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“DO YOU HAVE ANY MORE of the pink t-shirt? Size medium?”
They were flying off the merchandise table. Haley squatted and peered into the boxes of extras underneath. “Hold on, I see more pink.” She pulled out a stack and started studying the labels. “Here’s one! Medium!”
The young woman in front of her did a fist pump in the air and squealed. “Okay, I’ll take that, as well as this stuff.” She shoved over a can huggie, a band CD and an autographed 8 x 10 glossy of the band. Haley entered them all into the cashier app of the laptop and announced, “Fifty five dollars.” The girl handed over her credit card and Haley swiped it. “Want your receipt?”
The girl nodded.
Haley moved the gadget back to her. “Enter your email address. We don’t print paper here.”
She tap-tap-tapped and finished.
“Thank you for your purchase!”
“I love this band. Especially the lead singer. Blake’s a hottie.”
Haley hid a grimace in a forced smile. “He sure is.”
She took care of the line of rabid fans and when they were all gone, it was two forty-five in the morning. She fell into a chair and closed her eyes for a moment. But only a moment. If she allowed herself longer, she’d likely fall asleep right here at The Loft in Charleston.
It had been a great night. The gig was only ninety minutes from home, much closer than some of their extended reach had taken them over the last four months. Because of that, and because it was a Saturday night, they’d decided not to book hotel rooms. They’d drive home late and sleep in their own beds for a change.
The Loft was on the top floor of a four-story historic brick building in a touristy section of Charleston. The crowd was crazy big, rowdy and supportive. The bar opened onto an outdoor stone patio with sparkly lights and potted plants. The bar staff had opened the doors mid-way through the first set, so Haley knew the skies had filled with Ace in the Hole’s beautiful strands of music, and the loud applause and sounds of appreciation from the fans. She could just picture it in her mind – a wave of sound floating up to heaven.
The bar manager stopped by the table as Haley scrambled to fold and replace the remaining merchandise in the box. “Thank you,” he said. “They really pulled in a big crowd tonight. We appreciate the business.”
Haley beamed a smile at him. “And we appreciate you booking us.”
“Happy to do it. In fact, can we talk about another night? I’d love to see this kind of crowd again.”
“Sure. Let me look at the calendar and give you a call on Monday. We may have a few free nights in the next month.”
“Awesome. I transmitted your payment a few minutes ago so it should’ve hit your account by now.”
“Pleasure doing business with you.”
Blake was the next to stop over to the table. He and the guys had finished disconnecting the stage equipment and carrying everything back to the truck downstairs. He looked exhausted, but happy. “You about ready?”
“Yep.” She closed the lids of the boxes and he automatically lifted one, then stacked another one on top. She grabbed two, as well as her purse and they headed down the stairs, carefully watching where their feet landed. “Good sales tonight. I’ll have to reorder everything.”
He pushed the truck hatch closed and pulled her in for a hug. She breathed in his scent, a heady combination of sweat and fresh air. His head dipped and they were in a kiss, her heart rate increasing as it always did when they kissed. This man made her heart race, her head spin, her blood pump. Her thoughts went to a silent prayer of thanksgiving for having met him, and for having partnered together on this business venture. She was having so much fun, and so was he.
“Sorry,” he murmured when he pulled back. “I’m sweaty and gross.”
Sweaty, yes. Gross, no. They both headed to the truck. Blake swung into the driver’s seat. They made their way through the nearly deserted streets of the city and to the highway. Sleep was calling her hard, but he was probably more tired than she was. Conversation would help them stay awake.
“Great night. The manager came over and wants to book you guys again.”
Blake did a slow shake of his head. He took a hand off the wheel and put it on hers, squeezing it. “You’re a miracle worker. None of this good stuff would be happening for us if it weren’t for you. Do you know how grateful we are?”
“I think I do.”
“For years we were stuck in a rut, playing beach bars, making a couple hundreds bucks a pop. Now look at us. You show up with all these ideas for making us look good. And suddenly we’re in demand.”
She chuckled. “It’s called marketing, baby. Building a buzz. Making people aware of what you have to offer and making them want it. You did your part all those years. You mastered your craft. You worked hard. You know what you’re doing, so when success found you, you were ready for it.”
“And you are great at marketing.”
“Thanks. I love it. I’m having so much fun.”
“So are we.”
“I wish we had a crystal ball and could read the future.”
He nodded sleepily while he watched the road.
“For example, we need to hire help. We can’t keep doing all this ourselves.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, to start, you guys shouldn’t be doing your own set up and tear down at every gig. We need a roadie crew to do that. You should be focused on performing.”
He looked over, eyebrows up.
“And the merchandise sales. I need a sales crew to take care of that. I’ll do all the behind the scenes orders and creative stuff. But I need people to work the sales table at the gigs.” She wanted to dream big. She just didn’t know where her dreams and reality would collide. “And ... me.”
He looked over at her again.
“I’m spending so much time working for the band ...”
“For no money ...”
“Right. That I don’t really have time to work at the community college anymore. Between doing all the manager responsibilities for the band, and attending as many performances as I can, I’m exhausted when I go in there.”
He drove in silence for a few moments. “Well, you handle our money too. Can we afford to pay you?”
