CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Epilogue
" okay to admit if you're lost," I said.
Ford scowled and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. I'd never seen him so tense on a road trip. He pushed the accelerator down and seemed determined to beat the clouds to the horizon.
"I'm not lost, I'm just trying to find something special," Ford said between clenched teeth.
"Hey," I joked, "I thought I was your something special."
Ford's jaw relaxed a little. "You're something else, that's for sure. I was just hoping to catch a good sunset before we have to get back to town. Hang on!" He pulled hard on the wheel and we skidded into the gravel parking lot of a scenic overlook.
I laughed. "This is the same exact overlook you brought me to two years ago. Remember? We finally left on our first road trip and we stopped here to enjoy the sunset."
Ford leaned back in the driver's seat and shrugged. "Really? I can't quite remember. That was two years and two dozen adventures ago."
"Come on, was the book tour really that bad?" I asked.
"Twelve cities in ten days? No." He reached over and squeezed my knee. "I loved every minute of it."
"You're just anxious to get back to The Mirror and dive back into work," I concluded. "I get it. When you find the work you love, it's hard to be away from it."
"I think people say that about people more often than work," Ford chuckled.
"So, I'm ambitious. I thought you loved that about me. Besides, I'm not the one under deadline at the moment. Don't you have the first fall publication due out at the end of the week?" I asked.
Ford shifted in his car seat and smiled softly at me. "That's right. It's almost Thanksgiving. It's almost exactly the day that I first met you."
I grinned. "Remember what we talked about?"
"I remember you telling me about the headline game you liked to play. How about this one: Couple Misses Stunning Sunset, Stuck in Car."
I laughed and reached for my door handle. Ford jumped out and ran around to open the car door for me. "Here's one for you: Exhausted Editor Fills Empty Spaces with Headlines."
Ford laughed and pulled me out to the scenic overlook. The sun was still warm as it nudged against the horizon. Still, there was chill sent to the air that meant autumn was on its way. It was my favorite season, especially when Thanksgiving was only a few weeks away.
"Did I tell you that my father and Polly will be home from Cuba in time for Thanksgiving?" I asked.
"I know, your father mentioned it when I talked to him the other day." Ford popped his mouth shut and admired the sunset with a sudden keen interest.
"Oh, no, what are you and my father planning now?" I asked. "I can just imagine the headline: Men Plan Elaborate Feast, Use Every Dish in the Kitchen."
I laughed at my own joke and turned, but Ford was gone.
He was down on one knee. The sky streaked with reds and golds as he reached for my hand. "I have one last headline for you: Will you marry me?"
I dropped to my knees and kissed Ford a dozen times over before I took a breath and said, "Yes. And you can quote me on that."
ROCK STAR BILLIONAIRE
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 Claire Adams
CHAPTER ONE
Owen
hadn’t felt that energized in a long time. Nothing compared to the feeling of pouring my heart and soul into a microphone with my band. And tonight, I was feeling adrenaline I hadn’t felt since the early days when we were still unknown teenagers playing dive bars and practicing in the garage. Why? Because something was about to happen that hadn’t happened in over five years. Something I had missed terribly, but hadn’t realized just how much until the very moment I was standing there with the mic in hand and the guys playing behind me.
“I can’t believe we are actually doing this, Owen! Bleeding Heart, finally back together.” My younger brother Talon beamed at me, pushing his blond hair out of his face. He twirled one of his drumsticks with stylish flair as he sat behind his old drum set.
“And, we actually don’t sound half bad for being so out of practice,” Jeremiah, my best friend and lead guitarist, added. “I’m just shocked we got you out of the office,” he added, looking directly at me. “You've been wearing a suit and tie for so long now, I was wondering if you even knew how to slip into those ripped-up jeans anymore.”
I laughed and shook my head. “What can I say, man? The record company has been keeping me pretty damned busy. You know how crazy this business is, and when you get to the top, you really start to understand just how hard you have to work to stay there.”
“Right, right,” Jeremiah piped in. “We get it, but we’ve been talking about coming out of hibernation for the last three years, and it's only happening now. I'm not trying to bitch about it, but, hell, aside from Talon, most of us have barely even seen you. Still, it's great, dude, it's really great to have you back where you belong. You might be a billionaire record mogul now, but being on stage in front of that mic is where you truly belong. It's where you've always belonged, and you know it.” Jeremiah slapped a heavy hand on my shoulder as the other guys nodded in agreement.
It was true. I did tend to get lost in my work, but I couldn’t help it. Especially, when my record company Young Productions had still been in its infancy. My dedication had paid off, though, because I’d managed to bring the company from a small, indie label to a billion-dollar up-and-coming monster of a label that was constantly churning out hot new talent and Billboard Top 40 hits.
Still, telling my band mates that didn’t make a difference when I had continuously promised that I’d get back behind the mic — a promise I’d made a long while ago and had taken years to fulfill. All they wanted was for me to keep my word so we could get back in the studio and on the road. I’d heard from each of them over the years, including our other guitarist Jay, and our bassist Nate, but ultimately, it had been Talon that had convinced me to make good on my promise.
“So, we going to play the new song you sent out or what? Give it a whirl?” Talon waggled an eager eyebrow at me as he continued twirling his sticks impatiently.
When I'd finally made the decision that we should get together, I’d sent out a new song I'd written to each of them. After being inspired by my brother’s struggle with drugs, I wrote the music and lyrics in just a couple of days, then attached it to an email and sent it out to everyone along with the note telling them it was time we got the band back together. Naturally, everyone was pumped to try the new song since they’d all been waiting on me for years.
Talon was especially pumped. He was a good kid, and one of the best drummers in the business, but he had gotten into some bad stuff for a while there. He had a nature that was easily tempted.
I nodded at Talon, smiling. “Yeah, man; let’s do it.”
Nate started on the bass, strumming the first few measures as we all took in the beat, then Jay and Jeremiah came in on guitar before my brother hit it on the drums. I couldn't help but beam out an ear-to-ear grin. Hearing my newest creation coming to life with the guys I’d always been close to, despite the time and distance away from each other, was a sensation words truly couldn't describe.
When I came in on the vocals, all the pieces finally came together as one and it sounded as good as it felt. Granted, it was different from our old stuff, but despite this, it still remained true to the heart of our sound. I could feel everyone’s energy merging, and the song started coming together even better than when I had imagined as I was writing it. Some people have different views on what heaven might be like, but at that moment, right there, playing with the band is what it felt like for me.
I looked back at my brother during one of the guitar solos. He had a wild grin on his face as he slammed on the drums, his hair flipping around. He winked at me and nodded. This is some good shit right here, that look said.
My smile widened as I went into the next verse and my energy rose. Playing was such an adrenaline rush for all of us, not just me, and it had been since we had started the band as teenagers. We'd always been in it for the thrill of the music, for the intensity of it, for our shared devotion to the beauty and power of what music could do for the soul. You could just see it in the movements and in the strumming of guitars, in the booming of the bass, in the pounding of the drums. Yes, this was it. We really were back together — maybe even for good this time.
“Hell yeah! Owen, you need to write more new stuff. That was sick as shit!” Talon announced after the last few thumps and the final cymbal crashes on the drums.
“Yeah, well, you make a good muse on occasion, little bro,” I winked at him.
“Well, I can be a bit a…musing.” He flashed me a sly, cheesy grin and followed it up with a quick drum roll and a cymbal crash.
“Jackass,” Jay snorted, chuckling. Aside from being one of the guitarists, Jay and Talon were best friends, always on each other’s asses with snarky and idiotic jokes flying back and forth.
“Whatever, man, you love my ass. Just like the ladies.” Talon flipped sweaty strands of hair out of his face, his green eyes glowing with mischief. “Speaking of ladies, when are we going to get this tour on the road? You said you had our first gig set up in a month, right?”
“Yep, Tal. One month exactly. Then it's on.”
“Hell yeah, man. I’m pumped as shit, seriously pumped!” He was practically bouncing on his stool with excitement. “Open road, tour bus, shows…and chicks, oh yeah, chicks. Can’t forget about that, no, no, no, we cannot forget about them girls.”
There was a collective eye roll amongst the rest of us. Sometimes it seemed as if my brother seriously had a one track mind. “Just as long as you don’t forget we are in this to play music. You're not on this tour for the sole purpose of fucking your way across the country from coast to coast,” I said. “This is about the music and our fans.”
“Why not both? I can’t help it if ladies love the ‘D.’”
“And there he goes about his dick. I was wondering how soon it would be before that would come up,” Jay shook his head, laughing.
Talon’s eyes narrowed into mischievous slits. “That’s exactly what she said, man.”
“Damn it, Tal,” Jeremiah choked on his beer as the rest of us broke into laughter.
My brother and I were complete opposites. He was outspoken, loud, crude, and ridiculous, while I was more of the stereotypical quiet type, only a bit more intense and definitely a lot more focused. I was the one always keeping the business in mind in addition to the music. It was probably why he got laid more often than any of us on tour the first go around, though. All he cared about was banging the drums, then banging chicks. As long as it kept him happy and off the drugs, we were okay with it. After all, it could have been worse. Indeed, there had been many times when it had been worse...a lot worse.
“So, speaking of touring – and leaving the topic of groupies alone for a bit,” I gave my brother a sideways glance that told him we needed to get down to business. “We have a lot to do before we kick off the tour. I mean, first and foremost, we have to rehearse our asses off. We have a reputation as a band to uphold, and our fans will not be satisfied with second rate, sloppy performances. We have to be tight as shit. We didn't get to the top by messing around and being lazy, so this is no time to start with that shit.
“We have to practice more of the newer songs as well as our old stuff, of course, but there’s also bookings, accommodations, updated gear for the road, promotion, travel plans, sponsors. I mean, we've a few people on that stuff, but we need to go over all those details ourselves as well, just to make sure everything is perfect.”
The others nodded, but not one of the assholes was taking notes. Before, they had relied on me to take care of most of those things, if not all of them. And, I hadn't minded so much, seeing as I had always been a bit of a workaholic. But, unlike before, I now had a Titanic-size business to run on top of everything else. I just couldn’t afford to do it all by myself again; not if I wanted to sleep more than an hour every night. That was part of the reason I’d gotten burnt out on touring last time.
“How about we do this? Each one of you takes responsibility for a couple of the tasks I've just mentioned, and we can all get that stuff knocked out together,” I suggested. “It'll just be easier, more streamlined, and more efficient like that, and everyone is pulling their weight equally. That's fair, right?”
Grumbles of dissent circled the group along with flimsy excuses. I sighed and couldn't help the sting of anger and frustration bubbling in my core. They surely knew I couldn’t do all of it by myself again. Didn’t they?
“That’s funny, Owe. You think the rest of us are responsible enough to help manage a tour?” Talon cocked his eyebrow, then hit a “da dum tiss” on the drums and hi-hat.
I gave him, and the rest of them, a stone cold look. “Seriously? You wanna joke about this? You guys all know I can’t handle all of that planning on top of running the record company while we’re touring. It's just physically impossible. Not to mention mentally. I’d lose it. There aren't enough hours in the day. Literally.”
“I know, Mr. Young CEO Slash Rock Star. Sounds like you need another solution aside from depending on us slackers, huh? C'mon, bro, you know us. We're, uh...well, we're just not cut out for that type of shit, you know? I'm good at banging — chicks and drums, mind you — but that's about all I’ve got to bring to the table,” Tal said.
I sighed again, always wary of any solution he came up with. “What exactly do you have in mind, there, little brother?”
