“Really? What has she said?” I asked. Cole hadn’t mentioned anything about tension or problems on the tour. But maybe that explained his sudden clingy need to call every day.
Gracie shrugged. “She hasn’t said much, just that the guys have been at each others’ throats a bit more than normal. Apparently the radio interview didn’t go that well.”
That shocked me. I had gotten the impression from Cole that it had been really good. Their airplay and visibility was rising considerable.
“Really?”
Gracie nodded. “Yeah, this DJ chick only wanted to ask Cole questions. She pretty much ignored the rest of the guys. And you know that went down like a lead balloon with Jordan particularly. They had a huge fight and Maysie thought security at the radio station was going to call the cops.”
I was in total recoil. Not that some DJ lady wanted to focus on Cole but the fact that Maysie was picking up on so much bad blood. I knew Cole and Jordan had a contentious relationship. You couldn’t necessarily call them “friends” but they got on well enough when it came to their music. And both of them put their feelings aside for their music. This was not good at all.
“Maysie said this is becoming more and more of the norm. Their publicity photo shoot ended up being a Cole Brandt wank fest. They took some shots of the band but I guess the record label had asked for a bunch of pictures with just Cole. Seems they’re pushing him as the face of the band. This time it wasn’t just Jordan that had the problem. Apparently Mitch wasn’t too happy with it either. I asked him about it but he didn’t seem to want to talk about it. Maysie says that it’s causing a huge division in the group. Jose, their manager keeps suggesting that they beef up Cole’s vocals; he wants Jordan to cut his drum solos. They’ve even changed the sets and have cut all the songs where anyone else sings. And Cole doesn’t see what the big deal is. Maysie is spending all of her time trying to convince Jordan not to quit.”
I wasn’t entirely surprised that the label would want to push Cole forward for increasing publicity. He was hot. He was sexy. He made girls drop their panties in less time it took for him to get their names.
He was a hell of singer. He was talented. He was a bad boy. He was the entire freaking package.
And those very things are what made me want to simultaneously kiss him senseless and bash his brains in.
Cole’s ego, when unchecked, was a dangerous thing. I had seen it firsthand. I was often on the receiving end of his insensitivity. But I never thought he’d allow anything to mess up his band.
Cole clearly needed a hard smack in the face.
“Yeah, okay, I’ll go. I’ll make sure things are square at work. Figure out the hotel details and I’ll give you the money,” I said, knowing my earlier excuses had been feeble at best.
Of course I’d go.
Cutest doormat in Bakersville, remember?
“Okay, I’ll let you know.” Gracie looked at her watch. “Shouldn’t Miss-Productive-Member-Of-Society be getting to work?” she asked.
I checked the time on my cell phone and almost freaked. I had ten minutes to get to work.
“Crap, crap, crap!” I jumped to my feet and grabbed my purse, barely saying goodbye as I ran out the door.
Why is it when you’re running late, that it is the perfect time for everything to go spectacularly and splendidly wrong?
My car wouldn’t start.
I sat in the driver’s seat, turning the key, hoping the clicking noise was only in my imagination and that my engine would magically turn over.
Nope. It was dead as a doornail.
I got out of my car and screamed at the top of my lungs. A woman getting into her perfectly working car gave me a strange look and I gave her the middle finger. Bitch with her shiny Acura that started so damn easily. I bet she was on time for work.
I pulled out my phone and called a cab. They said they’d be there in ten minutes.
It took them fifteen.
I gave the driver my best stink eye as I climbed into the back.
Then we hit roadwork then there was an accident on the highway.
By the time I got to work, I was forty-five minutes late and in a really bad mood.
I ran to the entrance of The Claremont Center just as the heavy wooden door swung open and hit me right in the face.
My purse flew into the air, my cellphone fell to the ground, smashing into a thousand pieces while my nose started hemorrhaging blood all over my adorable pink sweater.
