Chapter 7
At the intersection of Saxonburg Boulevard and Route 8, Mitch, Mary, and The Demands moved fresh furniture into the new second-story red brick office that Mitch had rented for a pittance. The fresh scent of new carpet and the visuals of a slick room suggested a new plateau for the band. Even Greg, for once, volunteered his muscle without complaint.
“Sorry for the delay, all,” Mary said as she tapped her clipboard with a pen. “We’d have been up and running last week, but the wiring wasn’t completely up to code as the owners thought. At least now we don’t have to worry about the place burning down.”
“One less problem, five hundred to go.”
“Karl, I’ll kindly thank you to zip it. Now, here’s the latest. I’ve crunched numbers and the rent should be covered by three club dates a month.” Mary, pleased with herself, placed her pen over her ear.
“Okay, next item of business… All band members must be present for approval to participate, with no exceptions, and agree upon the terms of completion for this official relocation of the new office.”
“Come again?”
“Wha—?”
“—the—”
Greg slung an uncharacteristically baffled look in her direction. “What in God’s name are you nattering on about, girl?”
“Why, the usual post-move meal ritual, silly. Pizza, pop, wings, and beer, the four essential food groups. There’s a killer pizza place three miles from here that delivers, so… Pepperoni? Extra cheese? Onions? Pineapple?”
“I always wanted to try anchovies,” Karl said as he opened and closed cabinets in the small break room.
“You try them on your own time and your own dime,” Mitch replied, cross-legged on the floor.
##
They hit the pizzas like puppies on a feed bowl.
Laney asked, “Who wants more?”
Mitch groaned and patted his belly. “I’ll pass.”
“I’ll pass.”
Waving a hand, Karl said, “More, more.”
“Bear in mind, junior woodchuck, you can’t eat like a horse all your life. Beer and food catches up to you,” Ian said.
“Ri-rownt-rare,” Karl garbled, stuffing the piece in two bites.
“Just…” Mary pinched her thigh and winced. “One slice.”
Ian was sleepy-eyed. “Think I’ll skip my workout today. The move qualifies, I think.”
“Mary. Bad news. This wall socket’s not charging my phone,” Laney said in a flat voice that sounded like a TV announcer.
“I’ll make the call. Let me know if you can’t charge in the other ones.”
“A less-than-auspicious debut of the new office, but at least the floor hasn’t fallen through,” Laney replied. “Maybe that’s why you got a deal on the rent.”
Mary wordlessly reached over to her desk, yanked her Betsy Johnson purse then marched past everyone, out the door and down the steps.
“I’d better see to her…”
“Ah, Mitch, I was just playin’—”
Mitch spun on his heel. “Laney, your attitude’s gotten you far but remember who you should save it for, and cut the rest of us some slack!”
The office door slowly closed behind Mitch, the clack of its closure the only sound for thirty seconds.
“So, whaddaya think, are those two bangin’ each other?”
“Oh, Karl, do us all a favor and kindly fuck off,” Laney said in a guilt-soaked moan as she rested her head, eyes closed, against the wall.
==