“They are called assistants. Ever heard of 'em? Seriously, dude, they not only do all the grunt work, but they also bring you coffee and snacks, and, oh yeah, they generally have really nice asses to look at as they are running off to get your shit done.”
Of course, his solution had to do with bringing a woman into the mix. I wasn't even the least bit surprised. Still, it was a solution worth considering. “I don’t know, man. And why do you just assume I would have to hire a woman? Why can’t we get a male assistant?”
“Um, first off, total sausage fest. There are enough swinging dicks in this room already. I think some feminine company on the road could help keep things in line. Secondly, they just smell better. Plus, they’re just more fun to look at.”
I frowned at him, but I had to admit that he did have a point in terms of getting an assistant. Not necessarily the other stuff, of course. It didn't have to be a woman, and even if it was, it didn't have to be an attractive one. No – efficiency and reliability were my top priorities in that regard. But yeah, getting an assistant in on the mix really could help to make things go a lot more smoothly for sure.
But at the same time, I hated bringing a stranger into the mix, and a woman at that. There was already the possibility that complications could arise with the band, as they had in times past, and I certainly didn’t want any sort of tension to get between us by adding a new element to the mix.
However, there was absolutely no way I could handle managing the tour all by myself. Not even a chance. And with these bozos not being able to do pretty much anything aside from play their instruments and rock out, it was quickly beginning to look like I'd have no other option but to hire somebody, as much as I wasn’t sold on the idea of someone outside our circle handling some of the load. Sometimes, the only solution was the uncomfortable one, and it really didn't seem like there'd be any other way to do this.
I sighed and shrugged my shoulders, conceding to the idea. “Screw it; I guess I’ll make a few calls, see what’s out there. I have a business contact that has a staffing services agency that can probably hook us up,” I said.
“Why don’t you give him a call this afternoon, before we start partying at your place tonight?” Jeremiah suggested.
I supposed there was no time like the present to get the ball rolling.
“Yeah, I think I’ll do that. And no, Tal, we are not getting some groupie-wannabe tour manager just for you to play with. I’m finding someone professional, reliable, organized, and detail-oriented. And if she happens to look like the rear end of a donkey, so be it.
“And before you ask why... It’s so that, as you said in your own words, she can keep you assholes in line. I’m not playing road mom, not again, not this time. Without someone focused and disciplined to hold everything together, this whole thing is gonna fall apart. I refuse to let that happen. Not on my watch. We are not going to disappoint millions of fans out there, not if we can help it. And, you guys better remember that.”
“Road mom,” Talon snorted. “You were kinda like that last time. I remember you having to hold Jay’s hair more than a few times while he puked his guts out. My apologies for being too busy puking in the shower to help.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “You two together are like drunken Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb.”
Both of their grins only widened at my comparison. Those two had way too many stories from the road before and would no doubt get their asses into some more trouble this go around. I just hoped, for our sake, this time it wouldn't require any bail money. I'd had enough of postponing gigs because of having to haul those two out of jail cells.
“All right, enough goofing off. Let’s work through a few more songs before we break. We can start with the one Jeremiah wrote.” I tried to bring things back to order.
The others grumbled, albeit jokingly, and we all got back to business mode. We worked through five more songs before calling it quits, then I excused myself and headed to my home office to make that call regarding a tour manager. The phone only rang a few times before a familiar voice picked up.
“Hey, Mike,” I greeted him. “I need your help with something.”
“Owen, good to hear from you, man! Hit me – what do you need?” he asked from the other end of the receiver.
“I need an assistant. Preferably female,” I explained, rattling off the long list of my own qualifications and even a couple Jeremiah had suggested.
I tended to be picky when it came to hiring people to work with in any capacity. I liked to think that was one of the main reasons I’d become so successful. My high expectations made me careful in choosing who to do business with and who I hired to help me run my record company.
“I think I can help you out. I have a few ladies in mind who'd fit your bill. When did you want to set up interviews?” Mike asked after taking in my laundry list of needs.
“How does Monday afternoon sound? Think you can get some candidates together over the weekend?” It was a lot to ask, but I was confident Mike could do it. He’d found me some great talent to work at the record label before on short notice. I’d never worried about him delivering.
“Of course, man. Don’t even sweat it.”
“Perfect. Thanks so much,” I told him. “I’m so ready to get back on tour, but not quite willing to deal with every single aspect of it by myself again. I mean, I really just can't, there is simply way too much to do. And, as usual, the others are not the planning, organized types,” I said just as a belch and laughter came from the other room with perfect timing. I shook my head.
Mike laughed on the other end. “Totally understand. And, you gotta keep those assholes in line, too. Especially that brother of yours and his sidekick. Instigators — that’s what the two of them are. But don't you worry about the admin side of things. I'll find you the perfect person to keep everything under control while you guys do what you do best: rock people's socks off.”
“Exactly. Thanks again, Mike. I really appreciate it. I’ll talk to you later,” I laughed and hung up the phone. He had heard most of the stories from the road during our first stint and knew exactly what I was talking about. And I’m sure having done this before, finding touring assistants for other bands, he knew exactly what to look for.
Still, I couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive. While touring with just dudes sometimes stunk, quite literally, I didn’t want to find myself feeling self-conscious or distracted by a woman during the whole tour. And I certainly didn't want anyone else getting distracted for that matter. Things had to be damn near close to perfect this time around. This was our big comeback tour, and I didn't want anyone to blow it.
CHAPTER TWO
Nalia
“, could you pass me a wine cooler?” Grace, my best friend, asked while reaching out a hand and looking over her sunglasses at me with a smile. It was a beautiful day at the beach and we were there to just lounge and enjoy it — a rare day of just taking in the relaxing atmosphere. I loved San Diego enough to live there, but that didn’t seem to be in the cards. You need more money than I made to be able to afford it. Still, they had the best beaches.
Grace and I had driven down for the day just to relax on the sand, catch a few rays, and listen to the waves. The whole day had been organized and paid for by Grace, since I was currently out of a job. Did I mention she’s my absolute best friend in the world? Without her offering to take care of it, I wouldn’t have been able to come with her today, and I was more than thankful for her generosity.
“Here, you lush,” I teased, handing her a cold bottle. Money had, unfortunately, been scarce since I had been laid off from my position as a personal assistant for powerful CEO. I suppose when a company is going under, the assistants are the first to go. And, in my case, they had let go of me pretty quickly. I didn’t necessarily miss the stressful job and crazy hours, but I was sure missing my paycheck.
I'd been hunting for another job for quite some time, and Grace knew I needed a break from the stress of finding another job. According to her, I was turning into a grouchy bitch and needed a little fun in my life – and she was probably pretty spot on about that. My severance pay had finally dried up, and that meant it was time to get super serious about another job or start panicking, whichever kicked in first. If you asked Grace about which was hitting me at the moment, she’d have said panic for sure.
“You okay?” she glanced at me over her sunglasses again, giving me a look that just dared me to lie.
“Just…wish my music would take off or something. I’m completely broke. Like seriously, I've barely got two pennies to rub together.”
“What you need is a job. Like, ASAP, girl.” She took a sip of her wine cooler and nodded for me to pick up one. I grabbed a bottle and popped it open, taking a sip.
“I don’t want another job like the last one. I swear, my hair started thinning from the stress…and my waist did the opposite. Hell, I have only just managed to get back into my skinny jeans after all the Häagen-Dazs therapy I went through while working for that asshole. I honestly don't think I can do that again. Not like last time. It'll kill me for sure.”
This time, Grace took off her sunglasses, looking me in the eyes. She meant business. Crap.
“Look, I know you’re an amazing musician and you seriously have the voice of an angel, but it’s still really hard to get noticed, even with how exceptional you are. There's just so much competition out there, it's honestly more a matter of blind luck than anything else. And I know...I KNOW you have been trying with open mic and booking small, crappy-paying gigs, but you need to seriously consider a regular job for now.
“I know it breaks your heart to think about it, but we have to be realistic about this. I don't wanna see my best friend lose everything she’s worked so hard for and have to sell off all her possessions on eBay just to put food on the table and keep a roof over her head. Because we both know you won’t let me help you out in the money department like that.”
My head fell back against my rolled up towel. I knew she was right, unfortunately. Breaking into the music business was not for the faint of heart. It was a lot of work with very little payoff, unless you got very lucky, and currently, luck was certainly not something I could count on. It would happen if it happened, but there was a far greater chance of that not being the case. I would probably have had better luck gambling with slot machines in Vegas, to be honest. As it stood, I was desperately lacking in the luck department.
“I just don’t know what to look for. I’ve always done the personal assistant thing, but it just gets so stressful, and I want to do something that will actually help my music career, not take me farther and farther away from my music like the last job did. It kills me to do stuff that forces me to put my music on the backburner.”
Grace emitted a thoughtful “hmm” before taking another sip from her wine cooler. “You know, you could maybe try to find a job at a record label. I mean, they hire office people. Or find a job as a roadie or tour assistant for a band or something, since you love music. There are ways to have a real job while keeping music in the foreground, and that way you might actually meet some people and make some connections who could help you get a foot in the door.”
“I’m not lugging speakers.”
“No, not that kind of roadie! I mean, some bands and musicians need someone to organize all the admin aspects of their tours – and believe me, there's a lot. You remember when I was dating that drummer from the heavy metal band? I mean, they weren't that popular, but even on their tour there was a mountain of tasks to get through just to get everything organized. Musicians need reliable, disciplined people who are good organizers – and with your planning superpowers and OCD organization skills, I could totally see you doing that. Not to mention, like I said, that might just put you in good with some people in the music business.”
I weighed her words, and, to be honest, it didn't seem like a terrible idea. “But how exactly am I going to do that?”
“Um, hello? I’ve been trying to get you to talk to the people at the staffing agency I used to work with for how long now? They are usually looking for office help or personal assistants for things like what I've just been telling you about. I could help you get in to see the right people.”
“Really? That would be amazing!” I suddenly felt a little more excited at the prospect of getting a new job. “Do you know of any bands that are looking?”
“Well, according to what Sheila told me, Bleeding Heart is getting prepped for going on tour in a month. I think she said something about Mike asking her if she’d be interested in some kind of position for the tour. I just can’t remember exactly what she said. You know I tune her out half the time.”
“Bleeding Heart?” I raised an eyebrow. The name didn’t sound familiar to me.
“Oh my God, Nalia, how have you not heard of them?” Grace sat straight up, this time pushing her sunglasses up onto her head. “They’re an alternative rock band. Granted, they’ve been on hiatus for the last five years while the lead singer Owen Young was building his record company — which is hugely successful, by the way — so I suppose I can cut you a little slack there, but they were big while we were in college.
“You should seriously know who these guys are, though, especially considering that they are as easy on the eyes as they are on the ears! Man, I had such a crush on Talon, the drummer, when I was a freshman. He's super hot! And, like I said, their music is pretty awesome, too. From what I’ve heard, they've just got back together. I think I saw it announced on Twitter they’d be touring soon.”
“Wait, he also owns a record company?” I asked.
“Yeah, Young Records.”
Now that name I had heard of, at least by way of many big names they’d recently signed and new artists they had churned out. And the singer of this band ran that record company? That could prove to be a stroke of luck for sure if they were, in fact, looking for an assistant and I happened to fit the bill. Working with artists of his caliber was sure to net me some decent connections and help me get a foot in the door of the music industry. And then when I got that breakthrough, I wouldn't ever have to worry about being a personal assistant ever again.
“Are you able to find out if they actually are looking for help? Because if they are, I need that job. Like, desperately need it! I can't think of anything that would be more perfect for me!”
