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Give Me Strength

Page 7

by Kate McCarthy


  Letting myself in with the key that had been in the envelope, I called out hello. My feet echoed along the timber flooring as I headed towards the back office, not hearing a response.

  Already the business line was ringing, so I answered it, sinking into the chair as someone spoke to me about the proofs for Jamieson’s album artwork. Of course I had no idea, so I switched on the computer and promised to return the call. From then on the phone didn’t stop, and it wasn’t until I heard a tap on the open door that I realised two hours had passed.

  Returning from the printer behind me, I was just sitting in my chair and glanced up. For a split second I thought it was Travis and completely missed the seat, falling to the floor with a hard jolt.

  “Oh shit.” Laughter bubbled out of him, and he quickly subdued it, taking in the wild flush to my cheeks. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

  He strode over and held out a hand to help me up.

  “That’s okay. Seems I startle easily,” I replied, taking his hand and stumbling awkwardly to my feet.

  “I’m Jared,” he told me. “You must be Quinn? Evie said you were starting today.”

  The third brother, I realised. Did the Valentine men have all women falling to their feet or was it just me? My backside was still a little bruised from meeting Mitch yesterday.

  Jared perched on the edge of the desk as I made a second, more cautious attempt at sitting down, taking in his subtle differences to Travis. Jared’s hair was golden brown and not as long, he was a little leaner, and a cheeky glint hovered in his green eyes.

  “How’s your first day going?”

  “Good.”

  “You worked at Jettison Records before here?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Did Mac show you where everything—”

  His phone rang, interrupting the rapid fire questions, so I focused on the computer screen while he took the call.

  “Travis. How’d the AFP meeting go this morning?”

  Just hearing his name was a rush of pleasure that had my mind losing its train of thought.

  Jared’s eyes widened as he listened. “What?”

  I glanced at him when his eyes slid my way with a frown. Silently, he mouthed he’d come back, and with the phone glued to his ear, he strode from the room.

  After about twenty minutes, Jared poked his head in the door. “Lunch?”

  I hadn’t had time to think about food, but my stomach gave an angry growl at the mention.

  “Okay. Thanks,” I said with a smile, thinking that was really nice of him to offer.

  My mistake.

  He came back in with a tuna and mung bean salad and a small dark brown roll that was riddled with what looked like bird seed. I didn’t want to offend him after the effort, but tuna was something that had my stomach churning. I picked at it carefully, pushing the food around a little as he told me about the house he’d recently bought in Bondi with Evie.

  “So you’re staying here until the renovations are done?” I asked.

  He swallowed a mouthful. “No. We’ll be here for just a couple of weeks. I wanna do most of it while we live there.”

  I put my fork down gratefully when Mac sent through a message with their location, telling me to head over when I was able. With Jared finished, I cleaned up and grabbed my bag. When my stomach gave another angry growl, I soothed it with promises of a drive through burger on the way.

  We both left the house at the same time. Jared told me he wanted to check in with Evie before heading to his own office. Striding out the door, his eyes raked over Suzi-Q parked kerbside and offered me a lift.

  Fully prepared to say no—there was burger out there with my name on it—the beep of a car unlocking drew my attention to a sexy, vintage black Porsche currently dominating the driveway. So I arrived on set in style, albeit hungry, just in time to see everyone break for lunch.

  Mac waltzed over to greet me, taking in my appearance with a crisp nod. “Look at you, Quinn! That hot pink lipstick looks fantastic, you lucky bitch. I try to wear shades like that and it washes me out,” she moaned.

  “Wow, look at the colour of your hair,” Evie muttered, reaching out to finger a rogue wave that had escaped my knot. “It was all tucked under a hat yesterday, but that’s your real colour!”

  Fidgeting under the scrutiny, I snatched up the phone with relief when it rang. Jared came up behind Evie, sliding his arms around her waist and they chattered for a moment while I spoke into the phone and made notes in the schedule. The call took a little while to deal with, and Jared strode off to talk to Henry as Mac and Evie waited for me to finish.

