“This is Suzy Savoy,” Terry said, tugging her forward by an arm. “I’m sure you recognize her.” Suzy had fixed a grimace on her face that may have passed for a smile. The director pointed to each of the other band members in turn. “Eddie Edmunds, Gene Prideux, Laurel MacRae, and Erik Amundsen. And this is Evolution Device’s manager, George Westfall.” George had pushed me aside to step up next to the director. Richards began to point at me, but dropped his hand, frowning.
He turned back to the waiting crowd. “They’ve got a plane to catch, but they kindly agreed to stop by and meet you all for a few minutes.” With that the director abandoned us to our fate.
Eddie and the others were lambs facing the abattoir. Suzy’s face was positively stormy as she shrugged off yet another actor’s arm, and I could see Eddie’s distress blossom as he was surrounded by diamond and gold encrusted women — and men — who wanted to touch and be spoken to by the famous guitarist. Erik and Laurel fended off the worst of them by linking arms and sticking together.
Gene and George, though, wallowed in it. They sported beautiful women on their arms and plenty more waited for a turn. I checked Gene’s waistband. Where had the panties gone?
Excerpt from Evolution Device, a novel of music and magic.
I’m not talking left or right, Dem or Rep, Blue or Red.