Grace shrugged nonchalantly, pushing her long, blonde hair over her shoulders. “It shouldn’t be a problem to find out. I got you, girlie. I’ll make a few calls when we get back. Now, you ready for some surfing?” She put her sunglasses down on the blanket with her phone and wrapped them up before she hopped up, grabbing her board as she did. I followed suit, grabbing my own board. We’d both loved surfing ever since we were little kids.
“Yes, definitely ready to catch a few waves,” I said, pulling my hair back into a ponytail. Both of us headed for the water. I sighed happily, optimistic for the first time in weeks as the water lapped over my feet and the sounds of crashing waves grew louder in my ears. One of my favorite places to be was in the ocean. I was with my best friend and the job prospect was looking a little brighter. Things were looking up.
Once we reached a certain point, we climbed on our boards and started paddling out. Grace smiled, looking over at me as she took note of the size of some of the approaching waves. It was a good day to be out. When we got out far enough, we turned around, waiting for a good wave. When one came, we caught it and rode it out back to shore. I tried to show off a little, but Grace showed me up, as usual. Of the two of us, she was the better surfer, though she didn’t look the part, being such a girlie girl.
She was the essence of what you’d expect a gorgeous actress to be — beautiful, with bright, blue eyes and a perfect figure. She was an actress on a daytime soap opera, and her character on the show was even girlier than she was in real life. I doubted most of her fans would be able to picture her riding waves. Growing up, on more than one occasion, we’d gotten some condescending comments from idiot surfer boys…that was, until they saw her actually surf.
“Again?” she called over, whipping her wet hair out of her face and adjusting her bikini. I nodded, and we turned around starting the journey all over again. We did this for a while until our muscles grew tired of paddling out. That’s when we headed back to shore to lay out in the sun a little more.
I laid my board in the sand, then dried off some before spraying a coat of sunscreen on. I tanned easily, rarely ever burning, so my skin had a nice, honey color, but sunscreen was still a priority as often as I was in the sun. Oddly enough, that was one thing my little, blonde waif of a friend envied about me. She had to practically bathe in sunscreen to keep from getting burnt. I pulled on the hair tie and let my long, brown hair free, trying to untangle some of the wet, wavy tresses.
“So, you really think that job could be a possibility?” I asked before I even situated myself back onto my towel. “More importantly, do you think touring with a bunch of dudes is even a good idea? I mean, you know what kind of reputation rock bands have with the way they treat women, especially when they're on tour.”
“Sure, why not? You’re professional; you can handle it. And while some of the guys in the band have a reputation – I can think of one especially – I think they're probably decent enough guys,” Grace said as she lay back on her blanket and replaced her sunglasses. “And, you can call and tell me all the fun stories from the road. I'm sure there'll be a ton of those.” She smiled at me.
“Humph. I might be a little scared to find those out myself…IF it happens,” I said, trying not to get my hopes up too high. But I couldn’t help daydreaming about it like other people daydreamed about winning the lottery. If this job existed, it was something I wanted.
“Just make sure to email me a copy of your resume, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Already on it,” I said, typing on my phone. “So what are the plans for the rest of the day, since you’re the one paying?”
“I’m thinking we catch a few more rays, grab a hotel to shower and get dolled up, then hit the clubs.”
“Nice. I should date you more often,” I joked.
CHAPTER THREE
Owen
and Talon lugged in several cases of beer. I sighed as I watched them sit them in a corner. I wasn’t much in the partying mood at the moment, but I was the one who’d said we could have a get together after our first practice, so I kept my mouth shut and didn't complain. I even forced a smile onto my face, hoping the others wouldn't notice just how put on it was.
Judging from the amount of beer they were bringing in and the number of cars already parked in my drive, I could tell it would be a bit more than an intimate get-together. A bunch of people I hadn’t invited had already arrived, and there I was, hanging out in the kitchen while all these strangers were drifting around my place. It was getting harder and harder to mask my annoyance.
“Here, have another cold one,” Talon insisted as he shoved a beer in my hand, no doubt seeing right through the expression on my face. “And lighten up some, bro. Seriously, you need to stop stressing about this. Things are going to come together with the tour. You already called your friend, we’ll get a hot tour assistant, and we’re going to rock. And, that's all you need to think about, man! Just like it was in the old days – rocking out until our ears bleed.”
I popped the cap off my beer — my third already — and took a sip, staring at my little brother with that shit-eating grin plastered across his face. I couldn’t help but smile myself. I loved seeing him so happy. Not to mention clean. He shot me a pleased-with-himself look and opened his own bottle, taking a generous sip. “To Bleeding Heart reuniting!” He held out his bottle, and I clinked mine against his.
“To Bleeding Heart. And you, Talon. I’m really proud of you, ya know,” I told him. He let out a “pfft” and waved his hand in dismissal. “No, seriously,” I persisted. “You kept your promise and got yourself clean, and in return, I kept my promise about the band. This is all because of you.”
“Quit getting all sappy on me.” He slapped my back and then rolled his eyes. “Oh, all right. You can have one sappy hug,” he said and gave me a hug. “Now, come on, have a drink and join in the party. Don't be a bore, sitting and chilling all on your lonesome here. You're the front man of the band, dude! People wanna see you.”
I followed him into the living room where more people than I even imagined were already hanging out. Jeremiah and Nate were perched in the center, jamming on their guitars for the guests. For the most part, it was a pretty mellow scene.
I polished off my beer and grabbed another before finding a spot to sit toward the back of the room. I always preferred to observe rather than to actively interact at these kinds of get-togethers, never being one to typically put myself in the mix. This was yet another way in which Talon and I were complete opposites. He’d already managed to wedge himself between two girls on one of the couches, both of them laughing and flirting with him.
If anyone could say he’d earned the title of ladies’ man, it was Talon. He had the rock star look down to a T, with his platinum hair, devilish green eyes, and thin but fit physique. I was a little thicker than him, taller and more muscular. Unlike him, though, I actually worked out and, to be honest, I rather enjoyed it. That's not something you'll hear many rock musicians say, but hey, I was never about fitting into the stereotype. Not to mention, in contrast to my little brother, my hair was also dark and short, with the exception of a little bit in the front I usually kept spiked up.
“Hey, Owen.” A couple of girls walked by me, eyeing me up and down, then giggling. I just nodded to be polite then shook my head as they disappeared. I may not have had a big ego, but I was used to girls checking me out or trying to flirt. It had been a total rush in the early days, but now that I was older and wiser, I'd really gotten over it for the most part.
Still, that did nothing to damper their enthusiasm, especially if they knew who I was and the amount of money I had rolling in. It didn’t bug me necessarily, but I did my best to keep my distance with women because of it. It seemed I never knew what their real reason for liking me was, and that was something that had gotten more and more important to me as the years had gone by.
I finished off my fourth beer then got up, heading for the kitchen to grab a couple more. I was feeling a bit better and it helped ease the pressure from some of the things that were constantly occupying my thoughts.
Two beers later, I was starting to feel pretty damn buzzed, and I certainly didn’t mind the feeling. It fogged out all the other thoughts and worries in my mind for the time being. I felt a lot more as if I was living in the moment rather than merely stressing about the future and forgetting about the present, which was, admittedly, something I was prone to doing.
“Owen, you going to come up and play something for us?” Jeremiah called across the room as I stood in the kitchen doorway and polished off my fourth beer. I waved him off, not in the mood to sing to a crowd of people. But Jeremiah didn’t give up that easily. “Aww. Come on. Grace us with the soothing sounds of Owen Young’s angelic vocals.”
I snorted. “I haven’t drunk enough yet.”
“Come off it, bro!” Talon chimed in, “You’ve performed in front of a lot more people without a drop of alcohol. Get your ass up there.” That’s when he started chanting my name so that it caught on, and within seconds, everyone in the room was chanting it, as well.
Finally, I conceded, blushing a little despite – or perhaps because of – the alcohol now flowing thick through my veins. I put down my beer and strode over to the area in front of my fireplace that Jeremiah and Nate had been occupying. I picked up my acoustic guitar, slipping the strap over my shoulder, and settling myself on the raised stone of the fireplace.
“Fine then,” I said, relenting with a smile. “This is a little something I’ve been working on,” I told them, then started strumming my guitar. I was pretty decent on guitar, but with Bleeding Heart, I had chosen to focus on singing and songwriting. Writing was a form of therapy for me.
I found myself strumming a song I’d written about love. Not that I’d really ever felt I’d been in love. But just the idea of it and what I imagined love would be or, at the very least, could be, somehow found its way into lyrics and a melody. It was a newer song, one I hadn’t shared with the guys yet since I didn’t feel like it was fully finished. Still, now seemed to be as good a time as any to break it out and see how people responded, since it was pretty different to the stuff I usually did with Bleeding Heart.
Everyone listened intently; even Talon quit his flirting long enough to listen. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the music as I sang, not even paying attention to the large group in the room, just getting lost in the melody. When I strummed the last few notes, I opened my eyes to see everyone sitting there quietly, staring at me with smiles of fascination and appreciation across their faces.
“Wooooo!” Talon called, breaking the silence. Everyone else erupted in appreciative cheers, as well. I blushed, waving my hand dismissively. I wasn’t great at taking compliments. It was an odd trait for a performer to have, but I did appreciate the positive feedback.
“All right, all right that’s it. I’m done.” I smiled and put my guitar back on its stand, getting up and heading for the kitchen as their cheers quieted.
“Hey, that was amazing.” A hand brushed my arm, and I turned around, another beer in my hand. A pretty blonde with big, blue eyes stood there smiling at me.
I blushed again. “Thanks.”
“My name’s Alicia, by the way.” She put out her hand, and I shook it.
“Owen…though, I’m guessing you might have already known that.” I smiled, feeling more than a little of the beer buzz now.
“I did,” she giggled and pushed her hair back, taking a sip of her cocktail. “I mean, you did just have your name chanted through the living room. So, what are you doing hiding out in the kitchen? Not much of the partying type?”
“I suppose not,” I laughed, looking her over as she leaned closer. “Not with a ton of people, anyway. I don’t know half the people the guys invited.”
“Oh, well, if it makes you feel better, neither do I. We could hang out in the kitchen, now that you know me,” she said with a wink. Alicia was definitely cute and had a nice figure, accentuated in a pink, baby doll dress that showed off some rather impressive cleavage. Her grin widened when she caught me looking.
Drunken idiot, I scolded myself, then smiled as if I hadn’t just been giving her the once over. She didn’t seem to mind.
“Sure, we could hang out in here,” I said, chugging back more beer. “But what do you want to do?”
She bit her lip, this time giving me the once over, not being vague about it at all. “Hmm, well, to be honest, I could think of more than a few things I'd like to do with you.”
“Oh, is that so?” I licked my bottom lip, more than a little amused with her flirting. “And just what might those things be?”
Without hesitation, she stood on her toes and pressed her lips to mine. “Something like that, maybe?” she said when she finally pulled away. Drunk and definitely more than a little bit horny, I pulled her back to me and kissed her, flicking my tongue against her lips.
“Or, maybe we could go upstairs,” I suggested, pressing her back against the counter. I normally wasn’t so bold, but I’d had just enough beer to lessen my inhibitions.
Alicia let out a soft moan against my lips, nodding, and I wasted no time in pulling her toward the stairs. We stopped a few times on the way up to my bedroom, kissing and groping. By the time I shoved my bedroom door open, she was already tugging off my shirt.