“Fucking hell!” I screeched, covering my nose as blood dripped through my fingers.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” a voice said, shoving tissues into my hand. I didn’t look up as I snatched the tissues and pressed them to my bloody nose.
“What sort of moron swings open a door like that? It’s not that heavy! Are you stupid as well as an asshole?” I seethed. My nose was throbbing. I gingerly touched it, hoping it wasn’t broken.
“You should get that looked at.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” I hissed, finally looking up into the face of my one and only client.
Theo Anderson.
Because of course he would be the moron to smash me with a door.
Theo’s gorgeous face was contrite and concerned and I vainly started to freak out about what I must look like. I looked down at my blood-splattered sweater and would have cringed if only it didn’t hurt so badly.
“Uh, sorry about the verbal assault. You’re not a moron,” I apologized.
“I deserved it. It’s fine,” Theo smiled, his pretty eyes crinkling at the edges. He really was nice to look at. I would have enjoyed it more if I weren’t in total agony.
Busted nose aside, I really wish I could dig myself a hole and climb into it.
“I’ll go get Marion. You should come in and sit down. Pinch the bridge of your nose and lean forward. We need to get you to the hospital. It may be broken.” Theo in all of his hot efficiency went to locate my boss and also found ice in the employee break room. He brought both Marion and an ice pack back in less than three minutes.
Marion agreed with Theo in that I should go and have my nose checked out. She offered to drive me but Theo was insistent he take me.
“It’s my fault after all,” he said and I nodded because hell yeah it was his fault.
While Theo grabbed his coat and briefcase, I pulled my compact out of my purse and tried to straighten my hair.
I may have a possible broken nose, but I had my priorities after all and damned if I wouldn’t try to look my best given the situation.
Theo ushered me out to his car, a black beast of thing that I needed help to climb into. And I totally caught him checking out my ass as he lifted me into his Hummer.
I gave it an extra little shake, just for good measure, before depositing myself into the passenger seat. I was never one to waste an opportunity to be ogled.
Theo went around to the driver’s side and soon we were headed toward Bakersville General.
“I’m really sorry! I should have pushed the door open with a little less enthusiasm,” Theo apologized for the millionth time.
“I’m sure my face will be just fine,” I offered, still a little annoyed. But it was hard to hold anything against someone who was so sincere in their regret. Theo Anderson was a seriously nice guy.
He looked at me briefly, a soft smile on his face. He really was too pretty to be real. Cole was good-looking in a savage, rough and tumble sort of way. He was the kind of hot that made you fearful for your sanity.
Theo was good-looking in a way that was both safe and reassuring. He was the sort of gorgeous that made the perfect arm candy and looked great on Christmas cards. His was the kind of face that made you think about merging your DNA because you just knew your children would be unbelievable.
“I sure hope so. I’d never forgive myself if I did anything to mess up that beautiful face.”
Oh he was good. He was smooth without being obvious about it. He gave the compliment with just enough reserve th
at you’d never know he was flirting with you.
He cast a quick glance in my direction and I found myself preening, despite the wads of bloodied tissue I held against my nose.
I fluffed my hair a bit and stuck out my chest. I smoothed the lines of my skirt over my thighs and I noticed Theo’s eyes flickering to my legs. He swallowed and I knew he appreciated what he saw.
I was a woman who knew when a man thought her attractive. I was by no means oblivious and I didn’t like to pretend I didn’t know when I was being given the full body perusal.
I was also a firm believer in coquettishness and eye batting. My low cut blouses, tight fitting sweaters, and short skirts were the fiercest weapons in my arsenal.
I liked the attention and I enjoyed being the center of anyone’s interest.
Theo’s shy interest was more fulfilling than a seven layer chocolate cake.
The air in the car was thick and I could taste the delicious tension. It had been a long time since I felt a sexual spark with anyone that wasn’t a certain tattooed lead singer. After my fizzling disaster with Lambert, I was beginning to think that Cole had broken me. That he had taken my desire and kept it all for himself like the greedy bastard he was.
