by Ivy Harper
I shuddered. “He wouldn’t?”
“He hasn’t yet, but he sure as fuck had the security team put an announcement out two weeks ago. And we got so overwhelmed with applications in under twenty-four hours we had to take the announcement down. We didn’t even mention your band, just that JS Records needed new security,” Chelsea answered smugly.
“That motherfucker,” I glared at the phone. “When are the interviews?”
“I’ll tell you everything you want to know when you come back home,” she said.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Tak.” I hung up the phone and glared at Rhet.
“I’ll remember this.”
He smirked. “Good, now get the fuck out.”
Jazz
* * *
Sitting at my computer desk in my room, I scrolled through the most recent posts from JS Records. It had been two weeks and I was starting to lose hope, not to mention Tak was in hiding so I wasn’t sure how much I could learn with him off the grid. However, since they’d taken the announcement down and with Tak’s disappearance, the fan forum boards had been filled with conspiracy theories.
Some fans believed Tak had given it all up and secretly retired from the pressure. Others believed the sudden hiring of security at the company involved Tak’s stint in the hospital. Which led to speculation about what exactly had put Tak in the hospital to begin with.
The most popular theory was that he’d been attacked by an overzealous fan. The least popular theory was Tak had attempted suicide which unfortunately, had been the narrative that had caught the media’s attention.
Since I knew the real reason he’d gone to the hospital I ignored most of it. My anxiety was solely built around the fact he was still missing and I still hadn’t gotten anything other than a confirmation email about the job.
I was just about to watch another compilation video of Rejected One’s best moments in concert when I heard my apartment door open.
“This is the reason living with you is a problem,” I said, already knowing who it was entering my place. I turned my seat around to meet Trisha’s excited face.
Her eager gaze turned into a glare. “I wasn’t the one who pushed the idea for all of us to live together.”
“If I could go back, I’d keep my mouth shut,” I said, not meaning it. “But if Uncle Carter hadn’t been worried about you, I wouldn’t have suggested it.”
Uncle Carter was my disowned aunt’s husband. My grandfather hadn’t approved of his business and had immediately ended his relationship with my aunt when she’d insisted on marrying him. Ironically, that had worked in my favor when I’d run away from home after I recovered from my shock-induced emotional coma. Clark Bennington could only gnash his teeth in frustration as my uncle ensured he couldn’t reach me.
My aunt, uncle, and cousins were a blessing. The family I never thought I had before I turned up on their doorstep. They showed me what family was really supposed to be like.
It was because of that me and my cousins bought three attached brownstones and renovated them, turning them into one large home. Which is why it was extremely hard to have full privacy. Especially when it involved the intrusive Trisha.
“Is that how you feel? Fine, I won’t tell you that one of the fans posted that not only has Tak reappeared, but JS Records has started sending out the times for the interviews.”
“What?” I stood, knocking my chair back.
She gave me a coy look. “No, it’s okay. Go back to watching your precious Tak Jensei through a screen.”
“Trisha, don’t make me put you in a headlock,” I threatened as I took a step toward her.
Huffing, she tossed her tablet to me. I caught it and Googled Tak sighting. Right away, new images popped up. With a squeal, I quickly logged in to my email to see if I’d gotten one from JS Records. Spotting it, I couldn’t help but exclaim.
“Are you kidding me?”
She laughed. “It looks like their posting the job opening wasn’t a mistake at all. Your chances of running into your favorite singer has increased.”
I read over the information and spotted the date of the interview. “The chances may have increased, but it’s not likely.”
She walked over to my side and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “You have to be positive minded about this. Imagine it. You’re standing in the hallway as he passes by with those long legs, delicious body, and rock and roll swag.” She placed her other hand on my other shoulder and turned me around so I faced her fully.
“Jazzy, you can find out what Tak Jensei smells like for the community. We need to know if he wears Axe or is he a Prada man.”
“What about finding his would-be killers?” I asked.
She waved me off. “Semantics.”
Both of us shared a look before we started screaming like the Rejected One fans we were.
“What are you two screaming about?” Zeno, Trisha’s brother demanded from my doorway, his expression disgruntled.
I could tell from the heavy bags under his eyes he’d just gotten back from being out all night. Probably working with Uncle Carter on something. The less one knew about what Zeno did at night, the better. Realizing Trisha had left my apartment door open I shot her a look out of the corner of my eye.
Seeing it, she stepped forward to quickly explain. “Nothing big, Jazz just got a limited edition of Rejected One’s album.”
He shook his head. “You two are crazy. Isn’t it about time you both focused on getting a boyfriend or something?”
Trisha rolled her eyes. “I don’t even know how we’re related. Way to sound like a chauvinist male, Zeno.”
Zeno ignored her and turned his attention on me. “Jazz, Dad said he’s thinking Clark’s up to something. He’s been associating with too many people of the crooked variety lately. He wanted me to give you a heads-up about it, but he also said not to worry. He’s got his eyes on it.”
The excitement from earlier disappeared as I listened to Zeno.
