Dear Readers, Here is a newly rewritten chapter that integrates with the core of the original Wildcat Fall. This is the continuing saga. I would appreciate any feedback. Constructive criticism is important to me as I am rewriting this story. Thanks.
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Chapter Eleven

Jessica Jade called Lisa excitedly. “I found our guy! He’s got a Facebook page promoting his band, and he’s a pretty successful producer at Electric Lady Studios in New York City. I’d say you inherited his genes!”

Lisa looked at his photo and read a blurb from the recording studio website. “I see him. He’s gotta be talented to work at Electric Lady. It’s considered one of the classic studios.”

Jessica was excited. “I think we hit the jackpot. He’s not doing anything crazy. He seems pretty responsible.”

Lisa finished reading his bio. “You know, he’s playing at a small club this weekend. It seems like he and his band are regulars at four venues in Greenwich Village. I don’t see anything about recording or touring. Wikipedia doesn’t even list him, and there’s no discography either.”

Jessica heard the sound of Lisa’s voice. “Are you disappointed?”

Lisa was trying to be honest. She shrugged. “Well, I was hoping that my DNA belonged to a superstar.”

Jessica laughed. “Well, at least you can go hear his band play. It’s only a couple of hours to Manhattan.”

“You’re right. I’m going to call Richard. Maybe he can score us some seats. We could even go this weekend.”

“Well, whatever you do, don’t leave Teri behind. If you went to see your guy play and forgot her, she’d never forgive you.”

“Yeah, she’d freak. Thanks for all the hard work.”

“You’re welcome. But we still have to test a DNA sample.”

“Yeah. But just knowing who he is. I mean, this guy really is our blood.”

When Lisa called Richard, she was shocked to hear him say, “Whoa! No, Lisa. You’re rushing into this too quickly. I know you’re excited, but how about letting Jessica do a deep dive into his background? I’m still concerned about whether he has problems with drugs, alcohol, gambling, or women. We don’t want to rush this. It might backfire on the Wildcats if the guy has past problems.”

Lisa wanted to argue, but after Teri’s medical records were posted online, she realized that they had to be careful. “Sure, okay. But can you take charge and direct this? I’m just too close to what’s happening here. I’m probably not using my thinking brain.”

“Sure, Lisa. I can’t blame you for wanting to know more.”

“Well, I hope Teri feels the same way after all those years. But testing his DNA is still important to do.”

When Teri picked up her phone, she was surprised to see Lisa calling. She expected to talk to Zoe about her rock opera. “Hey, Lisa! What’s up?” She watched Jenn slip out from under the covers and head into the bathroom.

“Teri, very cool news. Jessica found our guy. Jack Dempsey is the source of our musical genes.”

“Huh? Seriously?”

“Yep. He’s in a band and works as a producer.”

“Whoa! How awesome is that! We inherited his talents!”

Lisa shook her head. “It looks like that. He plays regular gigs in Manhattan. Richard’s taking over the investigation before we get to go face-to-face.”

Teri was already on her computer and Googling. “Oh, wow! How cool is all this? But you know, neither of us look like him. Yeah, I guess we are much more Mom than Dad. That’s crazy to think that this guy is real and has a name. And look. He’s a couple hours away. But the big question is, when can we go hear him play?”

Lisa frowned. “Richard says we need to hold back until they do some serious digging.”

Teri grinned. “Yeah, I hear you. But how about if you and I go ninja-style? Nobody has to know.”

Lisa laughed. “That’s what I want to do, too. But Uncle Richard is all about putting on the brakes. He wants to wait while Jessica does a deep dive into his background to make sure there’s no bad stuff. And he wants Mr. Dinardo in on it, too.”

Teri was laughing. “Yep! I can hear him now with all his big worries. “

“He did have a point, saying that we didn’t want to do anything that could blow back on the Cats. But let's keep this a secret.”

Teri was nodding as she looked at her laptop. “Okay. According to Jack Dempsey’s Facebook page, he’s playing on Friday and Saturday night at the Bitter End. That place is famous and has an old-school feel. We can sneak out of town and take the train up, stay the night, and sneak right back. You bring Smith, and the four of us can go.”

