Un2talented (Book 3 of the Un2 Series)

The motel was a showcase decades ago and continued to be well maintained. The front office, a stand-alone cottage that sat beneath a neon sign worthy of the Las Vegas strip, anchored a small landscaped garden containing a picnic table and some newly repainted playground equipment. A heated pool surrounded by a cement walkway bridged the area between the office and the two-story structure behind it. Pets were welcome as long as their owners cleaned up after them.

The office’s interior was decked out with the same furniture as when the motel first opened. Design trends had come full circle making the retro-looking mini-resort trendy once again. The only clue to the current date was the twenty-something clerk linked to his laptop via a pair of earbuds, his feet propped up on the front desk.

Dorian’s overnight shift had been uneventful. One new guest had checked in, two if you count the guy’s dog. He drove one of those old cars that some thought of as trucks, an El Camino, or something like that. He took the first-floor room farthest from the office; the only room obscured from his view by the decorative hews that separated the parking lot from the driveway. An old-school custom van sporting an elaborate airbrushed mural pulled in alongside him. Dorian assumed they were together but didn’t know for sure. As long as they didn’t trash the room he really didn’t care.

Daybreak was approaching, which meant two things; his shift was nearly over, and more importantly, Cadence was about to begin hers.

Cadence was the type of woman that was impossible to categorize. She was pretty and she knew it but viewed it as a hindrance. It bothered her that getting people to take her seriously was a challenge and that in these enlightened times that beauty and brains were still considered mutually exclusive. She didn’t have that problem with Dorian. He and Cadence had spent most of their lives together. Both of their moms were raising kids on their own. Dorian’s mom worked days, Cadence’s worked nights. The toddlers could be found in apartments on the second or third floors, depending on the time of day. They shared bedrooms. They shared toys. They shared baths, each in a bowl of the kitchen sink (a fact they would use to tease each other now that they were adults). And now they shared an apartment, a place of employment, and an insatiable passion for music.

Cadence had an impeccable sense of rhythm that presented itself when she was still a bun in the oven. Her mother swears that the heartbeat monitor during her delivery kept perfect time with the music being piped in through the speakers in her room. If not for a pocket thesaurus, she would have been named Tempo.

Dorian shared Cadence’s love for music with equal zeal. Unfortunately, his passion for performing far exceeded his abilities. He insisted he would get better with practice. Practicing seemed to be making things worse. That didn’t stop Cadence’s words of encouragement.

“Hey, Dor, how’s the new song comin’?” she said as she swept his Chuck Taylors from the desktop.

He popped an earbud loose and let it dangle in front of him. “Nothing Auto-tune can’t fix.”

Cadence threw him a look, which was exactly the response he was expecting.

“I’m kidding!”

“Damn straight, you’re kidding! I’d rather hear your honest vocals than some robo-nasal version.”

“And by ‘honest’ you mean. . .”

“Off-key.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I mean, really off-key.”

“Thanks. I get it.”

“Really, really. . .”

“Enough, already! Jeez!”

The two laughed.

“So, buddy, oh pal o’ mine,” Cadence started, “I need a little favor.”

“Sure.”

“I need you to work my shift today. I wouldn’t ask, but there’s a good reason.”

“Okay. What’s up?”

“Remember how I told you about that guy that knows a guy that’s a roadie for DeLeon, that hair band rocker from the eighties?”

“Not really, but, go on.” Dorian shrugged.

“Okay, so he said that they are hiring on staff at DeLeon’s mansion ’cause they’re turning it into an east coast version of Graceland and he can get me in to meet DeLeon and get me a job. It opens a door to the music business, albeit a back door, but it is a door and I need to at least try to go through it.”

“I don’t know. . .” Dorian posed in a pondering-type pose and tapped his chin.

“Please!” Cadence pouted an exaggerated pout, knowing what his answer would be.

“I’ll do it under one condition. Bring me back a souvenir. Something cool.”

“Of course!” Cadence grabbed him and gave him a great big hug and a peck on the cheek. “You’re the best!”

“Yeah, I am. What kind of job is it?”

“Hospitality. Basically what I do here, but with a washed-up rockstar instead of a wanna-be rock star.”

“Hey!” Dorian objected. “I’ll be a washed-up rockstar one day!”

“I know. You’ll be a washed-up has-been in the blink of an eye! A one-hit wonder at best!” Cadence stuck her tongue out.

“Don’t stick that thing out at me unless you intend to use it!” Dorian mocked.

Cadence moved closer, contorting her maw in an exaggerated kiss. She brought her mouth close to Dorian’s then abruptly shifted direction and licked the side of his face.

“Ew, gross!” Dorian exclaimed, pretending not to like the face-lick. “Take your slobber up to G’s room and tell her that I’m taking your shift. Let me know if she had anything special she wanted you to handle today or if she just wants me to do the usuals.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back!”

She gave him another “thank you” hug and exited through the back door. Dorian watched her walk past the pool, up the stairs to the second-floor balcony, and across the length of the building to G’s room.