“Zeno, you’re timing really fucking sucks,” Trisha said, anger clear in her voice.
“I just wanted to let her know she doesn’t need to worry about anything,” he said. “Dad promised this will be the last few months you’ll have to deal with Clark.”
“Okay, tell him I appreciate it.”
“Jazz,” Trisha called, clearly feeling bad for me.
I waved her off as I continued to speak. “Tell Uncle I’ll text him later.”
He tapped the doorjamb. “Got it.” And with that, he left.
Trisha ran and shut the door to my apartment before she returned to me. “Are you really okay?”
“I am. Besides, don’t I have bigger fish to fry, or did you forget about the interview already?”
Trisha’s expression went from anger to excitement. “You’re right, I can’t believe you got selected. If you don’t get the job, there is no justice in this world.”
My only goal was to save Tak, so if I got the job great. Otherwise, I’d simply have to think of another way to save him.
Chapter 7
Job
Jazz
* * *
Two days later, I sat in a cold AC-filled hallway that was in sharp contrast to the hot summery weather of Vander City outside. Sitting in a confining chair, I lightly rocked back and forth trying to warm myself up a bit from being inside for too long. I looked at the line of applicants seated along the wall who were dressed like me.
Their business attire black and white and expressions tense as if their lives depended on this single moment. Everything rested on them passing the interview. I bit my lip, feeling like an imposter. I reached up and brushed the back of my neck. My newly cut hair something I was still getting used to.
What was I thinking? I shouldn’t have applied. The two double doors across from us were all that separated us from the people who’d decide our fate.
I avoided looking directly at them as if the people behind the steel doors would sense my nervou
s glances. Tapping the toe of my heel against the carpeted floor, I couldn’t kill the desire for gum. I seriously needed something to chew on.
The entire process stirred a level of stress I’d never thought I’d have to endure. The doors clicked before they were opened as a woman came forward. Her tight figure was wrapped in a pink silk shirt and a dark tan skirt.
Her hair was in a close pixie cut, dyed platinum. Her eyes were cat-like. She looked over us.
“Numbers eleven thru fifteen, please come forward.” Her smooth voice had a slight country lilt that was quaint in comparison to her appearance. “It’s your turn.”
Rising swiftly, I mentally cursed when the papers on my lap slipped down, hitting the floor. Quickly, I bent over and grabbed them up before rushing forward. The woman eyed me before turning her attention to the other candidates who entered.
Pressing a hand against my chest, I followed them inside and took a free chair at the end. It squeaked. For some reason, it sounded louder than any of the other squeaking chairs. Straightening, I eyed the people who were seated before me.
The woman walked around the long table and took a seat next to a lean male who wore wire glasses. His dark gray eyes were focused on the packets laid out in front of him. He tapped one, his lips pursed as he brushed a hand along the lapel of his dark blue suit jacket.
Another older gentleman who had the bearing of a soldier sat next to him. The man in the blue suit lifted his gaze to look us over. He introduced himself once we’d settled in our seats.
“Hello, I am Kole Stone, JS’s CEO. As some of you have heard my label has recently suffered from a scandal due to one of our artists. I’m looking to increase the security at my label.
“In particular we’re looking for someone to work one-on-one with one of our artists.” The tension immediately climbed at his words. “I don’t expect an exemplary education, but I don’t like liars.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. His voice drew tight before he released a sigh. He cleared his throat.
“I’m going to ask a single question, don’t waste our time by trying to impress us, just be honest. What do you think we should change in order to protect our artists from others and their selves? If you answer in a way that satisfies me, I’ll let you stay, otherwise.” He motioned toward the door. “You’ll be asked to leave immediately.”
There hadn’t been mention of a quiz on the application or on the site.
“Sir, I would reduce the time they spend alone without supervision,” one applicant volunteered. His chest lifted and expression serious. “As their handler, I would ensure they were never alone.”
“And if they’re a female? Will you enter the bathroom with them?”
The guy blanched at Kole’s question. Seeing his failure, the others quickly raised their hands. Many offering similar words.
The artists should be watched, and their time strictly regulated. The more they offered, I couldn’t help losing more and more confidence. A part of me felt silly for being here, but I couldn’t leave now. I’d stepped out of my comfort zone to be here.
“You.”
I quickly lifted my gaze from my lap to the people at the table, I widened my eyes when I was met with the serious stare of the man interviewing us. He looked down at the folders on the desk before turning back to me.
“Ms. Ryland, right? You’ve not offered anything, what would you do?”
Feeling out of place, I glanced at the others who looked at me with a mixture of annoyance, irritation, and impatience. My mind blank, I blurted the first thought that came to me. “B… be their friend.”
“Ha.” The girl next to me released a laugh. “Seriously, they don’t need a friend. They have plenty of friends, famous ones. How can you be a friend with them and protect them at the same time? We’re not here to play, we’re security.”
Stiffening, I lifted my chin. Since I had said the words, I wasn’t going to back down now. “I’m saying that if you treat them less like a duty or obligation, they will warm up to you and willingly come to you when they are emotionally stressed or troubled.”
