She handed me a dish of red stuff. It didn't look like it would make me happy. I took some and tasted it. It was strong but not undelicious. I had some more.
"And rice. You have a lovely figure. It's okay if you eat lots."
I laughed. Again, I didn't follow her logic but it seemed funny to eat just because I had a lovely figure.
Eric-Mama fussed around, making sure we ate enough. Eric seemed to get annoyed with her but I loved it. I just worried she fussed too much and didn't eat anything.
"You have to sit down and eat too. After all you cooked all this delicious food."
But she shook her head. "I can eat any time. I just like seeing you young people eat. Otherwise you just eat junk like McDonalds and get fat."
We all laughed.
"I don't eat McDonalds," said Jack. "It makes me fart."
He grinned at Eric-Mama. His face lit up when he smiled like that and he lost that hard look he normally had in his eyes. It was the first time I’d seen him smile. His entire face changed and the coldness went out of his eyes for a moment. Then he looked at me and the smile disappeared.
"Jackie, we don't talk about those kinds of things at the dinner table."
That just made him grin more, like he'd only said it to get Eric-Mama to chastise him. I could kind of see why. It was nice to have someone caring about what you said.
Then Eric-Mama went into a long story about how she'd made Jack help her make radish kimchi one year and even though he had big muscles, he soon got tired rubbing in all the spices.
"I’m not as strong as you are. You have over 50 years experience of making kimchi."
"Hey, you cheeky kid. Do I look over 50? I look barely old enough to have a son Eric's age. He should call me sister, not mama." Then she laughed a huge belly laugh until we all joined in.
"You have great skin," I told her.
She beamed at me.
"I use special Korean beauty masks. All the famous Korean celebrities using them. They are sheets like this." She put a tissue over her face to show me. "Sometimes Jackie and Eric use them too."
I looked at them, expecting them to deny it but they just looked sheepish.
"So, Hannah. What's a nice girl like you doing managing a band?"
I choked on my kimchi and tried to think of an answer.
"I was studying but figured it'd be better to get some real life experience. There's only so much you can learn at university, you know? Doing actual work gives you more business experience."
"Ah, but having an education is important too." Eric-Mama glared at Eric after saying this and he kept his head down, eating. I figured that was a sore point between them.
"I'll probably go back and finish sometime."
By the time we'd finished, I didn’t think my belly had ever been so full. All that yummy meat and hot pot and so many different things I felt like my mouth was going to explode with the awesomeness of the flavours. I wanted to adopt Eric-Mama and have her cook for me every night.
"Why don't you boys make such happy faces like Hannah?"
Eric laughed. "You really do look happy."
"I love this food. It's the best."
I'd never had a meal where people moaned and groaned over the food and I'd never done it myself but it felt good to express my happiness at eating out loud like that instead of being polite. I'd never sat and patted my belly as it felt tight as a drum after dinner either. Even Eric had loosened the belt on his jeans.
"I'll put some in containers for you to take home with you, if you like."
I wanted to kiss her. I really did want to take some home.
"There's a last bit of pork belly. Do you want it?"
Eric pushed the plate toward me.
"No, I'll explode. Seriously. Well, okay then."
"I've never seen a woman eat like you," said Eric, and even Jack's mouth turned up at the corners.
Eric-Mama disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a whole bag full of food. More than I'd ever be able to fit in my little fridge but I didn't think it'd last long anyway.
"You remember how to get to the train station?" Eric asked.
"No. Hannah can't go home on the train. Jack, you drive her."
Jack shrugged. Obviously he could not think of anything worse than driving me home.
"I'll be fine. It doesn't take long."
Eric-mama shook her head. "It's dangerous for such a pretty girl to be alone at the train station at this time of night. There are a lot of bad people around here and you can't run away because your belly is so full. It won't take Jack very long."
"It'll be an inconvenience for him and I didn't even realise he had a car."
"He has a car. Where do you live?"
I told her.
"See, it will take hours for her to get home by train. And it's cold and dark. You don't want her getting attacked by creeps."
Jack picked up his car keys. "Come on."
I shook my head but Eric-Mama pushed me out the door.
I followed Jack to the garage behind their place.
"This is your car? It's really old."
Jack cocked his eyebrow at me but didn't reply. I guess that came out wrong. I didn't mean old and crappy, but old and wow. I knew nothing about cars but this car must be worth a mint – and cost a mint to drive. The thing was huge and in immaculate condition. The body shone with a red gloss and it had huge fins out the back. It had to be from the '60s or something. When I opened the door, the smell of old leather really hit me. I wondered if Jack had restored it himself.
The drive home didn't take long but we sat in awkward silence. I tried to think of something to say but my mind was a raging pit of blankness. I didn't want to mention the band in case he got snappy again and I couldn't think of anything else we had in common. I wanted to get home and sleep off my food baby but, at the same time, the thought of his thigh so close to mine sent a buzz through my body. These old cars with their bench seats seemed to invite some kind of sin.
He turned on the stereo.
"Do you know this song?" he asked.
"Screw you, dude," I sneered back. "Do you think I’m a moron?"
