Thanks to the authors and creators of the Late to Love Charity Anthology where this story originally appeared. Thanks to the readers who supported this anthology with all proceeds going to #teampinkforteri. Special love and huggles to Teri Dees-Edney for her strength and courage. You are an inspiration to us all!
Chelly, thanks for your continued support, friendship and, primo editing skills. You never, ever let me down…no matter how late I get my book to you.
Thanks to the team at MiblArt Designs for the awesome cover. You guys were fabulous!
Thanks to my mom, Cathy, for being my PA, travel partner to signings, and assistant swag developer. I love you so much!
Love and hugs to you all! Love rocks!
1
Sliding the letter opener along the length of the envelope, Brynlee Edwards takes a deep breath. Another freaking bill.
Didn’t someone tell her once how lucrative working for a record label could be? She’s sure they did. What they didn’t bother to tell her was that’s after you started moving up in the ranks.
Going to college to earn a marketing degree was supposed to guarantee Bryn a good position in a lucrative company. But the lure of the music industry beckoned to her.
When she got an entry-level publicist job at a small record label just out of college, she thought she’d hit the jackpot.
After five years of making nearly nothing there, she got an opportunity to move to a mid-sized label. Thankfully, Formidable Records saw her potential and made her an Associate Publicist after two years.
Even so, her $60k a year salary, which was a bump from her first label, still made making ends meet difficult.
Then, two years ago she got promoted to a Senior Publicist, and her salary was bumped up to $80k. While the salary is pretty good by most standards, the cost of living in California is ridiculously high. To be honest, she doesn’t like California all that much.
The other thing about the publicist job is the expectations for after-work functions. When you’re assigned an artist to promote, you’re expected to get to know them personally. Makes perfect sense, right?
Well, that’s a loaded question. Some artists are great to work with. They’re polite, amenable and talented. Those artists appreciate their position in this fickle industry. Promoting those artists is no problem at all.
Other artists, well, other artists are really pains-in-the-ass. They’re entitled, cocky, demanding, have bad attitudes and are frequently in trouble.
Thankfully, their agent and/or tour manager has to handle their behavior issues, but their publicist has to make the world think they’re the fabulous people they believe them to be.
She’s had her share of the bad bands and now she’s afraid she’s about to have another.
Bryn has just been assigned an established band, On the Ropes.
They’ve been around for about fifteen years now, they had good success with their debut and sophomore album on a major label. Then, with each subsequent album, the sales have continued to decline. Now they’ve been cut loose from the major and picked up by Formidable Records, the label Bryn works for.
Formidable Records’ brass considers this a coup. They got a big-name, established band and Bryn got four diva musicians to promote.
As an example, the first get-to-know meeting they had together was a disaster. Bryn had to meet them in the hotel lobby where they were staying.
She’d waited and waited for them, two hours, in fact. Finally, two of the four stumbled off the elevator, liquor bottles in hand and groupies on their arms.
By this time, Bryn wasn’t just angry, she was pissed. She stormed toward them. “Rod and Sean, is it?”
With a slurred voice, Sean, the bassist, replied, “Hey there, swee’heart. Wanna join a threesome?”
Doing her very best to steady her voice, she replied, “No, I’m your new publicist from Formidable Records. All four of you were supposed to meet me two hours ago. Remember?”
“Ohhhhh, shit! Man, I’m sorry. We sorta had a party last night. We don’ even know if Wes and Josh are still alive.”
“Well, they’d better be alive or you’re in breach of contract,” Bryn snapped.
Swaying on his feet, Rod said, “Hey, man, it’s all good. We were just having some fun.”
Clenching her jaw tightly, she spat, “Hey, man, it’s not all good. You’re being a bunch of assholes. I’ll call your manager and reschedule. You’d better all show up next time or label management will be notified.”
The guys both stared at her and blinked heavily. “Uh oh, we’re in trouble,” Sean responded and all four of them began to laugh.
Shaking her head, Bryn stormed past them on her way out of the hotel.
* * *
Bryn cringes now as she recalls that encounter.
How the hell she managed to be assigned to this band is beyond her. They told her it was because she was one of their best publicists. But she figures it’s because none of the more senior publicists wanted to do it.
Sighing loudly, she looks around the dimly lit restaurant at the few booths that are filled with people. There are only three, all with businessmen in coats and ties engaging in conversations as they leisurely have lunch.