Lisa wanted to see this guy. “Yeah, but no telling anyone where we’re going. We have to tell them another story like we’re going to the Poconos for one of those romantic getaway weekends.”

Teri laughed. “Yuk. I’m not lying on those sticky sheets that thousands of people have had sex on!”

“How’s that sound to you, Jack?” The young musician looked straight into the control room's glass window. He’d been frustrated trying to get a smooth, mellow sound out of his guitar and looked towards the older guy to give him some help.

The producer had high hopes for the band. In his mind, they were a classic throwback to the times of the four-piece hard rock sound. Their lead singer, Richie Murgowski, had an amazing voice and was also a talented lyricist.

Charlie Clossen, one of the big agents at Capitol Records, was offering him work. “Hey, Jack. I got a new act, fresh off the festival circuit and making a name for themselves. The girls are going wild over these kids. We need someone to help refine their sound and produce a great recording. You have the gift.”

Jack smiled. He’d had so much smoke blown up his ass by record company flacks in his musical lifetime that the shit rolled off his shoulders. Instead of getting caught up in the hype, he focused on negotiating a lucrative contract for his time and energy. He wanted the moon, but would settle for a share of the gross sales.

He remembered good ole’ boy, Charles Clossen (call me Charlie), trying to negotiate with him. He started choking when Jack mentioned points on the gross. “Hey, dude. No one gets two points of the gross, nobody.”

Jack paused and let his words hang there. It was obvious that Charlie had already accepted his price, which meant he could have gotten more. He waited and then spoke. “Okay. One point and you double my fee.”

“Jack! Jeez, man. What’cha doin’ to me?”

“Charlie, we both know my salary comes out of the band’s signing advance. And with their talent and my production efforts, we’ll make hits for Capitol. Just saying it aloud ‘cause you know it, too.”

Silence on the phone. Jack smiled and pictured Charlie punching numbers into his calculator. Then he heard him clear his throat and speak. “Dude, can you have it done for a Spring release?”

Jack smiled, knowing they were done talking about the contract. “Sure. And for another fee, I’ll tour with them and do the sound board.”

“Would you be their musical director and arranger, too?

“Sure. But it’ll cost ya. My salary is prorated for however long they tour.”

Two days later, the contracts were signed, and his money was deposited. The check from Capitol covered his mortgage for the next three months and gave him some crazy cash, too. Jack wanted to take Emma out of town to celebrate. He knew a great Inn in Massachusetts, along with good places to dance and enjoy lobster rolls.

After meeting the band members in the lobby of their hotel, Jack did his usual tour guide routine, knowing this was the first time these guys had recorded and visited New York. He spoke slowly, making sure to maintain eye contact. “You’re only three blocks from the studio and walk past coffee shops, restaurants, and food carts. Beware, carts can be a great place to catch food poisoning.”

They all laughed, but Jack remembered too many recordings canceled by someone who had eaten a bad crab cake.

Jack set up a practice studio where they could play. He would come in and listen, occasionally asking questions about their music. With young bands, Jack knew that good communication was key. Instead of telling them what to do, he asked them to explain their actions. He was used to the blank stares and shoulder shrugs. Having worked with so many guys, he was familiar with the ‘I don’t know’ response.

But his goal was to get them thinking about their music. He wanted them to be more decisive about what they played and why.

As they played, Jack made notes on a yellow legal pad. They’d played him twenty-two songs worth recording. When they were done, he cheered. “This is great, guys. You’ve got some amazing tunes here that will make you stars. We’ll polish them up before we record.”

The next day, as they went through each song, Jack walked a thin line. He wanted them to try new approaches. Plenty of producers liked telling everyone what to do and what to play. But he wasn’t that kind of guy. He liked it better when the group came up with music. And sometimes the outcome was better than he hoped.

In his head, Jack was repeating their names: Richie, Spider, Marvin, and Tank. He knew he was getting old when he had to repeat the names to himself so he wouldn’t forget. But at a certain point, he smiled and said, “That sounds great, guys. What do you say we go and record a hit?”