I might not have known much about music but this was Elvis. Is there a person alive who doesn’t know Elvis?
I curled in my seat and rested my head against the leather. Suddenly, I was eight years old and driving in the car with Dad and Heartbreak Hotel had come on the radio and we’d sang together. I don’t know where we’d been driving to but I’d completely forgotten that time until now, the soft breeze coming in through the car window and the sun making everything outside shine so bright.
"It’s the next left," I said, coming back to the present and realizing I was nearly home.
He pulled over outside.
"You live here?"
"Yeah, I live here. It's cool. And very convenient."
He raised his eyebrow. "Really? And I'm not buying that story about dropping out to get 'real world' experience for a minute. Rich chicks like you don't just drop out of school and move into slummy apartments. Not unless they are playing at being real people."
"I am a real person. Oh, and thanks for the lift home."
I opened the car door and climbed out.
"Umm, Hannah?"
I noticed he called me by name instead of "babes". I don’t know why that made me grin. I ducked my head because I didn't want him to know that made me happy. Instead of answering, he stared at his hands resting on the steering wheel. I couldn't read the expression on his face and waited for some snarky remark.
"Thanks. For organising the gig."
He reached across and shut the door and drove off quickly, leaving me to wonder why I couldn't stop grinning and why my heart was being so stupid.
Chapter 11
So I turned up at the filming location with a heap of clothes I’d begged and borrowed from some very funky designers. All I'd had to say was that we were filming a clip and people happily loaned me stuff. I'd not realised it wo
uld be so easy.
The warehouse buzzed with activity. I’d been expecting a couple of Angie’s friends with some borrowed camera – real low-grade stuff, but this was like walking onto a Hollywood set. I almost swooned looking around the place. Then I nearly got knocked down by a guy carrying a bunch of equipment.
"Sorry, Sorry," he called as he rushed off.
"Where do I –"
He disappeared before I could ask him where to leave the clothes. I'd slung the bags over my shoulder and they were weighing me down. I couldn't see anywhere to set them up, although Angie had told me she'd have an area organised for wardrobe.
There seemed to be about twenty or more people buzzing around. Across the room, a couple of girls set up a bunch of backdrops, while some guys played around with a big metal box of technical-looking equipment. A couple of other guys laid tracks down on the floor.
In the middle of the filming area stood a huge prop that looked like an old pirate ship with cannons and skull and crossbones flags and rope ladders. It even had a network of sails that looked all piratey and authentic.
"Hey you, get up here and help me fix these gels!"
I looked up and saw a dude hanging off some scaffolding. And he wanted me to help him with his gels? Why did he need his nails done? That just seemed blatantly stupid. Maybe he was messing with me. I figured it was best to ignore him.
"Hey, I asked you to help me. Get your arse up here."
I looked around the warehouse to see who he was actually talking to but there was nobody else nearby.
"Yeah, you. What? Are you stupid or something?"
This guy obviously had a death wish. Could he not see that I wore an outfit not made for clambering? High heels and a skin-tight pencil skirt pretty much ruled out climbing up scaffolding.
"God, what are you waiting for? Make yourself useful."
"Oi, Peter. Stop giving orders to Hannah. She’s the band manager not your lackey. Hannah, you have the wardrobe? Awesome sauce. Is it all awesome and pirate? The guys are going to look freaken cool in this clip if it kills me. But what if they get super huge and I can’t even get tickets to see them play? That’d suck. You’ll get me tickets, won’t you Hannah? Promise me, no matter, you’ll get me tickets."
She led me over to some racks in the corner so we could hang the clothes.
"Oh, Jack has to wear this frock coat. Imagine how his broad shoulders will look in it. And he has to wear the ruffly shirt with it with that lace. With his leather pants. Oh my god, I’m getting wet just thinking about it."
"Angie!"
"Well, it’s true. Don’t tell me you aren’t?"
"I’ve told you before –"
"Yeah, yeah. You can say it all you want but I can’t believe any woman would NOT be interested in Jack Colt." She grabbed my wrist and held it between her thumb and finger. "You have a pulse, ergo you must be interested. That’s just science."
I shrugged. There was no talking sense to her. But I loved her enthusiasm for the costumes. Before this filming had finished, that band would be only happy to see the back of me as manager.
"That one would be perfect on Eric. Emphasis his cute shyness."
I nodded. I’d picked out the drawstring shirt with Eric in mind.
"And Spud can wear anything, there’s no hope for him anyway. We can just put him in the back with dim lighting. The band isn’t here yet and I've been running around gangbusters all morning. Come out and have a fag with me until we start."
"I hope they turn up. I have zero faith in Jack Colt."
"You have an agreement with him, right. We worked our arses off getting him that gig." She waved to a guy on the scaffolding as we walked through the warehouse. "They should appreciate what we did for them. They should buy us dinner at a romantic restaurant and flowers and all that kind of thing and Jack Colt should get down on his knees and thank us."
"Not really. It was Frank."
"Yeah, but those bloody kids rolled our tree frog outfits when we took off after jerk face and that was a whole shit fight."
