CHAPTER 8

ALICIA

The door to my office burst open unexpectedly, and of course, the person who walked through it was the devastatingly handsome man I was trying my best not to think about. I blinked when Jared appeared in my doorway, more than a little surprised that he was here.

I managed to compose myself quickly, set down the pencil I was marking documents with for my review of venues for the next tour, crossed my legs and arms, and arched a brow at Mr. Larsen.

“To what do I owe the pleasure? I heard our meeting had to be pushed back to a couple days from now, so I know it’s not that. What is it that I can do for you, Jared?”

He appeared to be amused by my question, and he certainly didn’t offer any context for his amusement. Instead, he pursed those full lips and stared back at me.

“I was supposed to be meeting with the band a couple of days from now, supposedly thanks to some scheduling errors,” I said when he remained in my doorway and stayed silent.

Jared sauntered into my office without being invited in and sank into one of the wooden chairs in front of my desk. He leaned back in it as if the place belonged to him, hooked his right ankle over his left knee, brought his hand to rest over where his toes were in his black sneakers, and lifted his gaze to mine.

“I thought we might have gotten off on the wrong foot, and I wanted a do-over.” He smirked a bit at the mention of a do-over, and I couldn’t help but wonder why. I didn’t know Jared, but it seemed true to form that he didn’t offer an explanation.

“We didn’t,” I told him. “I’m perfectly happy meeting with your entire band in a couple of days, when your practice and rehearsal slows down some, and I’m more settled in.”

Jared sat perfectly still, unnaturally so, even. “Practice is taking longer than we’d thought, so I thought I should come down here and give you the heads up, maybe let you buy me lunch for the way that you ogled my ass the other day.”

I hadn’t had the opportunity to ogle his ass the first time I’d met him, though I had little doubt that I would have if the opportunity had presented itself. “I didn’t check out your ass. You never even had your back turned toward me.”

“Oh.” He laughed, the sound making both my stomach and my sex clench in a way that was entirely inappropriate. “That must have been me checking out your ass, then.”

There was no way. “You checked out my ass?”

Smirking, he nodded, not in the least bit embarrassed. “I guess that means I owe you lunch. You ready to go?”

A short, abrupt peal of laughter escaped me at his assumption that I’d go with him, and I couldn’t help but notice Jared’s satisfied expression at my laughter.

“Just so you know, PR agent or not, I wouldn’t have gone to lunch with you, but thanks for the offer.”

Jared looked crestfallen, but I knew that he was faking it when he clutched at his heart in mock hurt. “My poor ego. It’s going to curl up and die from the way that you keep shutting us down.”

“I’m sure that it’s big enough to withstand a couple of knocks from the likes of me.” My laughter was barely suppressed, but I was also being honest.

Jared’s expression was playful, his soulful brown eyes filled with amused arrogance. “It’s plenty big enough, I assure you. You’re welcome to do whatever you want to it, but just for the record, knocking isn’t encouraged.”

Can the guy say anything without it sounding sexual? I was grateful that this wasn’t my first rodeo, and that I could give as good as I got. “The record shall reflect that knocking is too rough for your… fragile ego.”

The humor in Jared’s eyes intensified, and I was sure that lesser women had melted under that look. I prided myself on being able to withstand these types of guys, but if he kept looking at me like that, my panties were signing their own weekend pass and going with him.

“My… ego can deal with rough. Why don’t you let me worry about that?”

“Because that’s my job, Mr. Larsen. I worry about whatever that ego of yours gets you into.” Both of us knew that I had long since stopped talking about his ego, but Jared seemed to play along.

“It’s Mr. Larsen now? Let’s stick to Jared and Alicia, shall we? I’ve always hated unnecessary formality.”

“Your wish is my command. Jared it is, then.”

“Well, well, well.” He rubbed his hands together, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Tell me more about these wishes.”

I heaved a playful, exaggerated sigh. “I’m here to proverbially clean up after you, so the wishes are up to you, but please try to think about the fact that I love sleep before you make them come true.”

“I don’t know what you mean. I’m always on my best behavior.” The grin on his face directly contradicted his words.

“Your best behavior leaves something to be desired then. Maybe we should start there.”

