Love is a Drum Beat

2. Dax

2

DAX

“No, that isn’t right.” Dax Nelson removed his glasses and scrubbed a hand over his face. He was never going to get this song done.

“Dax.” Marco crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat beside Dax. “I don’t hear anything wrong with it.”

Of course he didn’t. No one ever did. But Dax could pick out the tiniest imperfection in his songs. He knew when a single note needed to be altered, how a misplaced breath could change the entire song.

Marco was the best producer in L.A., and when Dax told the label it was who he wanted for his new album, they didn’t argue. What Dax Nelson wanted, Dax Nelson got.

But it also meant butting heads with the producer constantly because they both thought they knew best for the song.

“I want to sing it again.” Dax stood, preparing to walk into the recording booth.

Marco stopped him. “The song is good, Dax.”

Dax shook his head. “Good isn’t great.”

Marco sighed but didn’t argue further. He’d probably been told the artist was always right, at least when that artist was Dax.

Dax had been a child musical prodigy who turned into one of the most successful artists in the world, but he didn’t let that slow him down. Hard work was all he knew, all he had.

Outside the recording studio he was an awkward man who never knew the right thing to say or the right way to act. But here, surrounded by the music, every move was so clear. Here, he could be confident, be in charge of his own destiny.

He stepped up to the microphone. “You ready, Marco?”

Marco gave him a thumbs up through the glass, and the music started to play.

Dax let the song wrap around him as he started to sing. This was his least favorite part of any song, the singing. He played every instrument for his songs, recording them at different times to layer in. Piano. Guitar. Violin.

Everything was in his control.

When the song finished, he took a seat beside Marco once more. “Let’s hear it.”

Marco played the song, and Dax smiled as soon as he noticed the changes. “It’s good, maybe even great.”

“It’s the same as it was before.” Marco raised a brow.

“Only if you’re listening to the words. You have to pay attention to the spaces between them, the extra breaths, the build.”

“Dax, your fans will listen to the words.”

Dax shrugged. “I didn’t make those changes for them. They’ll like the song regardless, but I can’t put my name to something I don’t believe in.”

Marco grumbled something about artists that Dax didn’t catch.

Dax only shook his head and stood. “I need to get over to the label for a meeting with my new publicist.”

“What happened to Melanie?” Marco glanced up at him.

That was a good question. The Melanie he knew never would have run off with Noah of all people. He was happy for them, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t weird. He would never understand love. Unless it was a love for music.

He realized he’d waited too long to answer. “She quit the label and is currently in London.”

Marco’s brow arched in surprise. “We are talking about Melanie Snyder here, right?”

Dax shrugged and reached into his messenger back for his ball cap. He put it on his head and pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up.

He hadn’t seen many paparazzi around the recording studio, and even if they did see him, they wouldn’t know it was Dax Nelson. But he still wouldn’t risk it.

Marco laughed. “You look ridiculous.”

“I’d rather look ridiculous than like a star people want to mob.”

“Isn’t that part of the fun of being famous? All the screaming fans.”

Dax pulled on the collar of his sweatshirt. He’d been asked this question so many times. Few people understood his need for privacy, for secrecy. He wanted to continue making music, but flashing cameras and crowds terrified him. “This job isn’t about the fame, Marco. It’s about the music.”

Marco smiled at that. It wasn’t the first time Dax had worked with the man, and there was a mutual respect. They both recognized the talent in the other.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Dax gave a final wave and ducked out into the hall. A few other artists were here today, recording what they hoped would be hits.

The difference between them and Dax? Dax knew his songs would be hits. He didn’t have a big ego or think he was the king of music, but he’d gotten to the point in his career where fans would buy and listen to anything he put out.

It didn’t make him work any less though.

He glanced behind himself to make sure the hall was clear before pushing out into the bright L.A. sun. The studio sat in an arts district near galleries and fancy restaurants. At night, the area came alive with street performers. But during the day, Dax could slip from the studio unnoticed.

The hiding was a routine by now. He kept his eyes on his feet as he walked down the street and ordered a car. The few people who knew who he was didn’t understand why he didn’t drive one of his nice cars through L.A. The truth? Driving in traffic made him nervous. Leaving his car in parking lots made him nervous.

Basically, life made him nervous.

By the time he reached the small artisan bakery he went to every time he was at the studio, his car was only a few minutes away. He walked inside, and the dark-skinned, older woman behind the counter smiled.

“Dillon.” She greeted him with the name he’d given her two years ago when he first discovered the place. Though, the way she said it hinted at her knowing it was a lie.

“Good morning, Nevaeh. How are you today?”

She laughed at his formality. It was a dance between them. He wasn’t quite sure how to relate to normal people, and she indulged him.