I felt myself blush under Theo’s gaze and thought to myself,
Maybe not…
“I think at the very least, I need to buy you a new phone,” he said, indicating the shattered pieces of my iPhone in my lap, killing the moment.
“That’s okay, Theo. It’s on warranty,” I said, waving off his offer.
Theo shook his head. “No, I’m the reason it’s busted. It’s the least I can do.”
“Who am I to argue with such chivalry?” I murmured, maneuvering my body so that it angled toward him, distracting him with my curves.
He gripped the steering wheel and swallowed again.
Being desired was a heady feeling. It was addictive. And with everything going on with Cole recently, I could use a new sort of rush. I needed something to distract me from my uncomfortably evolving emotions.
“I don’t think smashing your nose with a door is an example of chivalry. Bad timing perhaps, but definitely not chivalry.” Theo’s self-deprecating comment was remarkably endearing.
He chanced a glance at my legs again, his eyes lingering. Until a horn blasted and he had to swerve back into his lane. I tried to hide my self-satisfied grin as Theo kept his eyes resolutely on the road after that.
Taking pity on the poor guy, I turned toward the window and pulled my jacket around my chest. It was the least I could do to ensure we got to the hospital in one piece.
“What were you doing at The Center so early? Did we have a meeting?” I asked, hoping I hadn’t forgotten to write it down. Given the morning I had been having, it wouldn’t surprise me. And my flakiness wouldn’t go far in helping me project that whole responsible vibe I was really going for.
Theo shook his head. “No, I was just thinking about you last night and had some ideas I wanted to toss your way about the gala. I wanted to get your opinion.”
I grinned again and then wished I hadn’t. My nose throbbed. But I couldn’t help but teasing him anyway.
“You were thinking about me last night? Why Mr. Anderson, I’m not sure that’s entirely appropriate. You’re my client after all,” I remarked, affecting a thick southern drawl.
I was rewarded by the noticeable flush that quickly rose to Theo’s cheeks.
He cleared his throat and gave me a shaky smile. “I just meant that I was thinking of things to tell you. I didn’t mean, I'm sorry, I just. . .” he was fumbling. It was ridiculously adorable. And I let him stumble around for a bit before I came to his rescue.
“I was just giving you a hard time, Theo. I knew what you meant,” I reassured him and he relaxed a bit. For being such a fantastic example of the male species, Theo Anderson lacked a lot of confidence.
Theo relaxed and gave me a much easier smile. “You’re a bit of a ball buster aren’t you?” he asked, taking his turn to tease.
“I was voted Most Likely to Squeeze a Man’s Nuts in school,” I joked.
Theo laughed and the sexual tension eased somewhat.
We pulled into the Emergency Room parking lot and Theo hurried around to my side of the car and let me out. He started walking me toward the entrance when I put my hand on his sleeve.
“You don’t need to go in with me. I’m a big girl.”
Theo’s eyes were warm as he looked down at me. “I have no doubt, Vivian. But I want to wait with you,” he said.
Before I could argue, he was already walking me toward the hospital.
And true to his word, Theo waited with me for the two and half hours it took for me to be seen. I kept telling him to leave. I felt guilty he was giving up his morning to hang out in a waiting room.
Theo pulled a manila folder out of his briefcase and handed it to me. My nose had finally stopped bleeding so I wasn’t in danger of dripping blood all over the place.
“Well, let’s do some work then,” he suggested, pulling out some printouts for me to look at.
“This is beautiful,” I said, looking at the picture of a ballroom decorated in rich blues and greens in a rendition of a sea scene.
“We always go for something that has to do with our charity. Last year the theme was Our Endangered Environment. The girl who had the job before you had decorated the place like an Amazon jungle. It was horrible. It looked like a kid’s birthday party. We almost didn’t come back to The Claremont for this year’s gala,” Theo shared, cringing.
