Kip took a drink from his glass. “She’s no coin purse. She’s my biographer. And we were working not bumping nasties.”
“Biographer?” Jack said with incredulity.
“Yes, Jacky. I’ve actually done more in my life than play bass and sing. I have a story to tell. She’s going to help me tell it.”
“Kip, you don’t even talk to the band about your life,” Jack said before taking another pull from the Crown Royal bottle. “Now you’re going to put it all out there in a book?”
“That’s right Jacky. You want to know more about me, read the book.”
Jack studied Kip to see if he was being serious or yanking his chain. He decided he could not tell.
“Well, you’ll have to give me a free signed copy when it’s done.”
Kip tilted the glass back and drained the last of it, then reached for the bottle, taking it from Jack’s hand.
“No Jacky. You’re going to have to pay.” He said and he filled his glass again.
Jack gave Kip that look again, the one where he wasn’t sure if Kip was joking or not. Then Kip smiled a half smile at him before taking another drink. Jack still didn’t know what that meant. That’s what Jack loved about Kip. He was independent to a fault. He never went out of his way to let anyone inside his head. At least Jack had never seen it. Kip was loyal to a fault though, and the nicest guy Jack had ever met.
Kip saw the confusion in Jack’s face. He relished in it. Just like his dad had always said, back before he didn’t say anything at all to Kip, ‘Always leave them guessing’. Kip was good at that.
Jack motioned toward the bedroom with the bottle he had just taken back from Kip.
“So, what’s wrong with her?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” Kip replied.
“Well, I know she got here last night, so she’s been here all night and all day,” Jack said. “And you said you haven’t added her to your Kip list. So, what’s wrong with her?”
Kip scratched his head and turned to walk back to the couch. “There is not a damn thing wrong with her. She must have a force field or something. She resisted the Kip charm.”
“Interesting,” Jack said, following him to the couch.
“Isn’t it though?” Kip replied.
Jack took a seat on the leather chair next to the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table.
“Well, don’t worry, buddy. Happens to the best of us.” He smiled.
“How would you know?” Kip said sarcastically.
“Easy now, Kip,” Jack said. “Keep that up and I might not have your back tonight at the club.”
“The club?” Kip asked. “Who said I was going to a club tonight, Jacky?”
“We did, Kip,” Jack said. “Stabs and Lock and I. We decided. Come on. Let’s have an end of tour blow out. Bring your lady friend there along.”
“I’m afraid I won’t be joining you at the club,” a voice sounded from behind Jack’s head. Kip looked up and Jack turned around in his chair. Annie stood there in Kips T-shirt with the silk sheet wrapped around her waist. Her hair was mussed, but she was still stunning. The perfect woman, Kip thought. Fresh out of bed and still a knockout.
Jack stood and turned to her. His jaw dropped at her beauty, and the fact that her nipples were giving Kip’s T-shirt some new wear points. Then he gathered his wits. “Hey, the biographer is up and about!” he said.
“Calm down, Jacky,” Kip said. “She doesn’t do Rockers.”
Jack looked deflated. He glanced at Kip and back to Annie, who was heading back into the bedroom. “Hell, I’m no rocker. I just play drums. I am respectable, not like this degenerate here.” He pointed to Kip.
Annie laughed from somewhere in the bedroom, out of sight. “You’re in a rock band. That gets you on the ‘no’ list.”
Jack turned to Kip, who looked amused on the couch. “She has a list,” Jack whispered and he shrugged. Kip shrugged back.
“And you’re on it, Jacky,” Kip said. “That’s something.”
“But it’s the wrong list,” he said, smiling. “It’s the exact opposite list of the one I want to be on.”
“Well, it gives you a starting point, right?” Kip said with a laugh.
“Actually, no,” Annie said from the bedroom. “It’s the opposite of a starting point. He has to work backwards from the no list until he gets to zero. Then he has to work his way up the yes list. I am afraid it doesn’t look good for… who are you again?” she finished as she walked from the room, dressed but barefoot. She headed to her shoes which were exactly where she left them when she kicked them off last night.