Tracy

019:

               

"Tracy! Tracy, over here!" A youngish man with a rogue grin, instant eager expression, darkish blonde hair hanging in his eyes, so that he had to continually brush it back, stuck out his hand for her. She pursed her lips, trying to decide whether to acknowledge him or not. He brought up his camera-- not even looking in the viewfinder and started snapping away. He had come at her from an angle, trapping her up against a table containing a life size platinum replica of her father's new release record, and the receiving line. She turned and gave him her not so celebrity trained smile.

"Marc Shepherd!" He leaned in for a hug. Her history with Marc went way back. He was a couple of years older than her, and had just been starting out in his chosen profession as a music journalist and photographer when Pepper's was heating up. She'd been thirteen and gullible and had let him take pictures of her exclusively whenever he asked, and he followed her around and asked all the time. Marc Shepherd had literally single-handedly photo documented her teens.

His hug was crushing, like him. His hand rode her backless gown far too familiarly, and she recalled the last time they'd been in the same room he'd definitely made a pass at her. She had far too much experience of him to not know he was a playboy rocker photographer and he would take advantage of her if he could. But he was a nice playboy.

Since the early days of Pepper's, he'd been a familiar face. She could do no less for him than call him good friend.

"Come to take more doggie pile pics?"

"God, if you'll let me! Let's doggie pile tonight after the gig! I'm in. I saw Jules and Bridge. Where are you guys staying? Let's party!" Those kind of pictures would catapult his career the way the original Pepper's doggie pile pictures had once made him one of the most sought after young music photo journalists in the industry. He kissed her cheek, with far too familiar a hand against her bare back, and she pulled away.

"You're a scoundrel." She said gently, but pushed him back. "We're staying behind closed doors at my dad's estate. Are you kidding?"

"What? No private invitation? No doggie piles?" In his own way, he never failed to mention the doggie piles, but Tracy had always known that it was his way of saying thank you. Without those photos, Marc Shepherd would still be shooting bands like Jaded, instead of ReedTone reunions and releases, and possible Pepper's reunions.

"Right. No doggie piles. Maybe someday. Not today." She patted his downcast cheek, knowing the drama didn't reach his seductive eyes, and returned to her father's side, as he shook hands with some of the music industry's finest.

It wasn't long before the night was rolling. Shawna had brought a nanny for Andrew and the girls and insisted that she take Danny with them to a room they'd secured just for the evening, with toys and a trampoline and swimming until the party was over. Even eighteen year old Tiffany decided to head out for that kind of party.

Jaded wasn't the only band to have been blessed with the opportunity to play the release party. Several young budding artists were in attendance: Rushing Galaxy, Constant Impact, The Allison Seivert Connection. But the room hushed and the dancing stopped mid-move on the dance floor when Ray, Trask and Duncan took the stage.

Appropriate words were said. Julian was brought up and asked to play guitar as they honored his dad, by playing a number of the ReedTones hits. It was poignant, and intense and profound. Tracy saw Marc Shepherd up there with the best of them, front and center capturing these unprecedented moments. It was as close as they'd ever come to a ReedTones reunion. There was a bittersweet atmosphere in the room, until Ray and Trask collaborated on their new song: Hands off My Liberty.