As they were watching their equipment being rolled down the hall towards recording studio A, Jack walked with them. “Tank, our union guys will set up your drums. You direct them.” He turned to the rest of the band. “After that, the same guys will get your amps placed where we need them. Then we’ll balance your mics. Just remember that they will do all the moving. We’re a proud union shop.”

Since then, they’d completed five songs. But their guitarist, Spider, was still having trouble finding the sound he was looking for on their last number, Minor Chord Blues. It was a slow tune that needed a mournful guitar. Jack knew frustration could be a problem if it weren’t solved soon. “It’s good, Spider. Do you want to hear a playback?”

The guitarist nodded and listened. Afterwards, he frowned and shook his head. “Nah, man. That sucks. Still got too much edge. I’m not used to going for that easy tone. Man, soft sounds are hard to make. I dunno. Can you lend a hand and help me out?”

Jack smiled, “Sure, Spider. You’ve got great talent, buddy. Let me just show you some tricks.”

He took the young musician’s guitar into his hands. After sliding the strap over his shoulder, Jack fiddled with the controls on the amp. Then, reaching into his pocket, he fished out a glass tube and slid it on his left ring finger. Using the glass as a slide, he slowly played exactly what Spider had been trying to do.

The young musician looked awestruck. “Ah, man. That’s it!”

Back in the summer, when the Louisiana-based rock band heard they were going to New York to record with Jack Demsey, they suddenly got shy. “Uh, seriously,” the drummer said. “Man, I don’t know if we’re ready to really record in a studio and all of that stuff. We can only play what we know.”

But the Capitol Records guy insisted. “Reggie, it’s going to be fine. Jack Dempsey is a genius. And he’s a studio recording expert. Believe me, that man will be your guardian angel. If he takes you under his wing, well, you’ll get a string of hits out of your efforts together.” Charlie already knew that would happen. They wouldn’t have signed Deep Bayou if the record company didn’t think they’d make hits.

Now, Spider looked at Jack. “Aw, hell, man. You make it sound so good. Seriously, you should record it and I’ll listen to you!”

Jack shook his head and patted the seventeen-year-old on the shoulder. “You know your guitar work is what gives Deep Bayou their sound. I’m just facilitating.”

“No, dude. You make everything look so easy and sound so smooth. I wish I could play like that.”

The producer patted the kid on his shoulder as he handed the guitar back. “Hey, buddy. Those wishes will all come true. I’ll check back after you’ve played for twenty more years and have it all. Then you’ll be able to teach this old man some new tricks.”

“Jack, we’ve heard you sing and play with your band. You’re the bomb, guy.”

Jack Dempsey flipped the glass slide to him. “Keep that. Play around with it until you get set to record.”

Jack stood there patiently, watching Spider. The producer helped and encouraged him until the talented young guitarist mastered the sound he’d been searching for.

Spider looked up, grinning with confidence. “Yeah. Go ahead and play the whole song back. I can finally fit the right sound in there.”

Jack knew this was the final step to completing the song and building the guitarist’s confidence.

When Jack was done for the day, he said his goodbyes and headed home. He lived four blocks from the studio and enjoyed his walk along the quiet side streets in Greenwich Village. When he became a full-time producer at Electric Lady, he went shopping for a condo. With his new job and money he saved, he bought a two-bedroom walk-up at a reasonable price. He was a homebody, and owning his place provided him with a lot of comfort and security.

In the past, he’d usually stop and have a drink in a local bar. He’d hang out, eat a burger, throw darts, and play shuffleboard. But now, Jack had a reason to come straight home. He had a girlfriend.

When he walked through the door, Emma was there waiting and wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling his neck. She loved feeling his strong, solid muscles as her hands roamed his arms and chest. Just touching him got her excited. Working in front of the camera turned her on, but she was hungry for her beautiful man.

Jack grinned. She was a dream. Just looking at her made him feel like a kid again.

Emma kissed him. “Hey, Baby. I picked up Chinese, and I’m keeping it warm while we get a shower.”

Jack happily kissed her back. “Sounds good. I could really use that hot water on my shoulders. It’s all tight in there.” He flexed his neck and shoulders.