“I’m just wonderful, Dillon. Your usual?”

He nodded. “Can you put an extra shot in it?”

One eyebrow lifted. “Living dangerously today, are we?”

“Just living busy.” He’d need the extra caffeine from the espresso shot to get through the meeting.

Nevaeh hummed as she worked, and Dax surveyed the rest of the bakery. It was empty, save a few young adults huddled around tables. They must have been Dax’s age, but he felt so much older than them as he watched them laugh and joke. He’d started working at the age of eleven and never looked back. There was no normal school experience. Once word got out that he had the ability to play most instruments he picked up, that was the end.

His parents tried to save him from the music world, but even at that young age, he’d insisted on pursuing it.

Nevaeh slid the cup across the counter as Dax’s phone beeped with an alert that his car was outside. He handed Nevaeh a twenty.

“That’s too much, dear.”

Dax shrugged. “It’s all I have on me. Keep it. Please.”

She smiled. “You try to have a good day, Dillon. Don’t be so serious all the time.”

He lifted his to-go cup in a salute and headed out the door to his waiting minivan.

Oh man, he was going to catch so much crap for showing up at the label’s offices in the back of a minivan.

He wasn’t sure he cared.

He greeted the driver and climbed into the car. It was a short ride to the studio, so after thanking the man, he stepped out, readying himself for his new publicist.

Melanie had been everything he’d needed for his career. She never pushed him to reveal his identity, and she created Rockstars Anonymous, the group he now considered his friends.

He walked in past the glass double doors. The lobby of this place never changed. Gold records adorned the walls in frames, and the tile floors echoed beneath his feet. He didn’t come here a lot, but there was a certain comfort in knowing every person in this building believed in him, even if they didn’t recognize him. Only a few select people at the label knew his face. Mr. Snyder, the head of the label, Melanie, and soon this new publicist.

He walked down the long hall to his new publicist’s office and knocked on the door.

The assistant sitting near the door looked to him. “Can I help you, sir?”

“I have a meeting with Mr. Devlin Norris.”

The assistant looked down at her appointment calendar. “Are you Mr. Winthrop?” Melanie came up with that false last name.

He almost laughed. “Yes, Dillon Winthrop.”

She pursed her lips and looked him up and down. He could imagine what she saw. A man with untamed hair and glasses, his hands stuffed in the pouch of his sweatshirt as he shifted from foot to foot, and a ball cap pulled down, casting his face in shadow.

The door opened, and a surprisingly young man smiled at him. “Sarah, hold all my calls please. Mr. Winthrop gets my full attention.”

There was something about the man’s smile Dax didn’t like. He’d had reservations when he got the email telling him of his new publicist. This was the man who outed Noah’s marriage to the press. He obviously didn’t value secrets.

And Dax’s was the king of all secrets.

He followed Devlin into his office and shut the door.

Devlin turned with another smile. “Dax Nelson. You are not what I was expecting.” He sat on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms.

“I know. I’m not what anyone expects.” He was never supposed to be this guy people fell in love with—even when they didn’t know what he looked like.

Devlin’s stare unnerved him. He felt it probing to peek into every dark crevice of Dax’s secrets.

Devlin uncrossed his arms. “Okay, I know you had a good relationship with Melanie, but I hope we can become friends too.”

He could hear Melanie’s response to that. Publicists couldn’t be friends with their clients. But that was before she went and fell in love with one.

“Sure.” It was the only answer Dax had for the man.

His smile dropped at the one-word response. “Okay, let’s start with the first thing we must discuss. Collaborations.”

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door.

Devlin got up to open it and let Mr. Snyder into the room. Dax didn’t know Mr. Snyder well, and the man intimidated him.

“Dax.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He looked tired, worn out. He stuck out his hand. “It’s good to see you.”

Dax took the man’s hand. “It is.”

Mr. Snyder and Devlin shared a look that said neither of them knew how to handle the label’s biggest star who didn’t like to speak.

“Everyone have a seat.” Mr. Snyder waved them toward the chairs near the desk and took one himself. “Dax, normally we’d meet with you in the meeting room with many of the label execs present, but you’re different. If we want to continue keeping your identity a secret, I will have to meet with you here.”

Dax nodded, though he didn’t see the need for meetings at all.

“What if we didn’t?” Devlin asked.

Mr. Snyder’s eyes snapped to him. “Didn’t what?”

“Keep his identity a secret. We could do a big reveal.” He glanced at Dax. “After some hair and clothing help, of course. Maybe contacts too.”

Dax bristled at that and opened his mouth to speak, but Mr. Snyder beat him to it. “Out of the question, Devlin. Dax’s identity is one of the great mysteries in music. We will not give up his anonymity.”