That was the big question. Would this success continue? Or was it a short-term thing? What would their payroll look like? They’d need to pay the musicians a living wage, of course, and if she quit her job, she’d need a living wage too. The other employees she’d mentioned could be part-time.
“Let me work on finding out. I’m going to call in an accountant to look at our books and our future planned income. We have the goal of paying at least the four of us full-time salaries, but I need help with that before I decide if I can quit my job.”
“You’re amazing.”
“Stay tuned.” With that, she leaned back in her seat, closed her eyes and let slumber overtake her.
THE NEXT WEEK, THE band was booked in Hilton Head Island for multiple performances all weekend. The venue was an outdoor amphitheater that sported a covered bandstand in the middle of a big waterfront park. Rows and rows of wooden benches stretched out facing the stage, providing seating for nearly a thousand people. It was the biggest venue they’d played yet, and Haley was thrilled that they’d managed to get included in Hilton Head’s Battle of the Bands festival. A dozen bands graced the stage throughout the festival. Ace in the Hole was scheduled for an hour on Friday evening, another hour on Saturday afternoon and a half hour finale on Saturday night. Spectators were encouraged to vote for their favorite bands, and a judging panel weighed in too, to come up with the Battle of the Band winner on Sunday. The winner walked away with a trophy and a cash prize.
Late afternoon on Friday, the band had arrived, Haley had checked in with the festival organizers, and received their instructions regarding performance times, lengths, and set up instructions. They were all set.
Blake wrapped an arm around Haley’s waist and smiled down at her. “How about we grab something to eat?”
The whole crew was there ... Jake and Lindsay, Robbie and Helen, so they headed toward one of the waterfront crab shacks and waited twenty minutes for a table. They ordered pounds of crabs, which the waitress shoveled onto their table covered with newsprint. No plates, no silverware other than the tools necessary to crack open the crabs and get the luscious meat out. Dipping trays filled with melted butter made it even better, as well as pitchers of iced cold beer. It was messy but it was fun.
Haley was happy that the mood at the table was lighthearted and festive, especially since she had spent little to no time with the girls lately. First, she’d been busy. Second, whenever she had the choice, she avoided them. She knew how they felt about her, well, Lindsay at least. Maybe she wasn’t being fair to Helen. But she had no room in her life for negativity.
“This festival is awesome. I wonder how many other country bands there are,” Jake commented.
Haley looked up, about to respond when Lindsay’s voice came, pinched with anger. “Why don’t you ask your favorite band manager? I’m sure she has a spreadsheet and a website and could look that right up for you.”
Haley’s mouth was open, and she closed it, quiet. Lindsay’s comment came from a place of anger, but she’d let it go if it meant they could keep the peace. “About half, Jake, are modern country bands. There’s also some classic rock, some hillbilly and even a couple gospel bands.”
“It’s a really fun environment,” said Blake. “I’m happy we got in here. Fun too, being in Hilton Head Island.”
Haley winked at him, grateful for his kind comment. But the kindness at the table didn’t last long. Lindsay dropped a crab cracker onto the table with a heavy clunk. Jake looked over. “Babe?” he said cautiously.
“Let’s all take another moment to worship at the altar of Haley Witherspoon. Let’s all sing praises that if Blake hadn’t met Haley we’d still be singing at bars like Winners Lounge and The Crazy Crab in Myrtle Beach. Oh hail, almighty Haley.”
The air pushed out of Haley’s lungs at the magnitude of her sarcasm and obvious hatred. Jake addressed Lindsay first. “Hey, that’s not necessary.” Jake looked up at Blake.
Blake placed his own utensils on the table and started unrolling from the paper towel roll, wiping the grease off his hands. “Come on now. No need to be mean, Lindsay. Look, we all appreciate the work you did for the band. But yes, Haley is doing the band management now and she’s doing a great job. She’s booking us at really nice places and getting us seen by a lot more people. Don’t take it personally.”
Lindsay stood, tugging her legs out from the picnic-style table. She appeared undecided whether she’d storm off or stick around for one more retort. Unfortunately for all of them, she decided the latter.
“I’m getting sick and tired of this new pace. Some of us have to work everyday. I don’t have the flexibility to take off work to drive two, three hours to a gig. I’m exhausted from all this. I don’t see what was so wrong with the way things were before.” She pulled her gaze away from Haley and swept a look at the rest of them. “Why couldn’t you leave well enough alone?”
She ran off, while everyone at the table sat, frozen. Haley eyed over at Jake. He stood, watching her go. Slowly, he turned back to the table and sat.
“I’ll let her cool down. She’s making no sense. She’ll be fine.”
Haley didn’t know Jake that well, but he sounded like he was hoping that would be true but wasn’t certain. She glanced over at Helen, who Haley assumed was Lindsay’s best friend. Helen raised her head and met gazes with Haley. She shrugged one shoulder. “She’s been worked up about this for quite a while. I’m actually glad she let it out.”
So, no one was going after her. Interesting. Maybe, as in the way of bullies, no one actually agreed with her. Maybe they just went along with her because it was easier that way.
Soon the table returned to lighthearted conversation and the sound of cracking crabs. Showtime was two hours away and they were just thankful to be here.