Casey gives up on the menu. "Hey, man, I'm sorry. I just thought, I don't know, after everything you said about her. I thought you were closer."
Luke gives him a sharp look, and I catch my breath. I'm not sure what to do with that. Luke's not either, and Casey finally catches on that he's trying to tame a fire with gasoline.
"Um … ok, I'm gonna shut up now."
"That would be a good idea."
I need to intervene or this is going to be a disaster and I can't afford for that to happen. I can't be part of a circle that doesn't exist.
"So, Casey. Are you in Night Shifts Black, too?"
Casey seems surprised at first, then the grin returns. Even Luke cracks a smile so I know I'm hilarious, but I don't get the joke.
"What? What did I say?"
Luke shakes his head. "Nothing. You're fine. It's just a funny question."
"Why's it funny?"
Luke shrugs. "I don't know. It's not, I mean, it's just that we're not used to hearing stuff like that except from old people trying to be nice at charity events."
"Remember the Morning Star Senior's Ball?" Casey laughs.
Luke's eyes ignite. "Don't!"
Casey ignores him. "So there's this lady with a, what was that thing again? I don't know, some huge hat and boa thing. Anyway … "
"Case!" Luke turns to me. "She had good intentions."
"She thought he was the one benefiting from the charity because of the 'dreadful condition of his clothing!'"
"I was wearing $300 jeans and a Julian Salitoni jacket."
Casey smacks the table as his laughter hits a new decibel. "Oh man, I just about died when that happened. Dude, she was ready to take you home and give you a hot shower and cot in her living room."
I squint over at Luke and do an appraisal of my own. "I don't know. I kind of see it. I mean, there's the messy hair, and the jeans may be $300 but they look like they're one wash away from disintegrating. Your t-shirt could definitely use a bit of mending. I'd slip you a twenty as long as you promised not to buy booze with it."
Luke grins, and there's a strange dynamic heat that pulses through me. "I never would have promised that."
I sit back and give them a wry look. "Ok, fine, so I'm guessing what I'm supposed to take away from this little tale is that it's not often you encounter people under seventy-five who don't know who you are."
"Only because we don't have time to come in contact with those people." Casey realizes his mistake too late. I'm one of those people. "Well, you do, apparently," he says to Luke, and I'm not sure how that fixes anything.
Luke doesn't seem bothered by the comment, which surprises me.
I jump in anyway. "Alright, fine, so I get it. You're a super famous rock star in Night Shifts Black. Then can I ask what you play? Or should I already know that, too?"
"Now, I get why you like her. She knows nothing about us, does she?"
Luke's grin returns. "Nope."
I don't know if I'm blushing, but still manage to give them a stern look. "So, what, I'm supposed to grovel at your feet because you're big rock gods? Sorry if I was the only person on this planet who didn't know that."
"No, but now that you know, you should be groveling," Casey teases.
"Oh boy," Luke mutters.
I raise my eyebrows. "Really? What if I'm the princess of Tanzania? Maybe you should be groveling at my feet."
"If you're really the princess of Tanzania, I will. You'd have to prove it, though."
"Prove you're in Night Shifts Black."
Casey turns to Luke. "Am I in Night Shifts Black?"
Luke holds up his hands. "I'm not getting involved in this one. You're on your own."
"You're not involved. You're just verifying a fact."
Luke looks to me.
"It's ok. He's right. You can answer his question."
He sighs. "Fine. Yes, Casey plays drums in Night Shifts Black."
Casey leans back and crosses his arms, a satisfied smirk on this face. "Ok, there you go. Now, it's your turn, princess."
I clear my throat and turn to Luke. "Am I the princess of Tanzania?"
This time I get Luke's real laugh, and my own grin breaks.
"Yes, she is," he replies, clearly amused.
I turn to Casey and shrug. "There you have it."
"Why do I feel like I've been conned?"
"You haven't been conned, just out-voted," I return.
"Ha, fine. This is all breakfast club politics. I get it."