We? It was Dax’s life, and they talked like it was only a business decision.

Devlin leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. "Just think about all the publicity."

Mr. Snyder’s gaze hardened, and Dax was glad he wasn’t on the receiving end of that look. “This will not be another Noah Clarke debacle. You, Devlin, work for the label and will not reveal anything unless we tell you to. Do you understand me?”

Devlin sighed and nodded.

Mr. Snyder turned to Dax. “How is the new album coming?”

“It’s coming.”

“I’ve only received a handful of songs. We expected more by now.”

Dax only shrugged at that. The songs would be done when they were done, and the label would give him the extra time. They always did.

“Dax.” Mr. Snyder turned in his seat. “We need you to finish this album because once it’s done, we have a list a mile long of artists asking to do collaborations with you.”

“I choose my collaborations.” He always had. Because doing a collaboration meant letting someone else in on his secret.

Mr. Snyder sighed. “I know that. The label knows that. But collaborations are good for your brand.”

“My brand doesn’t need any help.” He wasn’t trying to be difficult, truly. But he had never known how to soften the words he used. They kind of just leapt out of him.

“Not even from Ben Evans?”

Dax’s brow furrowed. “Ben? No, if he wanted a collaboration, he’d just come to me.”

“That’s not how it works, Dax. Fate thinks their next album should include a song with you. I’m sure Ben was going to tell you.”

But then, he went to London to be there for Noah, and now he was in Ohio. “When will he be back in town?”

“One week.”

Dax nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it. But tell Ben it has to be a Piper Hayes song. I want her lyrics with my music.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged. Now, I’ve done my job. I’ll leave you two to talk interviews.” He pushed himself from the chair and left.

Devlin steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them. He looked way too young for this job, in his appearance and mannerisms.

“So, Dax, do you ever plan on revealing your identity?”

Dax grunted. “No.”

“Do you realize how big a star you could become if you did concerts?”

Dax shrugged. “I don’t care.”

“But—”

“Is that all you wanted to meet about today?” Dax cut him off.

Devlin sighed and leaned back. “No. Your album releases in two months. The artwork is done. All we’re waiting for are the songs. And you need to prepare for the press. I’ll email you the interview requests, and you can send me back your answers since you won’t appear for the interviews in person.” He didn’t look like he agreed with the decision, but Dax didn’t care what he thought.

“Are we done here?” Dax checked his watch. He’d hoped for an early end to the meeting so he could get home to Santa Monica in time for the afternoon Rockstars Anonymous meeting. He never said much in the meetings, but he liked to hear what was going on with his friends.

Devlin sighed. Again. He was a sigher. “You’re going to be a difficult client, aren’t you?”

Dax stood. “Probably. Can I go?”

Devlin waved him toward the door. “Fine. But when I email you the questions, I expect answers.”

Dax gave him a two-finger salute and headed out the door. He didn’t acknowledge anyone on the way out as he ordered another car. Dax wasn’t the small talk kind of guy, he couldn’t walk down a hall smiling at people he didn’t know.

No matter the emotion—happiness, anger, sadness—he didn’t let it show.

His music did all the talking he needed.

“Hello, loves.” Noah flashed a grin at the camera that had each member of Rockstars Anonymous groaning. Well, not every member. Jo had yet to join their video chat.

“Don’t call us loves.” Drew grimaced.

“But I miss you.”

Ben arched an eyebrow. “We just saw you not long ago. You should miss Dax, not us.”

Noah let out a fake cry. “I’m all alone.” His image jostled, and Noah grunted as the phone was ripped from his hands and Melanie appeared.

“He is not alone, but he will be if he doesn’t shut up.”

Dax smiled at Melanie. He hadn’t always known how to relate to the big personalities in the group, but Melanie was their calming factor.

Drew laughed as Melanie continued pushing Noah out of the way.

“You made your bed,” Drew called. “Now, she’s sleeping in it.” He smiled at his own joke.

Dax didn’t know how joking and small talk seemed to come so naturally to his friends. He’d become the watcher, the observer. And it suited him.

“Where’s Jo?” Melanie asked.

Noah pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “She’ll come.”

“My eyes.” Drew slapped a hand over his eyes. “Noah, if you’re going to kiss Mom, then do it off camera.”

Melanie did not look amused. Drew and Noah had liked calling her their mom because she took care of them and wasn’t easy on them. But Dax figured Noah wouldn’t go near that word again. Not if he knew what was good for him.

The guys continued to joke until a notification appeared saying Jo was trying to get into the chat. The others weren’t paying attention, so Dax accepted her. It took a moment, but eventually her face appeared on his computer screen with her patented scowl.

