The Prince of Punk Rock (6 page)

Angel waited for Jessi and Tommy to
finish their conversation so he didn’t interrupt them.
 
“Couldn’t stay away?” He gave her a wink and
kissed her cheek.

“Tommy’s been raving about how
great you guys sound together, and from what I just heard,” she raised her
shoulders, searching for the right words, “I . . . I’m speechless.
 
That was over the top.”

“Thank you.
 
Wait until you hear some of the other
songs.”
 
He put his hand on Tommy’s
shoulder.
 
“This man has reinvented my
music.”

“Is OK if I stay?
 
I don’t want to impose.”

“Join us anytime.
 
I love having an audience to sing to during
practice.
 
There are drinks in the little
fridge.
 
Help yourself to anything.”

“Thanks.
 
You’re really sweet, Angel.”
 
She stopped and smiled at him before she took
a seat at the far end of the studio.

They picked up with one of Immortal
Angel’s most their popular songs,
Cyanide Sensation
.
 
Angel thought it was a brilliant piece of
music when they first wrote it.
 
Now that
Tommy added his flavor to it, mixing up the melody and adding a new riff, the
original version seemed lackluster and mediocre.
 
As Angel sang the lyrics, he envisioned the
new music they would create together and the journey that lay ahead.

Jessi watched Tommy play with
Immortal Angel for the first time with a sense of pride at his adaptation into
a new genre of music.
 
Damien’s wife was
sitting beside her.
 
There could have
been a thousand people in the room and everyone would know that Alyssa and
Damien were a couple. They were the perfect match for one another.

Alyssa’s straight black hair fell
three quarters of the way down her back.
 
Her dramatic eyeliner elongated her dark eyes.
 
A mélange of prolific tattoos covered her
arms and crossed the front of her chest.
 
They were a dark mix of skulls and spider webs. Jessi knew the
gothic-looking girl with thigh-high leather boots and dark red lipstick was
Damien’s wife as soon as she saw her.

Alyssa admired Jessi’s ink.
 
She was surprised that Alyssa was interested
her floral, feminine tattoos, but Alyssa worked in a tattoo shop. Not as an
artist, as a piercer.

Angel’s voice rang through the
studio and interrupted their conversation. Jessi got lost in the sound of his
voice.
 
It was spotless.
 
He made eye contact with her, and she was
almost hypnotized by the power of his voice and his good looks.
 
He was beautiful, and he was sweet and
funny.
 
She could see why Tommy was
infatuated with him.

She watched Tommy bounce around,
flipping his long blond hair in tune to the music.
 
He circled Angel and then leaned into him
with his shoulder.
 
They turned and
pressed their backs up against one another.
 
Tommy ripped up his guitar and Angel sang his heart out.
 
Angel writhed against Tommy’s back, turning
the lyrics into a provocative vibrato. They turned to face each other, leaning
forward, taunting each other with lyrics and riffs.
 
There was a natural chemistry between
them.
 
It inflated the song and engaged
the listener.

“Does Angel have a boyfriend?”
 
Jessi whispered to Alyssa.

“No. Not for about a year.”

“How come?
 
He’s so cute.”

Alyssa shrugged. “He’s living the
life, I guess.
 
I’ve known Angel a long
time.
  
He’s a really good guy.
 
When he’s with someone, he’s very
committed.
 
He’s loyal.
 
He doesn’t stray.
 
But when he’s single, like now,” she
chuckled, “he can’t keep it in his pants.
 
And if Angel has his eye on someone, he doesn’t stop.
 
He’s like dog in heat.
 
Relentless.”

Jessi sighed.
 
That’s exactly what she was afraid of.
 
She’s been in a whirlwind since Tommy’s first
audition.
 
She recognized the talent Angel
and his band possessed right away. They had the potential to catapult to
stardom.
 
An opportunity like that came
along once in a lifetime.
 
She would
never let Tommy pass it up, not that it was an option.
 
Tommy was committed the second he started
playing with the band, probably the second he met Angel.
 
There was only one problem – Angel
Garcia.
 
Why did he have to be so damn
good looking and so damn charming?
 
Angel
was either going to be the best thing that ever happened to them, or the worst
thing that ever happened to them.

Jessi never saw Tommy attracted to
anyone the way he was attracted to Angel, and it was clear that Angel felt the
same way.
 
There was an obvious
flirtation, an allure, almost a fascination, between the two and they’ve only
known each other a few weeks.