  “Have you had lunch yet?” Mac asked when I hung up. She nodded in the direction of a buffet style table of food currently surrounded by guys. They were all talking and laughing loudly, confident and cavalier, and my inner social douche shrivelled with anxiety.

  Mac grabbed my arm, oblivious to my freak out, and started to drag me towards them. “Let’s go push all those wankers out of the way and grab something before there’s nothing left but shitty salad. I’m bloody starving.”

  I stopped, halting Mac mid-drag. “Um…actually Jared made me lunch back at the house, so uh…” I trailed off because my stomach was still feeling slighted.

  Mac let out a shout of laughter.

  “Jesus,” Evie muttered. “You didn’t actually eat it, did you?”

  My cheeks heated. The man was Evie’s boyfriend. Offending her on my first day of work was not on my to-do list.

  Mac slapped me on the back, and I stumbled forward. “Come on. Let’s get our girl a burger. God knows you must be starving. We can put it on my plate so Jared doesn’t see.” She winked conspiratorially.

  The phone rang again and my eyes widened on Mac. “It doesn’t ever stop, does it?”

  She shook her head gravely.

  All eyes fell on me curiously as we neared the table, the phone glued to my ear. Mac elbowed her way into the group, putting together a huge plate of food while I hovered on the fringes. When I was done she strode over with two forks and shoved one at me. “Eat. Then I’ll introduce you around.”

  I ate furtively until I saw Jared fold himself back in that gorgeous Porsche and drive away, no doubt to his own office—where Travis probably was, at his own desk, legs propped up as he reclined casually in his chair, his deep voice reverberating across the room as he spoke into the phone—

  “Quinn? …Quinn?”

  “Hmmm?” I murmured, blinking.

  “You remember Henry from yesterday, don’t you?”

  Henry slung an arm around my shoulders, the weight heavy and warm, and winked at me. “Of course she does. Who could forget this gorgeous face?” he asked teasingly.

  Mac arched a brow. “Quinn was only joking when she said that yesterday, so keep it in your pants, Henry.”

  He looked down at me, brows drawn in a wounded expression. “You wouldn’t joke about something like that, would you Quinn?”

  “Well, I uh…”

  A hand grabbed mine and I was jerked out from beneath Henry’s hold.

  “Quit hogging the new girl,” the guy now holding on to me said to Henry. His hair was black and silky. Eyes like midnight were raking me over. Tattoos wound the entire length of his right arm, and my eyes were drawn to them as he pulled me towards him and pressed a light kiss on my cheek.

  “You smell like strawberries,” he murmured softly, making me shiver before pulling back to look me over again. “I’m Cooper,” he announced.

  Another guy’s shoulder bumped Cooper, and he stumbled, letting go of my hand. “I’m Jason,” the shoulder bumper told me, taking my hand and his own turn at kissing my cheek, “but you can call me Frog, or whatever you like, really.”

  I shook his hand, looking between the two of them. Frog had silky dark hair too, but his eyes were light hazel and tattoos wound around both his arms. “Oh… you two are brothers?”

  “Not by blood,” Cooper told me.

  “Stop flirting with Qu
inn, assheads,” Mac ordered them.

  I recognised Jake, even with him wearing a shirt, when he stepped into our huddle.

  Mac waved a hand. “This is Jake,” she said flatly, her narrowed eyes glaring daggers towards him.

  His nostrils flared, yet his eyes followed her retreating back when the set director called her over. After a moment eyes the colour of liquid scotch returned to mine. “Nice to meet you, Quinn,” he said, and held out a hand.

  I took it in my own. “You too.”

  “You coming back to the duplex for a drink when we wrap?” he asked as he let go of my hand.

  Henry folded his arms. “Of course she is. We haven’t seen Mac so stress-free in ages. That’s cause for a celebration.”

  Our eyes fell to Mac. She was wearing deep blue skinny jeans, brown boots, and a fitted, red sweater. Hands on her hips, she still looked all class as she glared at the set director in the obvious throes of a disagreement.