I lifted her up, letting my hands slide under the skirt of her dress and over her ass, giving it a gentle squeeze as I did. She cupped my face, kissing me deeply as she wrapped her legs around my waist. I lowered her onto the bed, crawling over her and breathing heavily with eagerness. I ground my hips against her, letting her feel how turned on I was, pushing her dress higher up until it was at her waist.
She took over quickly, surprising me a little as she pushed me onto my back and pulled her dress over her head, revealing a matching pink lace bra and panties. I let out a pleased groan as she crawled toward me and undid my jeans. She pulled me free, gently stroking my aroused form before taking me in her mouth. I laid my head back, moaning and running my fingers through her hair, enjoying this moment immensely. It had been a while for me, and I definitely missed it.
When I couldn’t take it anymore, I pulled her back up to me, kissing her mouth and wrapping my arms around her while undoing her bra. Alicia let the straps slide down and tossed her bra aside, letting her round ample breasts fall free. I took one nipple in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it and flicking it, my hand fondling her other breast as she ground against my hard on.
She let out a pleasing little noise as I played with her breasts, and I stiffened even more, my dick jerking against her. “Do you have a condom?” she whispered.
I released her breast and nodded, pointing to my nightstand. She leaned over, reaching into one of the drawers and produced one. I obediently slid my jeans and boxers all the way off, letting her slip it on me.
It was rather obvious that she liked to be in control, and I was completely okay with that. In fact, I found it quite sexy. She tugged off her panties and flung them in the same direction as her bra and dress. I smiled up at her, letting her rest her hands on my chest as she lowered herself onto me. Both of us moaned in unison as she took all of me inside her, and I gently bucked my hips, pulling her back down to me so I could kiss her.
Her tongue flickered against mine, and I moaned into her mouth as she rode me. I felt close to exploding, but wanted to hold out longer. I reached down, rubbing her clit, wanting her to come first. She moaned against my lips, and I gently tugged her bottom lip between my teeth as my fingers made determined little circles around her clit.
“Oh my God, Owen!” She pulled back, whimpering, her movements quickening. I moved my hips to match her pace, watching her expression as she came. My own orgasm came upon me with equal force, and I dug my nails into her ass, thrusting deeper inside her, letting her moans fuel me on over the edge.
When we were finished, however, I immediately knew I wouldn’t be too proud of myself the next day.
CHAPTER FOUR
Nalia
“ think I need to get laid tonight,” Grace announced as she carefully applied her eyeliner in the bathroom mirror. “It's been a while, and, well, girls have needs, too.”
I laughed and looked up at her through her reflection in the mirror over the dresser in the bedroom of the hotel.
“So is that your plan for the night?” I asked. I couldn’t really say I’d blame her, though. She’d just gotten out of a long relationship that had turned downright sour toward the end, and I was guessing that she probably needed to blow off some steam. And she was entitled to do that in whatever way she wanted.
She smiled at me and nodded. “Well, if the right opportunity arises, anyway,” she said with a sly smirk. “I'm not about to hop into bed with any old Joe. I have my standards, and I'm not about to lower them just because I'm in the mood to get some!”
I laughed and went back to applying my eyeshadow and eyeliner. After a moment, I regarded my reflection and adjusted the little black dress that I’d brought along just in case Grace wanted to go out. In our many years of being friends, I had learned to be prepared for anything with her because the unexpected was almost always the case when we went on little trips like this. Grace loved her spontaneous ideas and, more often than not, those ideas involved getting dressed to the nines and hitting cocktail bars and clubs. In that way, “spontaneous” had become, well, kind of predictable to be honest. But hey, it was still fun.
I studied my reflection. The dress hugged my curvaceous figure quite nicely and made my ass look great, if I did say so myself. I didn’t go anywhere without this dress being packed. It was my go to dress.
“You’re looking really hot,” Grace commented, looking me over as she grabbed her heels out of her bag. I waggled my eyebrows at her then did the same, sitting on one of the double beds and slipping on a pair of silver stilettos. “Keep it up and we both might get laid,” she added with a mischievous grin and a quick wink.
“Nah. Not tonight, Grace. I'm just not feeling it. I’m way more interested in dancing,” I assured her with a shrug. Honestly, I was much more focused on the job possibility we’d talked about earlier. In fact, my thoughts had been focused almost entirely on that since she'd first told me about it. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of finding a job in the music industry earlier. Now, all I knew was that I had to get this job somehow. My mind wasn’t really on guys. Especially, not players at a club that were only good for a one-night stand. That wasn't exactly what I needed in my life at the moment.
“Right, well, I’m sure we’ll do plenty of that, too,” she giggled, clearly a little buzzed from the pre-game cocktails she had already polished off. I, on the other hand, had barely taken a few sips of one. Grace was definitely the party girl out of the pair of us.
“You ready?” I asked. She nodded and stood up, twirling to show me her own skimpy, sleeveless dress. I quickly gave her an approving thumbs up and a grin. Grace did the same for me as I posed in a joking manner before I grabbed my purse.
“Which club are we going to?” I asked as we headed down the hallway toward the elevator.
“Le Venin Lounge,” she replied with a smile. I wanted to sigh, but instead, I simply returned the facial expression back at her. I really should have known that would be her choice. It was her favorite club to go to whenever we came down to San Diego, and like the other aspects of her so-called spontaneity I've mentioned, it was also becoming a little predictable. Really, I hadn't even needed to ask.
Le Venin was French for “The Venom” and the interior of the club — from the entry to the bathrooms — was done up in plush red and black. In a way, it kind of reminded me of what I imagined an upscale vampire club would look like, if such things actually existed. I was pretty sure that that must have been the vibe the designers were going for when they planned the place.
Truth be told, despite all the complaining I did about it in my head, I was actually fairly fond of the club, as well. We always ended up getting our drinks covered by the guys there without too much effort on our part, so there was always that to look forward to.
Twenty minutes later, we arrived at the club, and I followed Grace straight to the bar when we walked in. Sure enough, a couple of guys nodded in our direction, and a few minutes later, free drinks were placed in front of us. It had to be a record on our part. I leaned over close to Grace’s ear and said, “I told you this dress always works.”
We smiled as we took our drinks and offered an appreciative nod to the guys, with Grace throwing in a playful wink just for the fun of it.
“The one on the left is pretty cute,” she all but shouted to me over the music as she took a sip of her cocktail. I nodded in response.
I had to admit that neither of the guys were bad looking, but I was really just interested in dancing and having some fun tonight. Not that I couldn’t do that while dancing with a guy who didn’t mind buying me a drink or two. Of course, I didn't want to lead anyone on or get their hopes up for something that just wasn't going to happen. Still, I'd have to at least have a chat with them, even if that's all they got out of me. Not that I had a choice since Grace was already motioning for them to join us.
Both guys came over at Grace’s encouraging smile, and the one she’d been eyeballing started chatting her up immediately. The other guy seemed a bit shy, so I motioned to the dance floor and held my hand out for him. He took it and followed me out to an empty spot among the crowd. The club was thumping with a heavy beat, and I let him dance up on me, grinding and gyrating my backside against him as I took a drink.
“You’re beautiful. You live around here?” he shouted.
Ugh, he was actually trying to make conversation. Well, I couldn’t be mean, even if I wasn’t interested; he had paid for my drink, after all, and was being nice enough so far.
“Thank you. And no, I’m from L.A. We're just down here for the night,” I responded.
He slipped his hands onto my waist and brushed his face against my shoulder, so he could speak closer to my ear and not have to shout so much, I suspected. “Oh? Just for the night? That’s too bad.”
“Yep, just needed some time away and a girls’ night out.” I took another sip, not really wanting to continue chatting. He seemed to take the hint and turned me around, rolling his hips against me and smiling. I had to admit, he was quite handsome with his light eyes and perfectly styled head of dark, wavy hair.
“That’s cool. My name’s Devin,” he said with a wink.
“Nalia. Nice to meet you, Devin,” I smiled at him and took another sip. “Thanks again for the drink.”
“It’s no problem, no problem at all! There's plenty where that came from. Let me know if you want another.”
Oh yeah, he was hoping to get laid all right, and it certainly already looked like his friend would with Grace. For a brief moment I did actually consider it, but one-night stands had never been my thing and besides, I had too many other things on my mind. Plus, this guy seemed more sweet than smooth, unlike his friend who was already making out with Grace in a booth. I’d hate to mess around with him and give him hope when I had no interest in relationships at the moment. That would have been cruel and selfish on my part.
“I think your friend seems to be getting along pretty well with mine,” he laughed, nodding toward the booth where the two were sucking face.
I grinned. “Yeah, I think that’s a safe assumption to make.”
“Need a refill?” He motioned to my empty glass, and I nodded, thanking him and following him back to the bar. Grace eyed me over the guy’s shoulder and gave me a thumbs up as the guy she was making out with nibbled at her neck. I couldn’t help but laugh at my wild friend.
Devin and I both got another drink and sat at the bar for a bit making idle chit chat. I think he was picking up on the fact that he probably wasn’t going to score tonight with me, but he didn’t seem to mind and was still interested in hanging out. I found it a little refreshing that he didn’t assume buying me drinks meant I owed him something. So, after a bit more chit chat, I ended up playing his wing man when I spotted another girl eyeing him from across the bar.
“I think she’s checking you out.”
“Huh?” On instinct, he looked around, then looked embarrassed as he had been talking to me. I motioned toward the girl subtly, however, and he looked. “But I’m talking to you.”
“Yes, and you’re a really sweet guy, but I don’t live here and I'll probably never see you again. She might, though. And trust me on this, I’m fairly certain that chick is digging on you and that you should ask her to dance. In fact, if you don't, you might be wasting a really great opportunity.”
A confused expression came over his face, like he was unsure of what to think of my help. “You think I should go talk to her?”
I nodded, giving him an encouraging smile.
“Really?”
“Yes, really! I’ve had a lot of fun dancing with you and chatting, but I think that girl is into you, and like I said, maybe she’s local,” I added. “Trust me, I know that look she's been giving you. I know exactly what it means.”
His eyes lit up.
“But I don’t want to be rude and leave you here alone.”
“I’ll be fine! I promise. I came here to dance and I got to do that, and I have my drink to keep me company until those two are ready to go. I just have too much on my mind right now to think of doing anything else. Besides, something tells me that even though you might feel like sticking around here for quite a bit longer, those two are gonna be ready to leave pronto.” I motioned back toward Grace and his friend.
He laughed, then asked one more time if I was sure. I nodded and watched him get up and talk to the other chick. She gave him a wide, inviting smile and placed her hand on his chest as she laughed at something he said. Oh yeah, that girl would be much more appreciative of his efforts tonight than I would.
Twenty minutes later, Grace came up and grabbed my arm, the guy she’d been sucking face with behind her, arms wrapped around her waist. “This is Jackson, by the way.” She had a giddy look on her face that I had to fight not to laugh at. It was clear her mission had been accomplished. She’d found an acceptable suitor to keep her company for the night and was ready to get out of there and take care of business. “You ready to go?”
“Yep, let’s go.”
“Where’d Devin go?” Jackson asked. I nodded toward him and the other girl, already kissing on the dance floor.
“I think he’ll be fine,” I said as he glanced in our direction. I gave him a thumbs up, and he grinned. “Oh yeah, he’ll be just fine.”
Jackson made his way over to Devin and had a few quick words before the three of us headed out of the club, this time walking down the beach to our hotel. Grace and I took off our heels because walking in the sand in heels was a terrible idea. I could just see one of us tripping and going face first in the sand in our tipsy states.
Jackson seemed like a decent enough guy, even for a one-night stand, goofing off and making us laugh on the way back, at one point actually tripping himself by not paying attention. Grace and I giggled at him before she helped him back up and dusted the sand from his ass.
