Chapter Eight
Nalia
The 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.
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 a bit 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.