  “See?” Henry grinned. “She’s practically giddy.”

  Evie snorted.

  “Actually, I-I can’t,” I stammered.

  All those eyes fell to me and once again, I felt my face get hot.

  “Sure you can,” Cooper said.

  They were acting like I was their new best friend, and it was simply too much. I didn’t understand it. The need to retreat back to my little townhouse with its reality television and comfy sweatpants was overwhelming.

  “I uh…have something going on,” I lied, averting my eyes to gaze intently at my navy shoes. “Maybe next time.”

  Mac returned. “Everyone working hard?”

  “Hey! We were only asking if Quinn was coming back to the duplex for a drink this afternoon,” Frog told her.

  “Are you?” Mac asked me.

  The backs of my eyes burned, and my voice was a little thick when I explained again that I wasn’t able to make it.

  Jake slid an arm around my shoulders and leaned in to peer at me. “You okay?”

  “What did you do?” Mac growled at him.

  His fingers tightened on my shoulder. “Excuse me?”

  Henry took hold of my hand, pulling me away from the bubble of rising tension until we were out of ear shot.

  I glanced back, finding everyone’s eyes on us. They all looked away, Mac saying something that had them scattering.

  “Is there something wrong? I know Mac can be a bit overwhelming when you first get to know her, but deep down, somewhere in there, she does have a heart.” His brows furrowed. “I think.”

  “Mac’s been great,” I told him. “Really,” I added when his brows rose. “It’s just been a big day, you know? First day and all.”

  “I’m sure it has,” he agreed, his eyes watching me and taking in the sincerity because it really had been a big day. “Alright. We’ll take a raincheck on tonight,” he warned me. “But, if there is something wrong, we’re all kind of like a big family. One you’re now a part of.” He waved his hand in the direction of Jamieson. Evie was shoving at Mac, Cooper was high fiving Frog with a laugh, and Jake was talking intently with the sound technician. “If something upsets one of us, it upsets all of us. That’s how we roll.”

  ***

  “No! No, don’t put me on hold—” Mac huffed. “Goddamn effing asstards,” she muttered under her breath.

  I looked over the length of my desk at Mac. She was sitting opposite me at her own. Her lips were flattened and her knuckles white gripping the phone. It only took two weeks to get used to her feisty, take charge attitude, maybe because she reminded me a little of Lucy. Lucy could be a lioness, but apparently it was only me that brought out that particular quality. When Mac put her foot down the other day, forcing Evie to change a particular pair of shoes for an upcoming interview, Evie had bitched that Mac was like the blonde equivalent of Ellen Ripley from Alien. Right now, I could see it clear as day.

  “Mac.” Her eyes, narrowed with frustration, found mine. “Transfer the call to me and put the phone down.”

  She exhaled through flared nostrils and nodded slowly, putting the phone down.

  An annoyed voice came through the line when I picked it up. “Mac? Look, the best I can do is next week and that—”

  “Robin,” I said and forced a smile. I was told in a training session a while back that when you’re on the phone and you smile, it carries through into your voice. “It’s Quinn here, Mac’s assistant. We spoke last week?”

  “Oh, hi, Quinn.”

  “Look, I know you’re under the pump, and it’s completely our fault for not confirming you received approval for the T-shirt artwork sooner.” Mac glared at me for taking the blame. The artwork was approved long before I came on the scene, but apparently Robin had missed that. “We have a huge show this weekend, and we really need these shirts ready by then. If you can arrange to have them delivered by Friday, I’ll send out a couple of tickets to the show and give Jettison Records some of your business cards.”

  I heard an indrawn breath and papers being shuffled madly echoed down the line. Robin cleared her throat. “You know, Quinn, I think I might just manage that. Leave it with me and I’ll ring you to confirm the delivery details.”

  I finished up the call and looked at Mac’s expectant face. “T-shirts will be here by Friday.”