Emma led him into the bedroom as she unbuttoned his shirt. “Poor baby, you’re all knotted up with tension in those nerve bundles. Let me make it feel good for you.”

Jack often forgot that his girlfriend had a master's degree and was well-versed in human physiology. Besides being sexy and beautiful, she also had a brain inside that gorgeous head of hers. But he also knew what to do. He picked her up, spun her around, and heard her squeal.

It didn’t take long for them to be between the sheets. After that, he carried Emma into the shower. He asked, “Did you work today?”

Emma nodded. “I did ninety minutes with some fans and two private sessions where we just talked one-on-one. I shut down early to be with you.”

It always made him happy to think that this woman loved him. Most women didn’t realize that music was his life. But that didn’t seem to bother her. She was confident in herself, and they still found time to love each other.

Staring at her as they slipped into the shower, he fondly recalled the first time Emma approached him between sets at a weekend gig. He remembered looking around to see who hired the beautiful woman to come on to him. She was way too young and way too beautiful to be real. Her look was flawless, just like you’d see in magazines. People referred to her look as a New York Ten. He just assumed she was a pro. No way anyone this gorgeous could be talking to him. Everything about her said high-class call girl.

As they talked between the band’s set, Jack realized that she was for real. And when he asked her if she wanted to go get coffee after the band finished their show, he was shocked that she smiled and eagerly said yes. After sitting down in a Starbucks, she shared her past.

“Yeah, I know what you were thinking. I have that high-class whore look about me with too much hair and makeup, and trendy clothes with a push-up bra. But truthfully, I just finished working and was itchy just to get out and breathe cool air. Working under ring lights and in front of a camera gets me all heated up. I wanted to let off some steam before I soaked myself in a hot bath and played with my vibrator. I’d seen the poster where you were playing tonight, and it was only a short walk from where I live. So I sat at the bar and listened to your first set. I’ve got to tell you that you and those guys were great. And your guitar work and voice are truly amazing. I forgot my troubles and wanted to lose myself in the music.”

Jack was grinning. First of all, the woman he was talking with couldn’t have been thirty, probably closer to twenty-five. She was a natural redhead, beautiful from head to toe. Jack knew she was too classy to be out with him. He recognized her outfit and bag as being expensive designer products.

His last girlfriend, Melody, craved that kind of materialistic stuff that he could never afford. Jack had figured that Melody would leave him when she found a guy who’d cover her spending habits. He was surprised when it turned out to be an older woman. However, she seemed happy with her new love and acquired all the material goods she desired. From then on, he needed to warn whoever he dated that he was not a catch.

Jack had stared for a while and realized that she had blue eyes, not green. He wondered just how rare that was for a redhead. In the meantime, he was trying to concentrate on what she was saying.

Emma laughed in his face. “You know, Jack. I wish I could read your mind. Your eyes have undressed me at least twice, and I wonder what you’re thinking.” She sighed. “Maybe we should just fuck and get it out of the way. Then I could get you to listen.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. She’d nailed him and had him right between her crosshairs. “Okay, Emma. I confess that I’m guilty on all counts. You are mesmerizing me with your beauty. I admit I have a weakness for gorgeous redheads. But give me a chance to try again.”

“Okay, Jack. I’m going to give you a break because these are not my everyday clothes. I dressed to work and didn’t feel like changing tonight. I knew if I undressed, washed my face, and pulled my hair back in a pony, I’d just climb into bed. So what you see is what you get.”

“Oh, please don’t get me wrong, Emma. I love what I see. It’s just that there’s at least a ten-year difference in our ages, and my low self-esteem asks me why you’re sitting here with me.”

“Jack, I know that you’re thirty-eight from your online bio. So there’s a ten-year difference in our ages. And as far as your self-esteem goes, I think that you’re ruggedly handsome. Hearing you sing and play sealed the deal for me. If you were to lead me to your place, I would fuck your brains out until the sun came up. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I need to tell you my story. Not many guys stick around after they hear me out.”

Jack nodded, got up, then asked the barista for refills. When he returned, he settled himself in, promising himself to keep his eyes on her face while she talked. But, oh my God, she was an eyeful. Everyone who walked into Starbucks was tripping over their feet, staring at her.