Feeling more confident as the man across from us hadn’t interrupted me, I continued. “I’m saying, if I’m going to be there for every waking minute of their life, the least I can do is let them know I see them as them and not a poster.”
“Pfft, why not make them hold hands and sing kumbaya while you’re at it,” a guy at the end said rudely.
I curled my hands into fists in my lap. “I could do that and still hand you your ass on the mat,” I retorted only to remember where I was a minute later. “Well, that’s what I think.”
“Hmm.” Kole tapped the table before looking away from me to the woman who sat next to him. “He definitely needs a friend, but he isn’t exactly the friendly type. What do you think, Chelsea?”
The woman with the pixie cut quirked a brow. Her lips lifting at the corners as she tilted her head to the right. “He has more fuck friends than he does friends.” She stood, grabbing her cell from the table. “But I’m always down with being amused.” She turned her attention to me. “Hey, can you cook?”
“Y… yeah, I mean, I do well enough for myself.”
She nodded, tapping away on her phone as she walked around the table. “What do you think about having casual sex with your client?”
I frowned. “I think it’s unprofessional.”
“What if they swear they’re in love with you?” This time she met my eyes and her steady tapping stopped. “Stars have a habit of confessing love to get what they want. No matter what they say though, it’s nothing more than a casual fuck to them. At the end of the day, you’re the one who suffers from their one night of fun.”
I tried to control my features, but my displeasure slipped through. What exactly did she think of me for her to continuously press me on the subject? I had no intention of sleeping with anyone I guarded.
I must have been silent for too long as she returned her eyes to her phone as she spoke. “I’m not attacking you. We’ve had a few issues in the past despite their being a clear clause in the contract about not fraternizing with the artists, but your reaction tells me everything I need to know.” She hummed as she continued typing. “Okay, so I want you to show up to this place in two days, after you’re finished with HR.”
My phone vibrated in my suit coat pocket. I couldn’t believe how quickly everything was moving. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my cell. Thankfully I’d taken off the usual case it resided in—a well-crafted rhinestone work of art of Tak’s face surrounded by hearts. Looking from the text to her, I couldn’t help asking. “A… are you saying I’m hired?”
She smiled, but it wasn’t a kind one. It felt like it was used to deal with stupid questions. “I don’t know what Kole’s thinking, but if he wants to hire you.” She shrugged, crossing her arms. “I can’t say anyone will be expecting a woman, but it will be amusing to watch what Tak does with you.”
Everyone in the room sucked in a quick breath. On my part, my heart pounded so hard I could barely hear anything else. “T… T… Tak,” I blurted, my mouth suddenly dry. I couldn’t believe it. My hands were sweating.
The job announcement hadn’t stated a specific artist. It had been broad and even when Mr. Stone had spoken, he hadn’t mentioned Tak. Chelsea smirked.
“The rest are going that way, but you, my dear, are special.” She turned away from me and spoke to Kole.
Facing me once more, she nodded. “JS Records’ CEO wants to put you with Tak and I can’t argue. See you then.” Without another word, she walked out of the room, leaving my mind in chaos.
For a moment, I wasn’t sure it was real. I wanted to pinch myself, but that wouldn’t be professional. Mr. Kole stood and motioned to the man beside him.
“Mr. Brooker will sort through the rest of you, and Ms. Ryland?”
I jumped in my chair, before standing. “Yes.”
“You may leave.”
I glanced at th
e others, seeing the annoyance and envy in their eyes. I wanted to dance, but I held myself together and gave a small nod. “Yes, sir.”
I grabbed up my purse and turned quickly to leave the room, walking out into the hallway. I leaned against the door, staring into space in disbelief. Had I seriously gotten the job to guard Tak?
Looking up and down the hallway and seeing no one, I released an excited shriek. “Yes.”
Chapter 8
No Babysitters
Tak
* * *
Of all the shit I could be doing with my Thursday morning, I was storming into JS Records ready to kill. I walked out of the elevator, I didn’t greet the secretary who sat behind the desk, nor did I pause as she clumsily tried to stand. Walking past her, I went straight to the door, drew back my foot, and kicked it in.
“Where’s that fucker Kole?” I yelled, stopping at the sight of Kole with a woman in his lap. Twisting my lips, I held back my amused smile. “Ah-ah, now aren’t we already working on your big bag of sexual harassment cases?” I asked, crossing my arms as I peered down at them. “I wonder what our shareholders would think of this side of you?”
The woman hopped out of his lap. I appreciated the sight of her breasts jiggling as she attempted to cover them and grab her clothes up at the same time. “Don’t rush on my account, continue on.” I turned, moving toward the door. “I’ll explain to your secretary that you’re too busy fucking the staff to—”
“Tak,” Kole called in warning.
I glanced over my shoulder, feigning innocence. “Hmm?”
Kole stood, the fucker had already fixed his shirt and tie. He focused his cold eyes on me from behind his glasses. I couldn’t understand why women wanted to fuck him. He looked like a fucking nerd.