It is three p.m., thus not the lunch or dinner rush. Bryn requested this time to meet with On the Ropes again. Despite them acting like kindergartners, they still have oodles of fans and she really loves their music. She also has a bit of a history with one of them but that’s not her main concern.
Checking her phone, Bryn sighs again. Are these boneheads going to show up this time? If they do, are they going to be in any shape to have any sort of meaningful conversation?
Looking up from her phone, Bryn sees a group of five men being shown to her table. Let the shit show begin.
The man
in front is in black khakis, a black t-shirt and gray blazer. This must be their manager. Good, maybe this meeting will at least be civil.
The man to his right she recognizes as being the lead singer, Wes Vaughan, of the band. He is dressed in jeans and a blue Fender guitars t-shirt and black leather jacket. His short dark hair is stylishly messy. He is walking with his head down, hands stuffed in his pockets.
Her stomach clenches at the sight of him. Nope, not today, girl.
The remaining band members follow behind them, all looking very tired…or most likely, hung over.
“Here we go again,” Bryn mumbles as she stands, steps out of the booth and straightens her blouse.
Arriving at the table, the manager says, “Ms. Edwards?”
“Yes, hello. Mr. Randall?” she asks, offering her hand for a shake.
“Yes, nice to finally meet you,” he replies, taking her hand, “and it’s David, please.”
“David, pleasure to meet you. Call me Bryn,” she counters.
Releasing her hand, David motions to his right, “Bryn Edwards, this is Wes Vaughan.”
Wes lifts his eyes to meet hers. Bryn gasps quietly. Wow, he’s just as handsome as she remembers and so much better than in more recent photos. No wonder women fall all over him.
Offering her hand, she clears her throat. “Wes, it’s nice to meet you.”
His deep hazel eyes are intense, never leaving hers, as he takes her hand in his. She can feel the callouses from years of guitar playing, but surprisingly, his hands are gentle.
“Bryn, the pleasure is all mine,” he says with a sexy self-assurance. She gets goosebumps as she hears the southern drawl she remembers from years earlier. Even though she’s studied their biographies in detail, right now, for the life of her, she can’t recall where he’s from.
Swallowing hard, she smiles and nods. That’s all she can manage at this particular moment.
Come on, girl, you’re a professional. Stop it!
He holds her hand a moment longer as his lip quirks up in half smile.
Thank goodness it’s dark in here. She’s sure her face is blood red.
Not seeming to notice, David turns to the other men and continues his introductions, “Bryn, let me introduce, Josh Lawrence, the band’s lead guitarist.”
Nodding, she smiles, pulling her hand from Wes’s grip, “Josh, nice to meet you.”
“Same here,” he says with a pleasant smile, shaking her hand.
David takes a deep breath, his face tensing up. “And these two boneheads, you’ve already met, if you can call it that. This is the bass player, Sean O’Ryan, and drummer, Rod Jarvis.”
She looks at Rod first. As she’s about to offer her hand, she notices his hands don’t leave his pockets. He nods. “Good to meet you.”
She turns to Sean, who offers his hand to her. She takes his hand, which he lifts to his lips and kisses the back. “Pleasure, lovely,” he says with a wink.
Groaning, Josh says, “Dude, keep it in your pants, this is a business meeting.”
“Fuck you,” Sean says to Josh, his eyes scanning Bryn up and down.
She jerks her hand away from him.
David pushes Sean toward the opposite side of the circular booth they’re in, pushing him in after Rod, who has already seated himself. Then, on the other side of the table, Josh slips in first, then Wes, then David, leaving a very relieved Bryn to slip in on the outside.
A waiter appears, setting menus in front of each of them. “Good afternoon. May I start you off with some drinks?”
“Jack and Coke,” Sean blurts, staring at Bryn. This guy makes her extremely uncomfortable.
“Just Coke,” Rod says, staring at the screen of his phone, not even looking up.
Wes motions to Bryn. “Ladies first,” he says with a forced smile, followed by a quick, tense glare at his bandmates.
Feeling her face flush with heat, she looks up at the waiter. “Water would be great, thank you.”
“Just Coke, please,” Wes replies, glancing over at Bryn, followed by David, who orders a hot tea with honey and Josh, who also orders a regular Coke.
The waiter hustles away as David opens his menu. “I love the Thai lettuce wraps here.”