“Have you been stalking me, Alicia?” he asked, arching a dark brow, but looking genuinely interested in my answer.

“If you want to call my job being a professional stalker, then yes. Considering that I get paid to know about your behavior, I would only call it being good at my job.”

“Point taken,” he said. “I’m assuming Gerry told you about the Ford Anglia incident. That seems to be one of his go-to stories about us.”

“He did,” I answered honestly. If I was going to get to know these guys and get them to trust me the way I needed them to so I could do my job properly, I was going to be as honest with them as I needed them to be with me.

Jared wasn’t going to let me off that easy, though. “Did he also tell you about the time Nick and I were photographed in a hot tub with nine naked Victoria’s Secret models? Or about the time Brad had to pretend to be gay to get a stubborn, particularly insistent girl to leave my room?”

I saw what he was doing. In a way, it was no different than Gerry’s tests when I’d first met with him. Jared was asking whether I was comfortable dealing with their sexual exploits. “I hadn’t heard about those things, but thank you for telling me. We’ll need to be open with one another going forward.”

“If you want open, I can give you that,” he told me, his lips curling up into a grin that signaled trouble. “Matt once accidentally nailed our producer’s much younger wife, and Caleb spent an entire tour taking his blue balls out on Brad. Nick still swears that he got chlamydia from a koala bear that he held for a photo shoot when we were down under, and I narrowly avoided becoming a cliché in Vegas by marrying a stripper whose rack I swore was made of gold.”

If he was trying to rattle me, he’d failed dismally. I burst out laughing instead. “Those sound like some great stories. I can’t wait to see what you guys get into next.”

Jared probably would have been less surprised if I’d grown antlers, but he masked his surprise quickly and started laughing along with me. “I’m glad you can see the humor in these situations. You’re going to fit in just fine with Destitute.”

Now that he was comfortable enough with me, it was time to lay down the law. “You’re going to have to keep things under control while you’re recording this album, though. If you start generating negative publicity now, chances are that it will fester and ruin the hype before you even drop your first single. That could cause some serious damage to your album release, and I’d hate to see that happen.”

Jared laughed, muttered something about whiplash, and fixed me with those famous brown eyes, the color of melting milk chocolate and equally as delicious. “You can trust me. I know what I’m doing. They don’t call me the Emperor of Rock for nothing. They want me to do whatever I want.”

It was exactly that attitude that I was afraid of, because his cheesy title of Emperor wasn’t going to get him far if they colored too far outside of the lines. “I’ve worked for other bands before you, and before that, I worked under some of the great public relations people of our time. Believe me when I tell you, that exact attitude has taken down more reputations than you can count.”

“I can count real high.” He winked, then continued. “The public loves me. They adore us, and they eat up whatever we do.”

Jared leaned back in his chair as if he’d just won in Epic Rap Battles of History. He wore a satisfied look and a smug smile.

I breathed in deeply and reminded myself that he was the Destitute front man, and as such, if I could get through to him, I would have less trouble with the others. Also, since he was the front man, I should refrain from punching him right in his smug, beautiful face.

“The public will only eat it up for so long. They have limits, Jared. Testing them isn’t a good idea.”

“I don’t know if anyone told you this, sweetheart, but testing limits is kind of my thing.” The sad part was that he looked all too sincere when he said it, but I wasn’t his psychologist, therapist, or even friend for that matter.

“It’s your career. You made it, and if you want to, you can break it. If you want to keep pushing the limits, then so be it. I’ll be here, doing my job the best that I can, but I can’t keep you from imploding if that’s what you want. Go ahead. Do your worst, and see what happens to your career. Again, it’s yours to ruin if you want.”

He was quiet for a long time, folding his arms and looking at me like I had created the Ebola virus. “You’re a buzz kill, Diamond. Just in case no one has ever told you that.”

“I’ve been told.” A half smile formed on my lips as I remembered the amount of times that Kelly had said those exact same words to me. “It’s not my job to keep you happy, though. I’m sure that you have an entire army full of women dying for that role in your life. It’s my job to make you look good.”

“I always look good,” he said, but his eyes were dark and troubled. “I appreciate that you’re here covering our backs, but again, I don’t need you to make me look good.”