We’d completely forgotten about the bag with our costumes and the posters until later and, when we’d gone back to get them, they'd been stolen. Angie and I had searched the streets but nothing had turned up.
"I'd have made sure they were stolen long ago if I'd thought of it."
She laughed.
We stepped out onto the street and she huddled in a doorway to light her cigarette.
"You are looking smoking hot today. Any particular reason? Huh? Huh?" She nudged me and grinned.
I thought so too but hadn't wanted to say it. Angie wore a pair of short shorts with striped tights and she'd added blue to the green in her hair. She looked pretty hot herself. In a grungy kind of way.
"No reason at all."
Angie thought too much about flirting with the band and not enough about making money from them but still, I didn’t know what I’d do without her.
We went back inside and the guys had arrived. Jack Colt stood to one side while three of the girls talked to him and flicked their hair. For a moment, my stomach clenched tight. Bimbos.
Angie clapped her hands loudly, getting their attention.
"Back to work, girls. No time for standing around chatting. You guys, get to makeup."
"Makeup? No way." Jack glared at us.
"It's part of the process. You need to look good on film and those lights will show up every imperfection."
"I don't think he has any imperfections," one of the girls said.
Angie shot her a look to silence her.
"It's not optional," she said and pushed them towards the makeup area.
I didn't really have much to do, so I found a spot out of the way and settled down to watch.
A little while later, Jack Colt returned. I don't know what that makeup artist had done but he looked hot. Super hot. As he walked toward me, my legs turned to jelly. That was stupid. He was still the same person but I'd never noticed how sculptured his cheekbones were and the dazzling intensity of his eyes was even brighter with all that eyeliner.
I called him over so we could get started on the costumes.
"You want me to wear what?"
I'd held up the velvet coat jacket. It was the perfect blend of pirate and on-trend. The designer had been an absolute doll and I thought the clothes were perfect for the look we wanted.
"I'm the manager. You wear it."
"I said I'd do the video, I didn't say I'd dress up like an idiot." Those eyes flashed at me and for an instant, I wanted to back down and agree to anything he said, just so I could get to see his smile again.
Then I realised that would be letting him win. Why couldn't he do as I asked without it becoming a thing? Maybe I needed to push him more, make him realise that life would be hell with me in charge.
"It's part of the image."
"I have no image."
"You didn't. You do now."
I held out the jacket, waiting for him to take it. Instead he walked away.
Screw that. I was sick of him and the way he walked away or brushed off everything I said.
I ran after him and blocked his way, crossing my arms and staring him down.
"Is this how you treat everything you don't agree with in life? Walking off and not even discussing it? Maybe that's a big part of your problem."
He tried to brush me aside.
"No. Let's talk about this. What do you want? Tell me, instead of just ignoring everything I say."
"I didn't think you cared about what I want. You turn up and tell us you’re in charge now. In charge of our band. Now you want us to have an image. What makes you think we want any of this?"
"Well, what do you want? You don't talk to me. You ignore me when I try to discuss the band, so how do I take your wishes into account when I have no bloody idea what they are?"
I stood with my hands on my hips waiting for him to respond. But he said nothing; he just stared at me like I was some kind of freak. I trembled a lit
tle inside but I had no intention of letting him see that.
"Look, Jack, it's a video clip. You just need to act out a part. We've got this whole team of people here waiting for you get to work. You don't want to waste their time, do you? They are all here working for free so that we can get this done and you are acting like some spoilt little prima donna. And you say I'm a princess!"
He didn't answer but he strode back into the warehouse and grabbed the clothes off the rack. I pointed to the change room Angie had rigged up with a sheet but he ignored me and pulled his t-shirt off.
The room went quiet as every head turned toward him. I had figured he had a good body, he didn’t try to disguise with those tight t-shirts he wore, but seeing him half-naked was something else altogether. The muscles down his back rippled as he raised his arms to put the shirt on and the light reflected off his skin, giving it a magical sheen.
I couldn’t look away, even though I wanted to ignore what his naked back did to my insides. All the air had been sucked out of the room and everything disappeared except those hard muscles. My fingers twitched to reach out and touch him, to trace the line of his hard shoulders down to that delicious curve of his arm and around his shoulder blade. I wanted to flick my tongue into that tasty indentation.
Then he unzipped his jeans.
I willed myself to look away, to remember what a jerk he’d been, but his thumbs had hooked around the belt loops and he slowly lowered his jeans, exposing the white fabric of his jocks beneath.
He bent over slightly and my vision was filled with that perfect curve of butt. The hollow where the curve started, that space, it belonged to a woman’s hands. Holding him as he rose above her in that moment just before he thrust inside.
"Hannah, close your mouth. You’re drooling." Angie slapped me the arm. "I know exactly what you are thinking."
I shook myself about to deny it but I could feel the flush in my face and the heat rising through my body. I didn’t want to meet her eyes because I knew she’d see something primal there. A part of me I didn’t even know existed.
"Let's get started then." Angie tried to sound all business but she turned to me and motioned fanning herself.
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