When we reached the hotel, all three of us went up to the room. I went into the bathroom and changed into a comfy t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants then grabbed my iPad. “I think I’m going to head to the lounge area, give you two some alone time,” I told them, slipping on some flip flops.
Grace mouthed a “thank you” and winked at me. I only nodded my head, grabbing my door key on the way out. There were some comfy-looking, red couches in a little lounging area on our floor, and I made myself comfortable on one, popping in my earbuds and putting on a movie.
Despite the distraction, my mind wandered to the job possibilities Grace and I had talked about earlier, and I couldn't help but smile. I had a good feeling about it. I wracked my brain, trying to remember the name of the agency Grace had mentioned earlier while we were getting ready, but my mind was still a little foggy from drinking.
It took a few minutes, but I finally remembered: North Star Entertainment Staffing Agency. I Googled their site and clicked the link, looking it over, and found a place to apply for more administrative type roles with musicians and bands. I couldn’t believe I hadn't known before know that jobs like this were an option. I doubted I would get the job, but it couldn’t hurt to apply, and maybe Grace would be able to give me an extra boost to get me noticed. Either way, I decided to apply then and there. After all, I had plenty of time to kill while I was hanging out in the hallway lounge.
Since I was most interested in the positions they offered in tour management, I bluffed here and there on the application, adding a few things to my resume that, if checked out, would fall right through. But I didn’t care. I had to do everything in my power to ensure that they would at least give my resume a second look. Either they would call me or they wouldn’t.
It also had a spot for me to add a headshot. So, I found a good picture one of Grace’s photographer friends had taken of me and uploaded it. It made a decent professional headshot.
Once I had finished applying, I curled up on the couch, watching the movie and waiting for Grace to give me the all clear. Instead, at some point I drifted off to sleep, thinking about how amazing things could be. A new career, a few connections in the world of music, hell, maybe even a new, rock star boyfriend… Who knew? All things were possible at that moment.
CHAPTER FIVE
Owen
and Jay sat on one side of the table, both looking like hell. I wished I could have said I was surprised that they’d drank themselves into a stupor again last night. I wasn’t though, not even a little bit, unfortunately.
So here we were, sitting in a nice restaurant, and they still had their sunglasses on, with their hair strewn all crazily about like some drugged-out ’80s rock stars. Well, come to think of it, they weren’t too far off the mark, they just happened to be in the wrong decade. Seeing Talon drink, I admit, did make me a little wary, but he promised me he was doing nothing else and that he wouldn’t take it to the extreme. All I could do was trust him.
“So you get any leads on assistants yet?” Talon asked, taking a sip of soda. “And, why do you insist on going out for brunch? We are not high society debutants, ya know. Hell, I'm normally still sleeping at this hour.”
The others laughed and chimed in with similar jibes. I merely shrugged in response. “Since when is it a crime to like breakfast food close to lunch time?”
Talon smirked across the table at me and took a bite from his eggs. “It’s not. It’s just weird that you called it 'brunch' when you set it up. I mean, come on, dude, who uses words like that?”
I ignored him, shaking my head. “No guys, no leads just yet. However, I do intend to check some online later that Mike sent me. So, we might have someone soon. And then I can quit worrying about all this crap!”
“You gonna find a hot assistant?” Talon waggled an eyebrow, peeking over his sunglasses. “She'd better be easy on the eyes, dude. Seriously, don't let me down on this; I'm looking forward to it.”
I frowned at him. “I’m going to find a good assistant, Tal. Whether she happens to be hot or not is irrelevant. Whether she can keep her cool and do her job in spite of you dumbasses will be the real question.”
“I definitely think you need a hot assistant,” Jay added. Talon nodded his agreement, taking a few more bites.
“Why? So you can harass her and show her your ‘giant’ dick?” I narrowed my eyes at him.
The others snorted into their drinks. Talon’s grin only widened. “No. I was thinking so you can show her yours. I think you seriously need to get laid, bro. It might go a long way toward helping you lighten up a little.”
I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “How about nobody shows her their dick, guys? How about that?”
They all laughed, but my expression didn’t change. “I’m serious. No fucking around with the assistant. Any of us. Deal? Let’s do things right and not fuck this up. The last thing I need is for our assistant to quit halfway through the tour because she was harassed to a point of no return or she got burned by one of you idiots. We can't afford to have that happen, we really can't.
“We're gonna be on a crazy schedule, and any fuck ups could make the entire thing crash and burn. And you all know this as well as I do. So can we please agree to just leave the assistant alone and let her get on with her job?”
“Deal,” Jeremiah piped in immediately.
“Deal,” Jay said. The look on my face convinced him that I was serious, and he knew from years of experience when to quit messing around, and when to back down.
Talon, on the other hand, hesitated. After a moment, which I am certain he waited for just for dramatic effect, he agreed. “All right then. It's a deal. I promise I won't show her my anaconda – even though she's the one who's gonna be missing out.”
All three of them agreed to the no sex with the tour assistant pact, and I felt somewhat relieved. My brother could be quite the horn dog, but if he made a promise, he did always keep it. We finished off brunch, chatting a little more about the tour, as well as adding a few more things to our to-do list. The other guys left, and I drove Talon and me back to my place.
“I’m really excited about this tour,” he said as he stared out the window.
“I know, man. I told you we’d do this if you got clean last year,” I smiled. “I’m pretty excited about it, too. I can hardly believe we’re actually doing it. I've got such a great feeling about this. Just feels right. Ya know? Just like the old days, before we hit it big. It's almost like going back in time, in a way.”
Talon smiled, pulling out a cigarette and rolling down the window. “I just really needed this. The band back together, us all hanging out again. Thanks, Owen. I really mean that.”
“Love you, man.” I patted his shoulder.
I did love my baby brother. We’d always been close and, to a certain degree, I knew he still looked up to me. He always had, especially when we were kids. When I started a band, he wanted in. He’d slaved over the drums, learning how to play just so he could be a part of it, and in the process, had turned into an amazing drummer.
And last year when he overdosed, it had really scared the hell out of me. The thought of losing him had almost killed me. I couldn't imagine a life without my kid brother in it, and that had come so close to being a reality.
That was the point at which I begged him to get into treatment and get clean, and I realized he was missing things in his life and hurting to the degree of trying to fill those voids with drugs. Without the music, he'd simply found another outlet for his pain. So that was another factor in my decision to get the band back together.
Of course, I was happy about getting back together with the other guys in the band, but I really brought the band back together for Talon because when he had a sense of purpose and direction like that, he didn't need to get high out of his skull on drugs or spend time with the wrong crowd.
Talon went straight for my living room couch the moment we got to my house, whipping his sunglasses off and diving into the pillows.
“Ya know, those late nights and fast women are going to get the better of you one of these days,” I jabbed.
“God, I hope so,” he chimed back, his voice muffled through the pillows.
I laughed at him and headed up the stairs to my office. My intention was to check out some of the applicants Mike had sent information on because I really needed to lock down someone as soon as possible so that I could stop worrying about the admin side of the tour and really focus on the music and rehearsing with the band. I shut the door behind me and opened up my laptop, looking for the email he said he’d sent so that we could set up interviews for the following day.
It didn’t take long to find it, and within a few minutes, I was reading over the first applicant’s qualifications. The girl looked nice enough, and her resume was decently impressive — she could definitely be a possibility. I went through two others who were not as impressive, but not bad. The fourth one was cute and had a resume like the first girl, so I earmarked her for an interview, as well.
I got to the last one, though, and was blown away. Her resume was not only good, but the picture attached was fucking hot. Hot enough that I looked up her name on Google and managed to find more pictures of her. One, in particular, stood out. She was standing on the beach in a bikini, holding a surfboard.
I actually mumbled an “Oh, my God,” while staring at it. She was tanned and curvy with hips for days and full breasts. She had long, brown hair and honey-colored eyes that I could get lost in, even through a computer screen. She was totally my type. “Nalia,” I said to myself, re-reading her name. I liked that. Oh yes, I’d definitely have to interview her. Leaning back, I couldn’t help just thinking about what I could do with her.
I was already a little hard just from looking at a picture of her. Looking around the room, I undid my jeans. It wasn’t as if my brother would wake up anytime soon. I grabbed my dick, gently rubbing it as I stared at her breasts and face, imagining those full lips kissing me, those breasts pressed against my chest. I thought of squeezing that full ass as she bounced on my lap, and thrusting myself deep inside her.
My dick began to ache and harden just at the thought of her, and I let out a groan, rubbing it harder, thinking of her mouth on my cock, sucking and licking. I thought of bending her over my desk right there, taking her doggy style after knocking everything off and onto the floor. I came quickly, groaned, and scrambled for napkins in my desk to clean up the mess.
When my mind was a little clearer, I considered the “no sex with the assistant” pact I’d made the guys agree to and felt a little guilty. Just for a moment, I thought about not marking her for an interview. But between her impressive resume and those eyes…yeah, I definitely wanted to interview her. In fact, there was no way I couldn't.
“Nalia,” I said aloud as I stared at her picture. “You and I are definitely gonna meet. And I have to say, part of me hopes you blow me away in this interview and part of me hopes you totally bomb it. So, what’s it going to be?”
CHAPTER SIX
Nalia
was starving. And since I hadn’t had any breakfast, I decided to make myself an early lunch. I put some music on in the kitchen and started chopping up stuff for a big, chef salad, which would go a long way toward satiating my hunger. Grace strolled downstairs just as I was pouring dressing over the monster creation and grabbed a fork from a drawer, taking a bite out of the salad as she plopped onto a tall chair at the counter.
“Mmm, this is good, Nay. You make yummy salads.” She grinned, her hair in a messy bun on top of her head, with bits of it sticking out all over the place.
“I can’t believe how late we slept in,” I said, grabbing each of us a water from the fridge.
“Well, I don’t think either of us slept too well out in San Diego,” she replied with a mischievous grin on her face.
“I actually got plenty of sleep, unlike you. Granted, it was on a couch in the lounge, so it wasn't the comfiest night ever,” I joked, stabbing my fork into the salad. “You’re the one that didn’t get much sleep, Missy. You were far too busy with other things, I believe.”
“Guilty as charged.” Grace held a hand up and smiled before taking another forkful. We both giggled.
“Seriously, though, I had a fun time at the club, even though we weren't exactly there for too long. I really love Le Venin,” I said. I actually did have fun, despite playing wing woman to Grace while she got some. In spite of that, it had just been really nice to get away for a little while, and I always liked going to the beach down there.
“It was a fun trip,” she agreed, taking another bite. “God, this salad is so good. You really do have a talent for whipping these things up.”
“Speaking of 'tossing the salad,' I wonder if that guy knew who he was banging,” I said, snickering. “Grace Nelson, starlet of The Turning Globe.”
That devious grin came back over her face. “He had no idea at all, girl. None whatsoever! Just imagine if he happens across a commercial for it. I think it's safe to say he'll get quite a shock!”
We both giggled again, imagining the poor guy’s reaction.
“Speaking of the show, what’s your new co-star like? Eric Donovan, was it?”
“Ugh, he’s a total ass,” she groaned as she rolled her eyes, stabbing at the salad again. “He's got a serious attitude problem. But he's really stacked down below, though, if you know what I mean.”
“Wait, what? You already banged him?” I nearly choked on my salad. Grace gave me a helpless shrug, and I just rolled my eyes and shook my head. The woman was insatiable, it seemed – and far too reckless about it. This was not the first time this had happened, no, not by a long shot.