He pulled out pictures of last year’s party and he was right, it was laughable. Green vines and fake flowers had been everywhere. It was hard to be taken seriously when your main fundraiser looked as though it had been organized by a six year old. What had this girl been thinking?
Theo pointed to the printouts he had handed me. “Now something like that could be cool, don’t you think?” he asked and I looked up at him and smiled as much as my aching face would allow. I was still all too aware of how repulsive I looked, but it didn’t seem to bother him. His grin was contagious.
“I think it could be amazing. In keeping in line with these ideas and the mission of your charity, what if the theme was Our Fading Blue? With an emphasis on rising sea levels and melting icecaps,” I suggested. I pulled a pencil out of my purse and started drawing over top the printout.
“The color scheme would be blues and whites and silvers. Lights and crystals hanging from the ceiling. Winter flowers in tasteful vases with prisms throwing rainbows on the tables and walls. Something like this.” I doodled some rough ideas and showed them to him.
Theo pondered over it for a minute before his lips turned upward into a pleased smile. “This is perfect. These ideas are incredible! Do you think this can be pulled off?” he asked and I gave him my best bitch, please look.
“If there’s one thing I know how to do, Theo, it’s throw a damn good party,” I told him.
“You’re pretty amazing, you know that?” he said, his smile never wavering and my stomach flipped over.
It was on the tip of my tongue to say “Damn straight,” in order to lighten the moment. To give it levity so it didn’t have the power to make me feel all bubbly inside. But the sincerity in his eyes gave me pause.
I couldn’t remember the last time I had been assessed with such blatant appreciation, not only for my face and my body, but also for my mind.
Certainly Cole had never cared much for my ideas and thoughts. He was too busy chasing me around with his penis.
Even with his recent interest in things outside of our rampant sex life, he had never looked at me like that.
Like I was incredible.
Like I was capable.
Like I held the answers to every question he could ever possibly ask.
And I realized that no matter how nice it was Theo wasn’t the man I wanted to look at me that way.
Another example of the Cole Brandt vag block.
&n
bsp; “Thanks,” I said, with a lot more modesty that was normal for me.
“Vivian Baily,” a nurse finally called out.
I gathered my purse and jacket and got to my feet. “Thanks for waiting with me Theo, I’ll give you a call when I get back to the office and we can set up a time to go over some more details,” I said.
Theo got to his feet as well. “I’m not going anywhere, Vivian. I’ll be here when you’re done. You’ll need a ride back to work won’t you?” he asked and shook his head before I could argue with him.
I wasn’t used to Prince Charmings saving my day. It would have been awesome.
Except I was all too aware that Prince Charming wasn’t my style.
I preferred the bad guy, which would only end up destroying me in the end.
Because that’s how those stories tended to end up.
With the damsel in distress tied to the train track.
“You broke your nose?” I asked, stretching my legs out in my bunk. We were back on the road after our show in Detroit. We were heading to Cincinnati next. And then next week we’d be on the east coast again. I couldn’t wait to be closer to home. Even though we didn’t have any gigs slated for Virginia for several months.
“Am I gonna have to brown bag you the next time we fuck?” I asked crudely. I know you’re probably thinking I was being an asshole. That I deserved a kick to the dick for such a rude comment. But I could say shit like that to Viv because she wouldn’t take it seriously. She knew I didn’t mean it. It was how we rolled.
Or maybe not.
“That’s a really messed up thing to say, Cole,” she said quietly and I instantly felt like a jerk.
“I didn’t mean it, baby. You know I think you’re beautiful. Junked up nose or not,” I promised.
“You are such a fuck face,” Vivian said with venom. I thought I’d been pretty nice. What was her problem?
“And I didn’t break it. It’s just bruised. A little swollen. No brown bag necessary.” She sounded pissed, which wasn’t new. And normally I’d goad her a little, just to get the explosion I liked so much. But something felt off about her.
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