by Angel Devlin
Harlow: Okay, they're done. Now spill.
My phone rang.
"Harlow, babe. Something you want to tell me?"
"About what?"
"You and my Fergy. What have you done to him?"
"Janie. I have no idea what you're talking about. Get to the point, will you?"
She laughed down the line.
"Fergus just stayed through a whole stream of interviews. He never lasts beyond the first two usually without walking out declaring himself bored. He has a reputation of being a dramatic diva. Not only did he stay, but he answered all of the questions, although it could be argued that his attention was not on the journalists. And the biggest shocker of them all—a complete exclusive, should the journos have been paying attention—is that he did not take one single phone number from a female during that whole day."
"And your point is?"
"This is unprecedented, Harlow. He seems to have gotten himself a crush on my bestie."
My heart thudded.
"Don't be ridiculous."
"No? Then why did two of the band ask if there was something going on between the two of you because you couldn't stop staring at each other, and Fergus never left, and never tried to seduce a female in the whole of the day."
"Maybe he felt ill?"
"He felt something, Harls. I do believe my little Fergy is falling for my best friend."
"That's ridiculous. He's obviously just playing a game to get in my pants. It's what he does with PA's, remember?"
"No. He doesn't moon after his conquests. He just orders them to drop their panties and they do. Then he fucks them and fucks off. He doesn't give a damn about them. I don't think he learned half of their names."
"Well, I won't be doing anything with Fergus McDermott. I told you before, his cock needs a bleach bath. Now go and get on with your work; you keep telling me how busy you are."
"You can deny it, babes, but I've seen it with my own eyes."
I hung up and turned around to find Fergus standing behind me. His usual smile was gone, replaced by something I'd never seen and I didn't like. A cocky sneer.
"Can you make sure my bedroom has a drawer full of condoms, and that there's some bleach handy in the bathroom?"
"Fergus. I—"
"You can have the rest of the night off. And tomorrow. I only have rehearsals. I've no need of you. In fact, I don't need you at all. Feck off, Harlow."
And with that he was gone.
Chapter Eight
FERGUS
Well that showed me.
I thought Harlow was different. With her being out of the circus that surrounded me, I'd found her a genuine breath of fresh air.
I'd started to fall for her, and I thought she might have started to like me.
How wrong I was. She thought my dick needed bathing in bleach.
She was probably right.
But right now, it hurt. More than a bleach bath would to my cock I should imagine. So it was time to go back to being Fergus McDermott, rock star. They thought I was a car crash; I might as well act like they expected. I took a bottle of Jack from behind the bar and walked out. One of the journalists from earlier, a perky-titted blonde, was sitting at a table. When she saw me, she smiled coyly and ran a finger around the rim of her cocktail glass. Did she really think I was fooled by the innocent play-acting? She was here for a band member’s cock and an exclusive.
Well, I'd hate to disappoint.
I beckoned her with my finger and asked the bartender for two tumblers.
Chapter Nine
HARLOW
We'd all been assembled in the drawing room. All the band, all the personal assistants, and anyone else connected with Team Blackthorn.
"We're days away from the concert and our guitarist has gone AWOL." Janie hissed. "Has anyone seen anything of him or heard from him?"
No one had.
A felt a heavy stone sensation in the pit of my stomach.
"Harlow? Anything?"
I shook my head. "He was last seen leaving the bar with a blonde. Declan, the bartender, said it was a journalist who'd been hanging around since the interviews."
"Fucking fabulous." Janie snapped.
"He was in a great mood. What happened to change that?" She looked directly at me when she said it and I realized that right now, I was seeing Janie the band promoter, not my friend.
"He overheard me saying his dick needed bathing in bleach."
Seamus snorted and earned a death glare from Janie.
"Okay everyone, carry on rehearsing as normal. Tell me straightaway if you hear from him or see him. I'll get someone on his trail. He must have used a credit card for something. Meantime, I'll contact all the blonde journalists until I find the right one because no doubt I've got to offer a sweetener for the bitch not to blast some exclusive all over the tabloids."
With that she strode out.
I felt gutted. Truth was I'd failed my friend. Not on purpose, but because of what Fergus had overheard, my charge was now missing, no doubt in 'action' and his appearance at the concert was in jeopardy. Maybe it was time to look for an early flight back to New York and leave these people who knew what they were doing to it?
My cell beeped.
Janie: Sorry I had to bust your balls in public. Didn't mean it, sweetie. Can't have the boys thinking I'm going soft though now, can I? He'll turn up, he always does, and when he does, he'll wish his dick being bathed in bleach was all he had to worry about. The spa are expecting you. Go chill before the prodigal son returns, because he'll be a bear with a sore head and a sore cock and guess who'll be in the firing line? Don't take any shit from him. Mwah xo
I didn't feel like going to the spa. I felt like climbing under my comforter and never coming out. But seeing as I didn't think I'd ever afford to enjoy a five-star luxury spa experience ever again, I went to get my swimsuit. Before I went in there, I sent Fergus a text.