"There are no politics involved until you order. We only judge based on food selections here."
Luke signals Darryn. The servers at Jemma's have learned not to bother us until we're ready. We pretend we're being respectful of their time, but really they don't want to confront Luke before they get the all clear that he's not nuts that day.
"Coffee, please," Luke says, and Darryn nods.
"What about you?" Darryn asks Casey.
"Yeah, coffee's good."
"Tea for you?" he asks me.
"Yes, please."
"You guys eating today?"
I notice Darryn asks Luke, not me.
"Probably. Can we have a couple minutes, though?"
"Of course. I'll be back with your drinks."
We thank him.
"He knows you," Casey observes.
"He's a breakfast club regular," I explain.
Casey smiles. "If I'd known about breakfast club, I would have visited sooner."
"Yeah, right," Luke grunts. "You don't have time to visit. I still can't believe you showed up last night. Don't you have to be in Richmond tonight? I thought you guys were playing the Calisto Festival."
Casey almost looks hurt, and I'm surprised. "I would have stopped by as much as I could if you'd let me. You just didn't want me around. I didn't even know where you were until TJ called a few days ago. I got here the first second I could."
I can tell Luke doesn't want to have this conversation. I think it's more the subject itself than the fact that I'm present, however. I can't see him ever being comfortable with it.
"One of us needs to try the French toast," I say before we return to the uncomfortable silence.
"Why's that?" Casey asks.
"We've never ordered it, and I think it's time to diversify breakfast club. What do you think?" I ask Luke who shrugs. He hasn't recovered yet, and I turn back to Casey.
"So tell me more about being famous rock stars. I want to hear about the groveling."
Casey smiles, but the humor is gone. "Well, it hasn't been the same without your friend here, that's for sure. Luke was Night Shifts Black. Without him we're basically just a sad cover band."
I realize this conversation isn't going to help Luke's current state, but I'm too fascinated to give it up at the moment.
"At least you're still touring though, right?"
"Yeah, kind of. But we don't headline much anymore. We can't sell out a stadium without Luke Craven."
"Sweeny does fine," Luke mumbles.
"Yeah, sure," Casey smirks. "They're your songs, bro. No one will ever be able to handle them like you do."
Luke shuts down again, and I notice Casey's reaction this time. The other man legitimately cares about his friend. He's worried about him. He knows why Luke left and stuck them with Sweeny. He knows something about the ghost chair. I want to know now, more than ever, and wonder if Casey would tell me. He probably wouldn't, but I probably wouldn't have the heart to betray Luke and ask anyway.
Darryn returns with our drinks, and I'm afraid he notices the sudden unrest around his table. He might make us prepay for our food.
"Did you decide on your orders?" Darryn asks, but he's not optimistic.
We're quiet for a moment. Casey and I both look at Luke who is staring at the chair. Darryn shifts his weight and seems just a fraction below annoyed. I'm about to speak up and put us out of our misery when Luke suddenly orders French toast.
We all stare at him, and Darryn seems flustered. I quickly rescue the moment by doing the same.
Darryn hesitates before scribbling on his notepad and looking to Casey.
"What the hell, why not?" Casey adds, handing over his menu.
Darryn clears his throat. "Ok, three French toasts it is. Anything else?"
We shake our heads.
"No bacon? Fruit? Home fries?"
"Nope."
"Um, ok. Thanks."
"Do you think he has to go to counseling now because of us?" I ask after he disappears.
"He's at least insisted on a raise," Luke responds, and I grin.
We're back.
"So has my boy here told you about his other passion?" Casey asks.
"You mean, besides music?"
Casey nods, and Luke rolls his eyes.
"It's not a passion."
"You have eight of them."
"I like them."
"Exactly. It's a passion."
"And it is what?" I grunt, interrupting their argument.
"Bikes," Casey explains.
"Bikes? Like bike bikes, or motorbikes?"
Casey laughs. "Motorbikes? I love this girl. Where did you find her? She's like my grandma in the body of a cute college chick."