She realized that this was only the
beginning.
 
Tommy and Angel would be spending
long hours together from now on.
 
Her
heart dropped into the pit of her stomach.
 
Everything had a price.
 
The
higher the prize, the higher the penalty, and the price of fame and notoriety
may very well be her marriage.

Chapter Eight

Angel couldn’t decide if the
candles made it look like he was trying too hard or not.
 
He took them on and off the table a half
dozen times and finally left them there as a centerpiece.
 
As long as the lights stayed on, the candles
wouldn’t epitomize romance.
 
He wanted to
have everything prepared before Tommy and Jessi arrived, but he wasted so much
time with the table setting that he was still finishing up the salad when they
rang the doorbell.

Jessi held up two bottles of wine
and gave him a peck on the cheek.
 
“Whatever
you’re cooking smells delicious!”
 
Her
words trailed behind her as her nose lead her into the kitchen.

Angel tried to tone down the
illumination in his face when he greeted Tommy, but the light was too bright to
dim. “Welcome to my home.”
 
He embraced
Tommy, kissed his cheek and escorted him into the living room.

Tommy titled his nose up to the
air, the same way Jessi did when she first entered the apartment.
 
“What is that, pork?”

“Yes.
 
I’ve been cooking all day.
 
I can’t wait for you to taste my Cuban Lechon
Asado.
 
It’s my family’s signature dish.”

Jessi reappeared, less one bottle
of wine.
 
“It smells heavenly.”
 
She wiggled the bottle in her hand.
 
“Glasses?”

“Let me get that.” He took the wine
from her and both Jessi and Tommy followed him into the kitchen.
 
He dug out a corkscrew from the top drawer
and three of his best wine glasses, filling each with the aromatic Pino
Grigio.
 
“I think a toast is in order.”
 
He held his glass high.
 
“To our future. May we be rewarded with all
the luxuries and opportunities life has to offer.”

Tommy and Jessi held up their
glasses.

“To our success.”

“To a lifelong friendship.”

After they clinked their glasses
together and drank, Jessi approached the counter where Angel had abandoned his
half-made salad.
 
A bowl of washed
lettuce sat in a strainer along side a bowl of vegetables waiting to be
chopped.
 
She placed several tomatoes on
the cutting board and tied his discarded apron around her waist.

 
“No.”
 
Angel stopped her.
 
“I don’t want
you to do that.
 
You’re my guest.”

Jessi stiffened.
 
“I’m sorry. Am I overstepping again?
 
I get too comfortable too quickly
sometimes.”
 
She untied the apron and
strung it through the handle of the oven door.
 
“You’re a chef.
 
This is your
kitchen. I didn’t mean to take over.”

“Don’t make me feel bad now,
sweetheart.”
 
He handed her back the
apron.
 
“You can help me with the
salad.
 
Everything else is done.”

“It’s the least I can do,
Angel.”
 
Her eyes traveled over the
covered dishes and pots on the stove.
 
“Look at the work you put into this meal.”
 
She looped the apron over her head, tied it
around her back and snickered under her breath. “Is this your apron?”

She was teasing him.

“Yes, chefs wear aprons.”

Now she flat out laughed.
 
“Plain white aprons, not aprons that say,
Kiss the Cock”.

He had a moment of embarrassment
before he joined in her laughter.
 
The
spin on the classic Kiss the Cook slogan was so similar that he forgot the play
on words.

As she started slicing tomatoes,
Tommy watched her.
 
He walked up behind
her, circled his arms around her waist and buried his nose in the back of her
hair.
 
“You look hot when you cook in six
inch heels.
 
You should do it more
often.”

She smiled and leaned back into him
as she cut into a tomato.
 
He kissed the
back of her neck and whispered something into her ear that made her
giggle.
 
He picked up a cucumber, made an
inappropriate gesture to her with it and then pointed it at Angel.
 
“Do you want me peel this thing?”

“You’re both so sweet, but I’m
supposed to be making dinner.”

Tommy ignored him and picked up the
vegetable peeler. “May I?”

“Of course.
 
But you don’t have to.”

Angel retrieved the large salad
bowl from the cabinet and was about to put it on the counter, but the sight of
Tommy and Jessi working in his kitchen brought him to a halt.
 
It was hard to believe they’ve only known
each other for a few weeks.
 
They shared
a closeness that resembled family, but that’s what happens when you spend most
of your time together, enjoying the mutual passion that drives you to play
music.