“Come on, Grace; I'm not trying to be judgmental or anything, I’m really not, but isn’t that how you ended up having problems with the last guy? I mean, you do know that old saying about not shitting where you eat, and all that.” I raised an eyebrow at her.
“Maybe. It didn't matter anyway, though. The writers killed him off, and that was that, problem solved,” Grace grinned.
“Just be careful with that untamable libido of yours or they might kill you off next,” I warned her. “We don't need you being out of work as well as me. Gosh, imagine that! What a train wreck it would be, the pair of us both unemployed!”
“The writers wouldn't kill me off. Well, not right now, anyway. I’m the most popular character on the show… But yeah, I get what you’re saying. I know it's best to keep work and play separate, so I’ll try to behave. The keyword there, of course, is try. I'm not about to make promises I can't keep when I'm surrounded by hot guys all the time!” She winked at me and grabbed her water.
Eventually, we managed to finish off the salad, and thirty minutes later, we decided to go for a long jog. I went upstairs and changed into a sports bra, running shorts, and a tank top. Pulling my hair back into a quick bun, I rushed back downstairs. Grace was already dressed and ready to go and was just busy tying her sneakers. We grabbed our sunglasses before heading out into the heat, ready to work up a good sweat.
I put in my headphones to block out any catcalls and followed her down the street. L.A. was crowded, as it always was. I both loved and hated living amongst all the people. Sometimes it was inspiring and energizing, but other times I found it downright draining, overwhelming and exhausting. L.A. definitely hadn't been my first choice in living destinations, that was for sure.
I’d come out with Grace long ago when she landed her first job as an actress, but the difference between her and I was that I didn’t have to stay like she did. Nothing was holding me to this place. I could go anywhere I wanted, in theory at least. Why I hadn’t, I wasn’t sure. Maybe I’d just gotten comfortable staying in L.A. with my best friend, or maybe I was a little too scared of change. The thought of striking out on my own into unknown territory was more than a little intimidating.
I had also thought I could do more with my music by being in L.A., but, so far, everything I tried in that regard had proved fruitless. And what was more, passing all the billboards as we ran most days didn’t do much for my ego in that department. They were usually filled with new bands or singers being promoted because they’d managed to strike gold and get signed on with a label, unlike me. Their smiling success was a constant mockery of my constant failure. Today was no exception.
We came to an intersection, and the walk signal flashed, so Grace and I went to go. As we did, a horn blared, and Grace grabbed my arm, tugging me out of the way just quick enough to avoid both of us getting hit by some asshole in a convertible.
“Hey! We have the right of way, jerk wad!” I shouted after the car, tugging off my headphones. Both Grace and I frowned at each other, continuing across the street.
“Sometimes I really hate it out here,” she grumbled, breathing heavily as she jogged. “There really are so many entitled, arrogant assholes in this part of the country.”
“Yeah, some of these people really get to me. And, the place itself gets to me at times, as well, I hate to say.”
“You know, I’m stuck out here, but you’re not,” Grace said, as if she’d been reading my mind. “You don't have anything chaining you to this place. No job, no boyfriend, no family. You could be anywhere you want to be.”
“I know,” I admitted as I jogged next to her. “Trust me, it's something that's been on my mind a lot. Especially on days like this.”
“Maybe you should go somewhere else. At least, for a bit. You know, give some other place a try while you still have the freedom to do that.”
“You want me to leave? Trying to get rid of me for your one-night stands?” I asked her with a hint of laugh.
“Yep, that’s it,” she fired back. “No, but seriously, Nalia. I know you want to travel and see the world. Maybe it’s about time you do that. You're only young and free once. Me, I'm living out my dream, kind of at least, even if it means I have to be here. But you, you're not.
“So, maybe you should look for a job that travels some. And, let's keep our fingers crossed because that job you put in for will help some if you get it. Touring the country with a crazy-ass, mega-famous rock band would totally be your kind of thing.”
I laughed. “That’s a big if, you know. And, it’s hard to travel the world with no money and not much of an education.”
“Whatever! There's no need to be so pessimistic about this. Remember, where there is a will, there is a way,” Grace said. “Come on, I should be proof of that. You remember how many things I auditioned for before I finally caught a break? I mean, there were weeks, months even, when it seemed I'd have to pack my bags and leave this town with my tail between my legs and try go back to the real world to find some kinda office job or something.
“But I persisted, and I never gave up. And sure enough, I caught my break in the end. And, I'm sure that you’ll catch your break, too; you just have to keep pushing at it.”
“I know, I know. It just feels like I’m pushing a lot, and the world is just pushing me right back. Only a lot harder,” I said.
“Nalia, you’re talented, beautiful, and smart. I have no doubt that eventually, things will fall into place for you if you keep going.”
“Well, maybe if I don’t find a job by the end of the week, I’ll start looking for a new adventure, maybe another way to get my music out there. I mean, I have to, right? I can't keep going on like this. Something's gotta change, and I have to instigate that change.”
“That’s the spirit,” she smiled at me, wiping sweat from her forehead. “We should go out tonight to celebrate whatever new adventure of yours lies ahead.”
“You just want to go out again and find a handsome boy to toy with, don’t you?” I teased.
“Maybe. But hey, dancing is a good exercise, too!” she shot back, jogging faster. I followed, trying to catch up to her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Owen
groaned as I opened yet another file, this one a contract that needed review. I loved owning my own record company, but hated dealing with all the paperwork and the admin work that came with it. I’d already looked through so many documents in the past six hours that I felt like I would go cross-eyed.
My favorite part of owning the company was helping produce the actual music, forgetting about the paperwork, just turning out good albums and helping other artists succeed at their dreams. That was what made the blood pump faster through my veins – not reviewing damn contracts.
I wasn’t sure why I’d avoided getting Bleeding Heart back together as long as I had, but I was thanking God we were about to go back on tour. And, I couldn't deny that I was wishing I’d have already given more of the paperwork load to my second in command at the record label, instead of waiting until a week before we hit the road. This shit really wasn't what I wanted to be focusing my energy on at the moment.
I closed the document, needing to give both my eyes and my brain a break. I strolled around my office, looking at my shelves, all decorated with various items of Bleeding Heart memorabilia. There were tons of pictures from the road, awards, tour posters, and even a couple of framed records hanging on a wall.
Why the hell we ever stopped, I wasn’t sure. I knew part of it was because I was focused on starting the record company, but maybe I should have kept the band up, too. I wondered where we would be now if I’d done so. Still, it wasn't good to dwell on things that would have been or could have been. After all, the past was the past and it's not as if we can go back and change things.
A buzz came from the intercom on my desk, followed by my secretary’s voice. “Mr. Young? You available?”
“Yes, Aubrey. What’s up?”
“You're due at North Star Agency in an hour. Just giving you a reminder. Also, you never put in an order for lunch. Did you want me to run out and grab you something?”
Just then my stomach grumbled, as if on cue. “No, you know what? I need to get out of the office, anyway. I’ll just head out now and grab something on the way,” I told her. “Thanks, though.”
“Sounds good, boss. Good luck finding someone at the agency!” she said in her chipper voice. I smiled and thanked her again, grabbing my wallet off my desk. North Star wasn’t too far, so I figured I’d walk. Getting a bit of light exercise would be good for clearing my head, and there was a good sandwich shop on the way I could stop at.
Less than twenty minutes later, I was at the sandwich shop. I went inside and headed straight for the counter to order a hoagie. Just as I handed the cashier a twenty, someone let out a squeal behind me. I spun around to see a group of twenty-somethings staring at me, wide-eyed.
“Oh em gee! It’s really you!” One charged toward me, phone already up for a picture. “Can I please get a picture with you? I can’t believe you guys are finally getting back together!” She let out another squeal. I winced, but smiled and nodded, putting an arm out to let her come over to me.
Apparently, Aubrey had gotten our press release out last week. For the past few years, I had been able to come into this sandwich shop with no problem, but putting Bleeding Heart back out in the public light had probably brought had a hand in bringing on situations like this.
The girl came up beside me, hugging me as one of her giggling friends took her phone. I politely hugged the girl back and posed with her as the other girl took the picture. They switched places, and her friend hugged me just as tightly. At one moment, I was pretty sure she sniffed my t-shirt and it was all I could do not to laugh, although over the years I'd gotten used to this kind of attention from fans and all the weirdness that sometimes came with it. And believe me, there was a lot of weirdness at times. I posed for another photo with her before a few more girls crowded around wanting their pics taken with me.
This went on for a good twenty minutes, and a couple even lingered to watch me eat my sandwich with enthralled attention from a nearby table, giggling the whole time. Instead of annoying me, it made me smile and reminded me just how fun that aspect of touring had been. Meeting the fans had always been great, even if it did get a bit exhausting and overwhelming at times.
I was amazed we still had the number of fans we had, but we had done pretty well for ourselves back in the day. So, I guess it really shouldn’t have been too much of a shock that some were still following us. A number of our shows for the tour were already sold out, after all.
It was nice having fans. That façade, that false sense of being desired, sometimes helped dull the sting of loneliness that came with the territory. Hell, I’d take what I could get.
While I had everything else, I did feel quite alone some of the time. Even if I didn’t have a problem getting laid, it wasn’t the same as having someone there that you cared about on a consistent basis. A real relationship. I’d never been able to find that. Maybe between the band and the record company, I’d just kept myself too busy to find anyone. Maybe I was a little picky or lacked the trust that they liked me for me instead of because I was Owen Young, rock star extraordinaire.
I waved to the girls as I left, causing another outbreak of giggles. I smiled and winked at them as I walked out the door and headed for the agency, still feeling that pleasant buzz of rock stardom tingling across my skin.
It was just before three when I arrived, and Mike was there waiting for me.
“Long time no see, Mr. Rock Star! How you doing, Owen?” He patted me on the back and smiled at me with a toothy grin.
“Good, good. You know how it is, man. With this record company, and now getting the band back together for the tour, things are crazy. I feel like I'm going nuts sometimes; there's just so much to do and almost no time to do it. Anyway, though, how are things here?”
“Oh, same as you I guess. Busy, busy,” he countered with a smile. “But, I was able to make time to schedule the three applicants you requested interviews with. They are already here and waiting. You can use my office. Let me know when to send the first one in.”
“You can go ahead and send her this way,” I told him, settling into his chair. “Thanks a bunch, man. I really do appreciate the help.”
“No worries. Glad to help. It's always a pleasure working with you, Owen – you represent the best of the music business, you really do. I wish a lot more of my clients were more like you; it'd certainly make my life a lot easier. Anyway, for these candidates, each of their resumes are right on my desk for you to go over with them. I’ll be right back.”
He disappeared out of the office, and a few minutes later, a mousy-looking girl walked in. I stood to greet her, stretching my hand out toward her.
“Owen Young, and you must be Felicia,” I said.
“Yes, hi,” she giggled. Oh God, I thought. She had to be a fan. Fans were great when you were on tour, but definitely not so much when part of the operations aspect of the tour. Nonetheless, I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and sat down to get on with the interview. It was only fair to give her a chance, after all.
“So, you have experience in managing music tours?” I asked her.
More giggles. “Yes, mostly with up-and-coming, unsigned, indie rock bands, kind of like how you guys started out.”
“Oh, that’s cool. We need someone well versed on locations and venues for bigger shows, though. Do you feel confident doing that?”
More giggles. Her giggles were like tiny pinpricks in my head and, to be honest, I was struggling to deal with it. Especially since she was just staring at me and not answering my questions.