Bryn is very uncomfortable. Her brow is sweating. This is crazy. They’re just a bunch of men. Granted, a couple of them extremely hot men, a couple of them extremely stupid men, yes, but just men.
She needs to get away from this table a moment to pull herself together.
About that time, her cellphone rings. Looking down at the screen, she sees the name of her BFF. “Oh, please excuse me. I need to take this,” she says, standing, “would someone order the lettuce wraps for me, please?”
David and Wes both say, “I will,” as she walks away.
“Bryn Edwards,” she says into the phone.
2
Wes Vaughan looks across his menu as he watches the brunette leave the table. Bryn Edwards. She’s very lovely. She has one of those curvy bodies that he loves.
He recalls that he’d slept through their last scheduled meeting. Way to make a great impression, asshole.
In his defense, he’d had the flu. They were in L.A. doing a show.
Between being so run down from the tour and being in a ton of crowds, it was no wonder he got the flu.
He hadn’t felt great the entire day but when the show was over, he was done. It was all he could do to make it to the hotel room and take a shower.
Luckily, David had been able to find a doctor to get some of the flu medicine early enough, but he’d still slept for two straight days, one of them being the day they were to meet Bryn.
Josh had come down with the flu, too, so he didn’t make it.
The two assholes were their normal wasted, whoring selves so they didn’t make it either.
Signing with Formidable Records is supposed to be their chance to redeem themselves after being dropped by their major label.
He’s always loved making music. It’s who he is but lately, he’s begun to question being part of On the Ropes.
He looks around the table at his bandmates. Rod’s eyes are darting around the room and he’s drumming on the table. Rod and Sean are damn lost causes. They don’t care about the music; they care about the women, money, drugs and booze, pretty much in that order.
Josh is a good guy, his best friend. He hasn’t talked to him about this either. They’d started the band together when they were in their early twenties when both were playing the club scene in Athens, in separate bands.
One day, they jammed together and the rest is history. On the Ropes was born.
Originally, they’d had two other band mates but both of them left the band in the first two years. Touring wasn’t for them.
When those guys left, he and Josh held auditions for replacements. They hired Rod and Sean. Rod blew them away with his skills. Dude can play anything just by listening to it once. He plays a kit with double bass drums and is a damn animal onstage. It’s too bad Sean sucked him into his hedonistic ‘rock star’ lifestyle.
Sean is a decent bass player. He and Rod have a great vibe when they play together so they’ve kept him, despite his being a complete hindrance to the band.
At least five times a week, Wes wants to fire his sorry ass, but he hasn’t done it yet.
He keeps waiting for him to show up unable to perform. That’s the day his ass is gone.
Sighing, Wes is snapped out of his head by the waiter setting his Coke down in front of him.
“Thanks, man,” Wes says, taking a long swig.
“What’re you all in your head about?” Josh asks.
His mouth set in a tight line, Wes shakes his head. “Nothing, I guess. I’m just a little out of sorts today.”
“Any particular reason?”
“Oh, maybe fifty particular reasons,” Wes replies with a sharp laugh.
Turning toward him, Josh says, “Dude, do we need to talk?”
“I’m fine,” Wes repli
es, taking another drink of his Coke. Thanks, though.”
“I’m here if you need me. You know that,” Josh says, patting Wes’s shoulder.
“I know. You’re a great friend, man,” Wes replies, smiling at him.
* * *
Truth is, Josh has every reason in the world to ask Wes if he’s okay.
About a year ago, Wes had a breakdown. It was around the time the label dropped them.
They had been on tour for going on a year. The draw was abysmal, the bus seemed to break down every other week, and he was constantly fighting with Sean. He was so sick of waking up with random women on their bus every morning.
Even when they were actually driving, there always seemed to be groupies on the bus. They had their trysts with Sean and Rod the night before and seemed to be set on banging the entire set, so Wes and Josh were stuck with these crazy women climbing into their bunks with them or some shit.
Many times, he’d have the bus driver pull over at the next restaurant and drop the women off. He’d usually even give them money for a taxi or bus because he felt so bad about kicking them out. But something had to give. Wes and Josh don’t do random women. And no way in hell he’d do someone Sean just had.
No matter how many times they’d told Rod and Sean to stop bringing women on the bus, they did it anyway.
Then, one afternoon, when they arrived in Knoxville for a gig, they were met by their label rep and told they were being dropped by the label. Wes walked out of the building, got his hands on a bottle of whisky and spent the night in a hotel room drinking and crying.