Harlow: I'm sorry. You weren't supposed to hear that. BUT, you know I take no shit. You fuck everything that moves and then you fuck them over. That's why I said it and that's why I was brought here in the first place. However, against my better judgment I do actually like you. A LOT. So stop feeling fucking sorry for yourself, get your dick out of whatever pussy it's in, drink copious amounts of coffee, and get back here because the band needs you.
I left my cell in my locker while I went to decompress.
Chapter Ten
FERGUS
I woke in a strange hotel room with a tongue that tasted like I'd licked the carpet. The first thing I noticed was I was alone. The blonde from the night before had gone. The second thing I noticed was an empty bottle of Jack. The third was I was completely naked.
But more worryingly, I remembered nothing. Not coming to this room. Not drinking. Not fucking. I couldn't see a disused condom or two which was usual after a night of drunken debauchery.
Dear fucking God, please don't let me have fucked the journo blonde bare. If I had then my dick really did need bleaching, and I could end up with a kid, with a fucking mother I didn't want.
Then it hit my gut hard as I imagined Harlow with a heavily swelled stomach carrying my baby. What was going on? I'd only met the woman a few days before. I needed counselling. I reckoned I was having a breakdown.
The first thing I needed to do was to find out where the fuck I was and then contact Janie to do damage control.
Grabbing the pad from the side of the bed, I saw I was in The Westbury Hotel. I launched myself out of bed clutching my head and read the note scrawled on the pad as my eyes finally focused.
Hey babe
I would have loved to have experienced bedding a rock star, but you were neither capable, or it would appear… available.
Thanks for the exclusive anyway.
Gina.
What had I done?
I picked up my cell to contact Janie. Jesus Christ, it was half past ten! I saw I had a text.
Harlow: I'm sorry. You weren't supposed to hear
that. BUT, you know I take no shit. You fuck everything that moves and then you fuck them over. That's why I said it and that's why I was brought here in the first place. However, against my better judgment I do actually like you. A LOT. So stop feeling fucking sorry for yourself, get your dick out of whatever pussy it's in, drink copious amounts of coffee, and get back here because the band needs you.
She liked me? A LOT? It was in capital letters. Did that mean as a person a lot; or as a guy, a potential boyfriend, a lot. WHAT DID 'A LOT' MEAN? Fuck, I was growing a vagina.
I hit speed dial on Janie. I needed her help, and I needed it fast.
Chapter Eleven
HARLOW
The spa, once I eventually let it work it's magic on me, gave me hours of bliss. I felt all my worries melt away. What was I getting myself in a state about? I only met Fergus McDermott mere days ago and in another few days I'd be back in New York where he'd be a distant memory.
I had the opportunity of a lifetime to be around a top rock band and be in the wings as they played their concert. I could chat with my heroes and crushes. All I had to do was put up with a diva rock star for a tiny bit longer.
I could do it.
It was worth it.
Walking over to the reception in my bathrobe, I booked myself afternoon tea, followed by a mani-pedi, and then an appointment in the salon for a blow out, or as they called it here a 'wash and blow dry'.
If my charge could go AWOL, so could I.
Later that afternoon, I opened the door of my suite. The room was in darkness. The turn down staff had obviously been in and drawn the drapes. My hair looked amazing, but I was too tired and relaxed to do anything other than fall into my bed. Kicking my shoes off in the doorway, I walked over and flopped onto the comforter.
"Ow."
I jumped out of my skin and began to smack the shit out of my assailant.
"Stop, oh my god, you're really hurting me. Stop!"
My wrists were pinned above my head and then a lamp switched on.
Fergus fucking McDermott.
"What are you doing in my bed?" I screamed at him.
"I came to apologize. I'd texted you and called you for hours and there was no reply, so I came looking for you. I thought you were just blanking me. Only I'd had a bit of a heavy night and so I kind of just well, crawled into your bed.
"How did you get in my room?"
"What can I say? The receptionist loves me and would do anything I asked."
I realized my arms were still pinned above my head and I was mere millimeters away from Fergus' chin stubble. Oh God, he didn't have his shades on either.
"Let go of me."
"Only if you say I'm forgiven for my mardy moment."
"Well, if I had any idea what one of those was."
"Mardy. It means sulking."
"Oh. Well, there's nothing to forgive. I did say your dick needed bathing in bleach."
Said dick that was pressing against my stomach.
He let go of my wrists and I rubbed them as I moved to the side of him.
"For the record. It doesn't. I'm always suited and booted, and I have regular checks. I'm clean."
"It's none of my business."
"Isn't it?"
Was it me or had the energy in the room just charged up?
I moved a bit further away.
"How can it have anything to do with me who you stick your penis in?"
"Because since you arrived here, I haven't slept with anyone, because all I can think about is you. All I want to do is stick my penis in you."
I shook my head and burst out laughing.
Fergus actually blushed. "It sounded a lot more romantic in my head."
"Oh, Fergus. Look, you've just come back from some blonde journalist's bedroom. Am I really supposed to believe that nothing happened?"