“Felicia?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Sorry, I just can’t believe I’m actually sitting here talking to you.” She blushed...and giggled once more. Why me, I thought. I hoped the rest of the interviews weren’t going to be like this. Otherwise, I’d be ready to toss myself off the top of the building by the time I was done.
“Could you please answer my question?” I asked, no longer hiding my annoyance. This seemed to strike her as mean because her eyes misted up a little.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry. I’m blowing this, aren’t I?” she sniffled, which only led me to believe that she might be one of those emotional roller coasters, as well. Another red flag for a bunch of guys on tour.
“Do you not have experience booking larger scale tours?”
“No, just with smaller venues and smaller indie bands,” she finally answered. I let out a sigh. This girl was, unfortunately, not at all what I was looking for.
“Thank you, Felicia. I do appreciate your time, but I think that will be all.” I didn’t look her in the eyes, but I could already tell that she was, in fact, crying in earnest now. I sent Mike a text to summon him back over to the office. Mike came in and looked from me to Felicia, his forehead wrinkled as he made his way to the desk where I sat.
“Mike, I need someone that fits the profile I gave you. Please don’t waste my time,” I said quietly. Not quietly enough, though, because the girl got up from the chair and rushed out in a flurry of tears.
I honestly felt bad, but there wasn’t much I could do. We were a multi-platinum selling band with millions of fans all over the country, not a bunch of amateurs playing the dive bar circuit for beer money on weekends. Maybe once, but not anymore. We had to have someone who had enough experience to be professional around bands of our caliber; there was simply no getting around that, as hurtful as it may be to any of the hopefuls.
Mike looked back at me suspiciously, then nodded. “I promise the next two are much more qualified. I’ll be back with the next girl in a few minutes,” he said, then left me there alone to wait.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Nalia
first girl that had gone in for her interview came out crying and I bit my lip, suddenly a little more nervous than I had been. I felt a wave of uncomfortable heat wash over me, and for a few moments, a powerful feeling of nausea bubbled in my stomach. Was this guy a nightmare to deal with or something?
My stomach did a nervous flip flop as I watched the crying girl push the doors to the main office open and leave, sniffling and wiping at her face. He must have been pretty damn intimidating to have elicited that kind of response from her.
“Nalia Dean?” someone called my name and my stomach did another flip flop.
“That’s me.” I stood, smoothing out my skirt. I paused to breathe in deeply. I held the breath in my lungs and closed my eyes for a few moments to calm myself. I hadn’t been sure how to dress for this interview so I had opted for a more business-like attire. I had settled on a black two-piece skirt and fitted business jacket with a ruffled, V-neck, white blouse and a pair of black heels.
Mike, the man who had called me to schedule the interview today, held the door open for me to enter the hallway. I followed him in, not saying a word, just focusing on the walls of the long hall decorated with all the different awards and pictures of celebrities that they’d apparently worked with in the past. I recognized almost every single one of the artists, and to say I was intimidated was an understatement.
Finally, at the end of the hall we reached a corner office. A rather large corner office. A handsome man with short, jet-black hair he had spiked up in the front and mesmerizing, deep-blue eyes watched me come in. He was perched against the edge of the desk with his arms crossed – arms that were fit, tanned, and toned and had just enough muscle to fill out the t-shirt he was wearing.
“Nalia, this is Owen Young of Young Records and Bleeding Heart. Owen, this is Nalia Dean,” Mike announced as he introduced us.
I froze for a moment. This was the guy Grace had been talking about? This was Owen Young?
I recovered quickly, doing my best to stifle my surprise and shock, and reached my hand out while smiling warmly. Owen took it, shaking it politely. The nerves I had convinced myself I wasn’t going to have showed up in a big way the moment he did. I managed to keep them under control though and made sure that I came across as being calm, relaxed, and completely unintimidated by the rock star in front of me.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nalia. Please, have a seat.” He smiled at me, then nodded for Mike to leave us. As Mike left, Owen made his way back around the desk to take a seat in the chair.
Funny, this guy didn’t look like the type that would have chased the last girl out of there crying. Still, I had seen what I had seen, so I kept my guard up. Looks could be deceiving, after all. Besides, I wasn't only nervous because of the crying girl. It didn’t help that I’d bluffed a good bit on my resume. God help me if he called me on any of it. Then perhaps it would be my turn to rush out of the office in tears.
Of course, in addition to all of this, there was also the fact that I was being put off a little by his unnerving good looks. He had a nice, strong, chiseled jaw and those eyes…my God, those eyes. I had no doubt those eyes could get most any woman to do what he wanted her to do.
“So, I see here you’ve been a personal assistant for quite some time. There's a good amount of experience listed here, I must say. The only thing that gives me a little pause is that your resume shows it was mostly in a corporate setting with only a select amount of touring experience. I’m sure you can understand why this would cause me some concern. Most of your experience isn't quite in my field, really. What is it that’s made you want to make the switch from the corporate world to mine?”
Okay, that starting question wasn’t too difficult to handle.
“Well, to be blunt, I’m an aspiring musician myself, so it just makes more sense to work within the music industry. I never felt like I was the right fit in the corporate world. Music is, without a doubt, the number one interest in my life. It's a passion that's driven me for a long time. Working in the corporate world… Well, yes, I was really good at it, but it didn't move my soul. Not like being in the music business would.”
He nodded, studying me and mulling over what I’d said. Hopefully, it sufficed as a good answer, even if the bit about me having touring experience wasn’t at all true.
“And with touring, it says you’ve organized three tours before? I'll be honest, that's not a lot considering what this job will demand, but I will say that it’s a decent amount for a short period of time. How did you feel with organizing the first one?”
“I was a bit nervous and unsure of myself, as it was totally different than what I was used to doing, but I knew my capabilities and knew I could learn what I needed to know as I got through it. It was a good challenge for my skills, and I feel like I made the switch really well. Everything went very smoothly,” I responded.
Complete, big fat lie. Still, I’d helped organize big corporate events all the time, and figured that it couldn’t be that much different than scheduling tour stops and their venues. His smile widened at me and a small flutter shook in my stomach. Damn, the man was good looking. Especially when he smiled. He was much more handsome than I thought he would be. No wonder Grace liked his band.
“How comfortable would you be with organizing marketing and promotions for the tour? Things like radio interviews, interviews with rock bloggers, YouTube vloggers, that type of thing,” Owen asked.
Well, if what Grace had said was true, these guys had been kind of a big deal a few years ago. I doubted it would be that hard getting them on the radio, the web, or YouTube during their reunion tour. I was sure, in fact, that it was something that could possibly be done with relative ease, especially with a name as well-known as theirs. Most bloggers or radio hosts would jump at the opportunity.
“I definitely think I can handle that, no problem,” I told him, trying my best to look confident as I sat up a little taller. So far, it seemed the interview was at least going better than his first one — though that probably wasn’t saying too much considering how it ended in water works.
“Well, I'll say this, it’s going to be a lot of work, a lot more than you've done in these previous tours listed on your resume. In addition to that, you’ll be on the road with us during all of this, too, so you need to keep that in mind because that brings with it a whole different set of pressures and troubles to deal with. We have very comfortable accommodations on the bus, but it is still being on the road for nearly three months straight with a bunch of sweaty, crazy guys. And while that might sound like fun initially, I can promise you that it'll be pretty stressful and nerve-wracking, as well. Especially seeing as we're going to have a very tight schedule to stick to, so you need to take all of that into consideration.
“The pay is ten thousand a month, so it'll be thirty thousand for the first leg of the tour. Depending on how the first leg goes, we want to have a second leg of smaller venues later in the year. Also, bear in mind that this is a position with other potential. If you do a good job with it, I am always looking for reliable and dedicated people to work with me at my record company. So, if you impress me on this tour, there may well be a permanent position in line for you — a permanent position with very generous pay and plenty of perks and benefits.
“Do you think you could deal with three months on the road while organizing all of that and keeping the band in check and on schedule?”
I didn’t say anything for the moment. Ten thousand a month was still running through my head. Not to mention the possibility of working permanently at the record company. This would be a dream come true — if I got it, of course.
“Um…yeah, I think that seems fair. If you guys need someone to keep you organized, I’m definitely your woman,” I spouted, surprised at my confidence. I almost had myself fooled that I knew what the hell I was doing trying to organize a three-month tour. Still, if he gave me this job, I’d bust my ass making sure it got done right.
Owen’s face lit up as he studied me. “Well, that’s great to hear. I definitely need to know we’ll be in good hands, whoever we hire. The other guys can get a little crazy, and with the record company to take care of, I simply can’t handle taking care of the tour and them on top of my already insane workload. I mean, I know how to work hard, but doing all of that combined is beyond the capabilities of any human being who wants to maintain their sanity.”
So, he wasn’t a party boy like the rest of them. Interesting. There was definitely something about him, and that little admission that had me even more intrigued as to who Owen Young really was, outside of the persona of a successful record company owner and rock star. He stood upright and I couldn’t help but admire his body as he walked around the desk and held his hand out for me.
“Nalia, it really was a pleasure speaking with you,” he said as he took my hand and helped me out of my seat.
“Likewise,” I responded.
“We’ll definitely be in touch.”
I shook his hand and noticed his gaze roam over my outfit all the way down to my heels. I was glad I went with this particular ensemble. It was my power suit. It made me feel more confident, it looked great for interviews, and it happened to hug the right curves without doing it in too obvious a manner.
Indeed, it seemed like it might be working on him. For good measure, I flipped my hair over my shoulder casually as he let go of my hand. He started to open the door for me, but then stopped.
CHAPTER NINE
Owen
couldn’t get over how beautiful this woman was. The outfit she was wearing was killing me. It was like something born straight out of one of those secretary fantasies. Her confidence was sexy as hell on top of her tanned, curvy figure, and I was trying desperately not to get lost in those gorgeous eyes of hers. As hard as it was to believe, she looked even more stunning in person than she had in her photos.
It had been pretty hard to concentrate on the interview questions the whole time I'd been talking to her. In fact, I wondered if she'd noticed me staring at her. I'd done my best to conceal it, trying desperately to keep my eyes locked on her face when they were really scanning her body the whole time.
Thoughts from the night before crept back, the fantasies of my own that I was having about her, and I couldn't deny that I wanted to take her home right on the spot. To hell with the next interview. But fantasies and desires aside, I simply knew I couldn’t do that.
Apart from that being highly unprofessional conduct, I really did need to find a touring assistant, and quick. So far, out of the two girls I had already interviewed, Nalia was definitely the most qualified, and on top of that, she hadn’t run out of the room crying. So, that was an obvious plus. Besides, I owed it to the band to give this third applicant an interview; it was only fair. But, if the third one even remotely sucked compared to Nalia, the job was going to her.
I looked her over once again as we stood in the office, shaking her hand, then started to pull the door open for her. However, halfway through doing that, I stopped. Regardless of whether she was the most qualified or not, I wanted to see her again. I had to. I knew that much, at least. Somehow, I had to make it happen.
“Nalia, I’d like to see you for a second interview,” I said, trying to sound as professional as possible. It was hard with her standing so close. I could smell her soft, sweet perfume, see how warm her eyes were. “My band is rehearsing at the record company tomorrow around two in the afternoon. I’d like the rest of them to meet you. Just to see if you’d mesh well with everyone. That is pretty important to check out, given that you may well be around us 24/7 over a period of three months.”
Nalia smiled at me and nodded. “Sure, I can make that.”
“If things go well, we could grab a bite to eat and talk more about the tour and the to-dos that we would need to get done.”
“Sounds great. I can start as soon as you need me to,” Nalia added.
So far, she was hitting everything on my list for an assistant, as well as a few things off the list.