“First, I’m a country girl. I’m not a city kitty. Grew up on the plains near the mountains and did the usual stuff in high school. But the guys were only interested in fly fishing and wearing plaid. I became a psychology major at Montana State and loved it. But after graduating, I became disillusioned when I realized I’d need six more years of school before I could become a psychologist.

“I decided to capitalize on my appearance and began working at Hooters in Bozeman. Mom and Dad thought it was funny and would never last. They were right. I got tired of guys who couldn’t stop grabbing my ass.”

“A woman I worked with suggested I create a MyFans page. She offered to show me the ropes. I was twenty-one. I had a bachelor’s degree and no direction. So each day, I’d turn on the camera and the ring light. I’d broadcast to anyone who wanted to subscribe to my channel. I never did anything exciting or titillating. My big thing was changing my lingerie. That was my big expense. While I put on and took off different lingerie, I chatted with the men who had paid to watch me. I made myself a promise not to pander myself for fame and fortune. Sure, everyone who paid got to see me in my birthday suit as I slipped on a change of underwear. But it was just like changing clothes, normal stuff, no titillation.”

Jack listened as she shared her story. He really wanted to watch her channel to see how she handled herself.

“My fan base grew even though I was a good girl. I realized there were a lot of men who really just wanted to talk. I was a good listener. I never talked dirty or suggestively. I wasn’t a tease but just honestly listened and expressed my opinion. I was finally doing my counseling thing and loved it. Of course, getting naked and putting on panties kept them coming back. It was strange to have guys buying subscriptions to talk to a girl in her underwear.”

Jack wondered what Emma would look like naked.

“I quit my waitressing job and lived off the income I was earning online. I was making a couple of thousand dollars a month and had a lot of free time.”

Jack tried to listen, but his brain was spinning out. He wanted to come right out and ask her if she did adult films and the whole porno bit, but wanted to hear her entire story first. He nodded for her to continue.

“My audience was made up of young and middle-aged men who seemed to suffer from social and sexual dysfunction. Sure, they got to see my body while I was changing from a lacy black outfit with seamed stockings and a bustier to a white lacy push-up bra and a tiny thong. I figured that was part of my attraction. The other part was that I was willing to listen and talk to these guys. They sensed that I was treating them with love and honesty.”

“I know it sounds hard to believe, but I never used dildos or did any pussy play. Honestly, it was more show-and-tell than titillation. I pictured myself as the girl next door that you’d be peeking through her curtains to see. I never figured that there was a market for what I was offering, but I was making money. Someone in the business told me I was counseling. One of my biggest donors said I was a lot cheaper than paying a counselor or a sex therapist.”

She grinned. “And that’s when I decided to go back to school. I took my classes, got my Master's, and became a registered sex therapist.”

Jack was listening. “What happened then? Did you quit?”

“Actually, after my coursework, I was able to practice what I’d learned and make money on my MyFan page. I enjoyed being in control.”

Jack nodded his head and smiled. “I’m sure you got lots of offers from all the hardcore studios. How come you were never tempted to do that stuff?”

“Sure, I got plenty of offers. I was even offered a deal from a sugar daddy where I’d retire and move in with him. But I have an independent streak and love being my own boss. Even on my site, I’d get offers for private nudie shows and turn them down. All my private time was spent counseling guys so they could tell me more and I could help them, too. And yes, some adult film studios bugged me to try it out. But after my bank account grew, it was easy to keep my virtue and smile.”

Jack looked at her. “Using my calculations, you’ve been doing this for seven years. Don’t you get tired or frustrated?”

Emma smiled. “It’s very strange. All of the sex discussions get my motor going. I’ve taken lots of warm bubble baths over the years. I’ve had a couple of boyfriends, but when they start acting like they own me, it’s over. I appreciate my life and the freedom it offers. I like to be in charge.”

Jack looked at her and smiled. “C’mon with me back to my apartment. We can talk some more.”

Emma smiled, stood up, and squeezed his hand. “Honey, I hope we can do more than talk.”
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