Blood And Guitars

Chapter 9

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) most of the people in the restaurant would envy the freedoms my job afforded. 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. Even his smile seemed fatherly. “It’s good to get out of the house for a few,” he admitted with a chuckle. “It’s seriously been so long since I’ve eaten here that I nearly forgot about the place.”

“You’re missing out, then.” I watched him pick up the menu and scan it with his eyes.

“What’s good?”

“It’s all good.” The waiter reappeared with ice water. He clasped his hands behind his back and waited patiently. “I’ll take a bowl of Max’s soup of the day,” I began.

“What is it?” Karatz asked me curiously.

“No idea.” I shrugged. He raised an eyebrow at me appraisingly. “I told you, it’s all good.” He chewed on his lip as if considering my words as I finished ordering a sirloin steak sandwich.

“And for you, sir?” The waiter gestured with a nod of his head to Karatz.

“He’ll try the soup, as well,” I interrupted.

Karatz gave a shrug, adding a rock shrimp and crab sandwich to his order. The waiter bustled off to get our orders in to the cook and I took a sip of the lemon water he’d placed in front of me.

“I know you didn’t just miss my pretty face. There’s a reason you called me last night, kid. But I don’t do business on an empty stomach so we’ll ignore the elephant in the room until our stomachs aren’t growling.”

I smiled, realizing just how much I’d missed having him around. “Whatever you say,” I replied. I asked him about his wife, certain that she and the new baby would be a topic that would pass the time until our food arrived. I was right. The soup was clam chowder. I poured a packet of soup crackers into my bowl and watched as Karatz dug right in without hesitation. He seemed to enjoy it. My sandwich was delicious, and Karatz wondered out loud after eating half of his why he didn’t come here more often.

I ordered a plate of warm chocolate soufflé for each of us as dessert and Ken gave me a look in between bites of Tahitian vanilla ice cream that said it was time to talk business.

“We’re back in the studio,” I said to him. “At least, we’re starting.”

“How’s it going so far?” He seemed interested. I took that as a good sign.

“It would be better if we had your magic ears,” I added.

He took a bite of his soufflé. “You got a pile of songs for me?”

“I … er … not exactly. But I do have a hit.”

He cocked his head to the side and looked at me. “What does Celebrity Dent say?”

“I don’t care what the label says. We want you. Besides, Wes will go to bat for us.”

He smiled and I worried for the first time that he was going to turn me down. “Life’s crazy at home,” he began. “Joshua is up half the night-”

“Let me stop you there,” I said. “I know this is asking a lot. But we can’t do this without you. We’ve only laid down one track. You’re the only one who can get us the budget and the studio time we need to make this next record worth while. We’re ready to take it to the next level. We need our sound to evolve a little, you know, and you’re the guy who does that for us.”

Karatz gave me a puzzled look and then let out a chuckle. I gave him my best blank stare, wondering what I had missed.

“Look,” he began. “I’m not trying to explain to you why I can’t do this. I’m trying to explain to you why we have to do it at my place.”

“Huh?” I said brilliantly.

“I just finished putting in the studio at my new place, and it sounds like I did it just in time, too,” he stated. “The truth is, I’m anxious for something to do, but there’s no way Serena is going to want me gone all day for however long it would take to get this record made, and I’d hate to miss out on Joshua that entire time. The way I see it, we can make this work if we can use my studio. Then you’ll have your producer, and I’ll be near my family for the process. It’s a win-win.”

I shook my head in disbelief, smiling at him. “You had me worried there for a bit.” I let out a sigh of relief. “I thought I was going to have to get on my knees and beg.” He waved a dismissive hand and took a drink while I leaned back in my chair, reminding myself that I could relax. “Now we just have to get the label on board.”

“Let the adults deal with the label,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’ll give Wes a call later. We’ll figure that out.”

“I can’t wait to see this new studio of yours,” I added.

“I can’t think of a group of guys I’d rather have break it in,” he said.

Mission accomplished.

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