“Perfect. I’ll have my secretary call you with the address in the morning. See you tomorrow, and thanks for coming in on such short notice.”
Nalia gave me a smile and a small wave before disappearing down the hall. I couldn’t hide my own smile as I watched her go. She really did seem to be perfect for the job. Everything I had in mind for an assistant and beautiful to boot. My heart was still racing from being so close to her, and the thoughts from last night weren’t making standing there any easier. I adjusted my jeans, trying hide my excitement as best I could before Mike brought in the last applicant.
I knew that I would need to warn Talon to stay away from Nalia. Granted, we had all made an agreement to not mess around with the new assistant, but I knew my brother all too well. He wouldn’t go back on his promise to not have sex with her, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t push the limits of it. Although, now I was thinking that if anyone was going to blur those lines or even break the pact we had about her, it was going to be me.
Mike brought the last girl in, and from her rounded eyes and the insane smile plastered across her face, I was guessing she was another fan. Great, maybe I should have skipped the last interview after all.
“Sorry for staring. I just can’t believe it’s actually you who is interviewing,” she practically squealed as Mike led her into the office. I waved off his apologetic look. I’d still give her the benefit of the doubt and interview her.
“Yes, I am the one interviewing,” I stated, keeping my tone as polite as possible. While I was always flattered when meeting a fan, a job interview wasn’t really the place for gushing. “Why don’t we get to that?”
She put her hand out, shaking mine a little too enthusiastically. “I'm Mary! It’s so amazing to meet you, Owen. Oh, um, am I allowed to call you Owen? Is that all right with you?”
“Yes, it's not a problem at all. I prefer to keep things informal,” I smiled, gritting my teeth as I took my hand back. I sat in the desk chair, watching her fidget with the sides of her dress.
“So, tell me about yourself, Mary,” I requested. Her eyes widened more.
“Um, well… I’m a big, no, a huge fan of Bleeding Heart. I've seriously followed you guys from the first album! I've got all the live DVDs, too, and um… Well, all right, I think I should talk more about my actual work experience, right?”
“Yes, please,” I replied, “I'm flattered that you're such a fan, but I really do need to hear about what you feel qualifies you for this position, if you don't mind.”
She let out a nervous laugh. “I um… I love music. I’ve managed a few tours, um…” She bit her lip and fidgeted more. I glanced down at her resume. She actually had some legit experience with several bands, but if she was this nervous around me, how would she be around the rest of the band…or even just Talon?
“Sorry I’m so nervous. I am just a really big fan of you guys. I had no idea you would be here in person for the interview when they called me,” she apologized, a frown on her face. “I'm sorry, I really shouldn't be acting like this. It's just, it's just that... Well, wow, I never thought I'd actually be meeting you face to face.”
“Can you tell me about the tours you managed? Were they larger scale tours, local indie tours?” I asked, trying to avoid a repeat of interview number one.
“I, um…both. Uh…sorry.”
I frowned. This was not going well at all. And besides, despite her gushing, my thoughts kept returning to Nalia. She’d set the bar fairly high. So much so, it was getting rather difficult to concentrate on what this girl was actually saying. Still, I breathed in and out slowly and tried to force all of the thoughts of Nalia out of my head.
“This job would be very demanding. Three months of hard work, being stuck with us on a bus nearly 24/7. A lot is riding on this tour, so there would be a lot of pressure on you, including promotions, marketing, setting up interviews, and more. Not to mention the stress of keeping all of the band members in line and on schedule. And I'll tell you this, some of us can be a real handful, especially out there on the road. Do you think you could handle those kind of high pressure situations?”
She bit her lip, her frown deepening. I took that to be a probable no from her as she fidgeted with her dress more.
“I am crazy nervous. And, I’m doing horrible with this interview, aren’t I?” she asked, her eyes getting a little misty.
God, please no, not another crier.
“It’s not that. My concern is that if you’re this nervous around me, how will you be around the rest of the band? Working with them daily and keeping them in line, on top of all the duties that would be your responsibility. It's going to require someone who is totally unfazed by our celebrity status. Someone who is willing to look past all of that and put duty and responsibility first. Someone who is able to exercise very strict self-control.”
With that, a few tears streamed down her cheek and she sniffled. I cursed a few choice phrases in my head and looked for Mike since the office door had been left open on this one. He was standing at the end of the hall. I shook my head and nodded for him to come get her.
“I’m sorry, Mary. I’m sure you’re good at what you do, but I think we need someone that isn’t such a huge fan to be our assistant on the road. It's just that we have so much riding on this tour, and we're going to need someone who treats us as if we're students who need to be shepherded in the right direction, not a fan who is star struck and lets us get away with anything,” I told her sympathetically and offered her a hug as she stood up to leave.
She squeezed me tight and sniffled, or was she sniffing me? Was that a thing now? When she released me, I added a little something to soften the blow because she did have decent qualifications. “Mary, why don’t you meet with one of the staffing assistants here later this week and see what positions you might qualify for at Young Records. We are always looking for bright talent in some of our departments.”
“Thank you so much,” she said, her face lighting up a little.
Mike took her away and I felt some relief. Not just due to her absence, but at the thought of Nalia. She was my girl for the job, and of that fact I was now absolutely sure…without a shadow of a doubt.
CHAPTER TEN
Nalia
couldn’t believe how well the interview had gone. What’s more, it actually was Owen Young from Bleeding Heart who conducted it. I couldn’t wait to tell Grace. She was going to freak out over the fact that I had sat across from him, and there was no doubt in my mind that she'd be super jealous.
But not as much as she would be when she learned I was set to have a second interview with him tomorrow! I could hardly believe my luck; maybe things were finally going in the right direction for me. There was no way I could have imagined all of this turning out as well as it had for me so far.
How was such a huge change possible in such a short span of time? It was just the day before that I was unemployed, scrounging my last pennies together and thinking of moving out of this town. Now, there I was, looking as if I may well be taking on a ten-thousand-dollar-a-month job, working with one of the biggest rock bands in the industry! I was practically skipping as I walked down the sidewalk to the dive bar/wing house that had been my last job location.
I hadn’t lasted very long there. The job had been a terrible idea and an absolute nightmare. I’d dreaded going to work so much that I was constantly late, and I apparently didn’t dress slutty enough for them, either. Could have fooled me, though, considering all the drunken creeps who hit on me, or worse, the completely smashed assholes who managed to grab my ass or tried to cop a feel of my breasts as I had walked by them.
Nope, I did not miss that place. At all.
I cringed a little as I walked in through the front door. The smell of barbecue and beer hit my nose immediately. I spotted the new manager behind the bar and headed for her, hoping to get it over with as quickly as possible. The less time I spent in that dump the better.
“Hi, Allison, here to pick up my last check.” I plopped down on one of the barstools. Allison looked frustrated and judging by the slow service, completely understaffed.
“Look, if you could just get here on time, and dress more appropriate for the wing house, we can talk about you getting your job back,” she started, but I was quick to stop her right there.
“Oh no. I’m only here for my last check, and I’m not about to show half my tits just to get better tips from a bunch of drunken idiots in downtown L.A. Period,” I said. “Sorry, Allison, but there's no way in hell I'd ever work here again. Not a chance. Nothing personal. Just not one for being fondled and borderline molested on the regular.”
Yeah, this outfit really did give me extra confidence for some reason. Allison blinked stupidly at me, then frowned and shook her head like I was giving up such a huge opportunity. A huge opportunity for a sexual harassment lawsuit, maybe. She disappeared into the back and then came out a few minutes later, tossing the envelope onto the bar in front of me.
“There you go. Go on then. Don’t say I didn’t try to be helpful. I made you an offer and you turned it down, and God knows I'm not the kind of woman who makes such a generous offer twice. Good luck finding another job in this hell hole of an economy and don't come crawling back to me when you're down and out,” she grumbled.
I only grinned. “Thanks! I appreciate that!” My voice was so chipper she looked back up to make sure I had actually said what she’d heard. I smiled at her, turned on my heels, and left. My brother Jackson lived nearby and worked from home so I decided to go see him and tell him about my possible new job. I knew he’d be thrilled for me, especially since it would be working in the music industry, and he had known since we were kids that it had always been a dream of mine.
I used the doorknocker when I got there, just to annoy him. He hated that thing for some reason. He answered the door in surf shorts and a tank top, frowning with annoyance as he opened the door. However, when he saw it was me, his frown morphed into a smile and he quickly enveloped me in a huge bear hug before setting me back on my feet.
“Well, hey, sis, great to see you! What brings you this way, Nay?”
“Not too much. I thought maybe we could go grab some lunch so I can tell you about the job interview I just left and the second interview I have lined up for tomorrow!” I beamed at him.
A wide smiled spread across his face and he nodded.
“Man, that's awesome news, it really is! I've been waiting to hear something like this from you since you moved to L.A. You just made my day!”
“So, lunch?” I asked again.
“Yeah. Sure, let's grab a bite to eat, just let me slip on some flip flops or something and we can head out to that bar and grill I like so much,” Jackson said, gesturing me into the apartment. Like Grace, Jackson had managed to do rather decent for himself out here. He had a nice apartment and worked as a web designer and digital graphics guru. One day, when I made it big, I fully expected him to create my branding logo or album cover — probably both.
He came back to the door in a pair of black flip flops and grabbed his wallet off the table before locking the door behind him and escorting me to his car. I removed my jacket before getting in to not only get a little more comfortable, but to not feel quite as overdressed next to Jackson, who looked as if he'd just stepped off of the beach or something.
Throughout the whole drive to the restaurant, we chatted, but I told him he had to wait until we had ordered our meals to hear about my interview. I wanted to really be able to gauge his reaction and see what he truly thought about this opportunity that had presented itself to me.
We got there and took a table on the outside patio under a nice shade. When the waitress came over, we both ordered burgers and fries, then Jackson eyed me suspiciously.
“So, you going to spill it or what?” he asked. “You haven't said a word about your news the whole time we've been here. Come on, you trying to keep me in suspense or something? You know how impatient I get about stuff like this!”
I grinned. “All right, all right. Check this out: I just interviewed for a position as touring assistant to Bleeding Heart. And that’s not all; Owen Young invited me to their practice tomorrow to have a second interview with the whole band! If I get the job, I'll be touring with them for three months! Isn’t that amazing?”
I was anticipating some excitement. At least a little. But, judging from my brother’s dour expression, no, it was not amazing. Not even a little. A reaction that I would have to say surprised me a little.
“Nay, I know you want to work in the music industry, but I definitely do not think you should be working with those guys, much less going on tour with them. Sure, their music is really good, but have you read anything about them? Those guys turn and burn women constantly. No way is my little sister about to get involved with them. Nope. Nay, I really think this would be a terrible idea.”
Not expecting that kind of response, I frowned. My demeanor was suddenly angry and defensive. “I’m a grown-ass woman, Jack. I can do what I want. And if I do my job well enough, maybe Owen will help me get my own music out there. It’s not just like he’s only the lead singer, you know? He does also own a thriving record company. I think he could really help me.”
“Yeah, into his bed, maybe,” Jackson added, rolling his eyes.
I glared at him in silence, my anger simmering.
“What? It’s true!” he defended his statement. “The guy’s a dick, and he isn’t going to do anything that doesn’t fit his needs first and foremost.”
“Oh, so you personally know him, do you? Because he didn’t seem like a dick at all when I met him today. Besides, you make it sound like I’m some groupie fan who would just jump into bed because he smiled at me. I see how much faith you have in me,” I spewed before taking a bite of my burger.