Jo Jackson intimidated Dax. He never knew what to say around her and inevitably ended up babbling like an i***t. She was so different from anyone else he knew that he couldn’t help but watch her every time they were in the same place.

Leaning back on his couch, he pulled the laptop into his lap and looked at each of his friends. They were all so… happy. Well, except Jo.

She looked… tired and something else. Her pink-tipped, brown hair hung limp at her shoulders. There were dark circles under her eyes and a paleness to her face.

“You okay, Jo?” Dax’s question surprised all of them into silence.

Jo latched her teeth on her bottom lip. “I… yes, I’m okay.”

He didn’t believe her. Jo was seven months pregnant. He knew because he’d kept track. It was why he hadn’t gone to London with the rest. What if she needed someone? He wasn’t delusional enough to think he’d be her first choice, but currently, he’d be the only one.

Everyone else took Jo at face value, believing what they wanted to believe—that she wasn’t scared. But he could see the truth in her eyes.

“Dax.” Melanie leaned into the camera. “My dad tells me you met with your new publicist today.”

Noah stole the phone they were talking on. “He’s kind of a jerk, right?”

Melanie sighed. “Don’t call him that. You work with him now.”

“I’ve heard you call him worse things.”

Dax watched their banter in fascination. There was no scorn to their argument, not true anger. It was like they enjoyed needling each other. He cleared his throat. “He was okay, I guess.” Except for the part about wanting Dax to reveal his identity.

“Ringing endorsement.” Drew c****d his head. “I can’t wait until I get a chance to meet with him.”

Melanie frowned. “Drew, do not make his job more difficult.”

“He keeps emailing me interview questions from the most random publications. I am a rocker; I don’t do interviews for Golf Weekly.”

Melanie laughed at that. “Devlin believes in a more well-rounded approach. And he’s not completely wrong. Any publicity is good. All that blog wants to hear is that you enjoy golf.”

“But I don’t. I really, really don’t.”

Ben and Noah shared a laugh. Dax was too busy watching Jo to react. She’d leaned her head on the table in front of where her phone was propped up. There was something sad in her eyes and in the way she didn’t make fun of Drew like she loved to do.

Dax didn’t hear Ben saying his name until he’d repeated it a few times. “What?”

Ben laughed. “Well, Dax, I got an email from Mr. S. himself, saying my request for a collaboration with the one and only Dax Nelson was approved.”

Wow, Mr. Snyder moved fast. “Why did you ask the label and not me?”

“Because you wouldn’t have said yes.”

It was true Dax kept to himself, so much that even these meetings were a stretch of patience for a guy who preferred to be alone. But it was also true he’d say yes to any member of Rockstars Anonymous. They meant more to him than he’d ever admit. “Did Mr. Snyder tell you my stipulation?”

Ben nodded. “You want a Piper song.”

“Hey!” Drew chimed in. “Piper is still my assistant for the rest of this tour. I’m not letting go of her yet.”

“Do you know Piper at all, Drew?” Ben laughed. “She’s probably spent every spare moment on tour writing. She’ll have a song for us. I know it. And it’ll make her life to hear Dax Nelson performing her words. She’s a fan.”

Drew grinned. “Oh yeah, she’s a huge Dax fan. I can’t get her to turn your music off, man.”

Noah joined in. “I mean, who doesn’t love our Daxy? Our big, strong, very handsome Daxy.”

“Noah.” Melanie took the phone back. “Don’t be creepy. Look how red his face is.”

Dax removed his glasses to wipe them on his shirt, if for no other reason than to give him a distraction.

Only Jo didn’t laugh at their jokes. Her biting sarcasm was gone, and that scared him most of all.

“I’m going to go.” Jo didn’t give any of them a chance to respond before her image went dark and disappeared.

“Okay.” Noah sighed. “Dax might be right. There’s something wrong with her.”

“The pregnancy?” Drew asked.

Melanie shook her head. “Jo has come to terms with having a baby. Maybe she just isn’t feeling great. None of us here have ever had a whole other person inside us, but I imagine it isn’t fun.”

“My mom always said being pregnant was the best months of her life.” Dax shrugged, surprising himself for saying so much.

Noah’s eyes brightened. “Dax, you’re there! You can check on her.”

Dax’s face heated. “Um… er… what?”

“Ben can give you the code to the building since he lives there too.” His expression turned sincere, and Dax knew he meant every word. Noah cared about Jo. “Please make sure she’s okay. For me.”

There was a reason Dax avoided going to any of their homes. Being seen with a famous person would lead to questions as to who he was.

But this was different.

This was Jo.

For some inexplicable reason, he wanted to help her. She needed him, she just didn’t see it yet.

And he’d always needed her.