"Yes. You are. Because nothing did happen."
I caught the look on his face.
"What aren't you telling me?"
He sighed. "I was upset, and on a mission to live up to my persona. It could have happened. I was just incapable. The journalist left me this note. Look." He passed me a crumpled up piece of paper from the hotel he'd stayed in.
"So, what's her exclusive?"
"I don't know, but I can hazard a guess."
I swear my heart stopped.
"And what would your guess be?"
"That she worked out I'm fucking falling for you. That somehow the wild, bad boy of Blackthorn, is falling in love with his ball-busting personal assistant."
"What did you just say?"
"I'm falling in love with you. Is that clear enough because I do have enough money to have a helicopter fly past with a banner?"
"I-, I-"
"I know it’s a lot to comprehend, and I know you could just think this is one of my lines of seduction, but I'll prove it to you. I'm not going to look in another woman's direction unless I absolutely have to, and I do have to flirt with all the fans, babe. But my dick is going nowhere but staying in my pants. That's if you're willing to get to know me over the days we have remaining before the concert. Then it's up to you, whether you go back to New York, or travel around with me for a while longer. Only the position of PA can be extended… indefinitely.
My mind was swimming with his words. But I needed time to think. To get to know him better. I made myself comfortable. "Order a pizza, will you? I'm starving. And tonight's film is Leap Year.
He smiled at me, and it took me every single piece of control I had, to not leap on him there and then.
The Irish Star
**Exclusive**
IS BLACKTHORN'S WILDEST, FERGUS MCDERMOTT, FINALLY TAMED?
After being invited to interview Blackthorn just prior to their stadium performance at The Dublin Arena, it became apparent very quickly that something strange was afoot with guitarist and sometime vocalist Fergus McDermott. Fergus, 31, whose reputation as the bad boy of Blackthorn, usually resulted in walk-outs partway through interviews: either through taking offence at a question, saying he's bored, or having seduced one of the journalists, stayed throughout my questions.
It was noticeable however that for most of the interview his eyes kept wandering toward his new Personal Assistant, Harlow, 28. Harlow is the best friend of Tour Promoter, Janie Locke, and I have it on good authority she had been brought in to keep Fergus in line for the week, having experience with surviving living with five elder brothers.
At the interview, I believed that Fergus was no doubt just trying to entrance and seduce yet another PA, so when he met me in the bar of the hotel later and invited me for drinks, I wasn’t surprised.
Of course, I couldn't turn down an opportunity for a one on one exclusive and so we settled at The Westbury Hotel with a bottle of scotch and I continued my interview…
This is part of my transcription of that interview:
"So, what's the story with your Personal Assistant? Is she another potential conquest in your long list of many?"
"No, she's not. I'm becoming whipped, aren't I? I think I'm actually in bloody love."
"Really?"
"Yeah, my mam's gonna have a field day. She said one day it'd happen. I told her not to hold her breath. I'm never gonna live this down now. And she doesn't even want me, that's what's worse."
For more of this interview turn to page five…
Chapter Twelve
HARLOW
I'd woken in bed to find I was alone. After the pizza and movie, I’d been tired and Fergus had said he needed to meet with Janie and the rest of the band members, to apologize for the millionth time and sort out his schedule for the next couple of days.
He'd told me he'd text me when he needed me. I reached over for my cell, but there was no message. Well not from Fergus anyway.
Janie: Click this link.
I clicked through and found myself the subject of a public declaration of love from one insane Irishman.
Harlow: OMG
Janie: Do you feel the same way?
I can get him another PA if you don't and pay for your flight home?
Harlow: No. Don't do that.
Janie: Ohhhh myyyyy goddddd.
Harlow: Oh fuck off.
Janie: He's in rehearsals until three pm and then I've ordered him back to his suite to rest…
Harlow: Get me a keycard…
Janie: It's on its way. I'll fuck off and you can fuck… bahahahaha.
Smart ass!
I hauled myself out of bed. My heart beating at what felt like a thousand beats per minute. My blow out still held with a bit of teasing. I placed the complimentary shower cap on my head and threw myself into the shower.
Chapter Thirteen
FERGUS
Well hadn’t I had to endure hours upon hours of endless teasing from Janie and my bandmates. They were in their element ripping the shit out of me.
I let it all ride good-naturedly—another first.
All I could think about was Harlow.
We'd had a great night, just chatting while we watched the movie. Well, she watched the movie. I watched her.
I’d told Janie this morning she needed to call in the physicians, because I didn't want to fuck her best friend. Well, I did, but I also wanted to make love to her.
Janie screamed with laughter and walked away, and I didn't even care.
I made my way back to my suite. I’d given Harlow time off but I was going to see if she wanted to meet tonight and I'd take her out for dinner. There was a Michelin-starred restaurant here that I'd yet to try. I got through the door of my suite and stood for a moment while I sent a text.
Fergus: Could I take you to dinner? I do love our pizza time, but I'd like to spoil you tonight.