  “Yes!” Mac fist pumped the air. She jumped up and grabbed me from my chair. I was twirled in an impromptu waltz that left me both giggly and dizzy. “I love having you here, but that bitch doesn’t deserve tickets.”

  “I agree, but it’s a small price to pay.”

  Mac twirled me around one last time, and I smacked my hip into the side of the desk. “Oh shit, Quinn. You okay?”

  I chuckled. One hand peeled up my shirt and the other pulled the top of my pants down, exposing a fair amount of skin in order to inspect the damage. “See? Nothing but a small red mark.”

  “Working hard I see?”

  My heart kicked wildly at the deep voice from the doorway, and my eyes found Travis. He was wearing a pair of grey and black pinstripe dress pants and a collared navy shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his tanned, sinewy forearms. His jaw was tight as his eyes focused on my exposed hip in a way that left me breathless. I snapped my clothes back in place, and his eyes flew up to mine.

  “Damn straight we are,” Mac answered for the both of us. “Quinn is kicking asstard ass.”

  “Nothing to it, Mac,” I murmured, tearing my eyes from his and resuming my seat at my desk. My hands hovered over the keyboard, and my eyes fixed to the computer screen in an effort to convey that his presence had no effect on me at all.

  You might be fooling them, but you’re not fooling yourself.

  La, la, la, I told the irritating voice in my head.

  “What?”

  I turned my head at Mac’s question. “Huh?”

  “Did you just say ‘la la la’?”

  Shit. “No.”

  Travis cleared his throat and I turned back to the computer and began tapping at the keyboard as though my life depended on it. What I typed, I couldn’t be sure—hieroglyphics maybe.

  “What are you up to, Travis?” Mac asked.

  The corner of my eye told me he was now leaning casually up against the doorframe as though my presence was but a minor blip on his day. I huffed silently and tapped a bit more.

  “I have a meeting with Quinn about the security for the show this weekend.”

  My fingers froze over the keyboard, and, yes, they even shook a little.

  “No,” I told the computer screen with feigned authority. “My diary right here says I’m meeting with Jared.”

  I resumed my busy schedule of ignoring Travis and typing my hieroglyphics.

  “Well,” came his drawl. “Change of plans. You’ve got me now.”

  How did he manage to make that sound like sex? His words licked every inch of my skin, making me want him instantly. How unfair that I was so seemingly happy on my little drought crusade but one night with him and now sex was
the recurring star of my world. My face flamed as I stared at the keyboard, the letters out of focus.

  “Okay then.” I drew in a deep breath and swivelled in my seat, facing him full on. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “Tension much?” I heard Mac mumble under her breath. Louder, she said, “I’m going to make us some lunch.” She stood up, already striding for the door.

  “Wait,” I called. She spun around and with all the attention focused on me, I fidgeted with notepad in front of me. “Uh, Jared’s not here, right?”

  “Nope. Jared and Evie moved into the Bondi house yesterday,” Mac said with triumph. Between Jared forcing his healthy eating on everyone, and Evie in the beginnings of a renovation meltdown—if you currently didn’t talk cupboard colours or wall paint speak, you may as well have been talking to a wall—it had been a stressful two weeks. Mac pointed at me. “And we’re celebrating. I’m ordering pizza. With extra cheese,” she added.

  She left the back office, her footsteps echoing up the hallway as Travis moved into the room and took her seat. I fought not to stare, but his presence invaded the small space until he was all I could see. He silently returned my gaze until my eyes dropped to the desk. I picked up a pen and shuffled some papers.

  “Okay,” I began.

  Off to a good start, Quinn.

  Would you just shut the hell up, I told my sarcastic inner bitch.

  I picked up a sheet out of the pile of papers before me. “This is Friday and Saturday night’s show at Sixty,” I said, and handed the page over with the building layout. He took the sheet, but rather than look at it, his eyes were on my lips as I spoke. “Uh...there’s two entrances covered by their own door security, and they have ten more inside the venue—four to be directed by your uh…firm and the rest to man the stage and crowd.”

  He nodded at me, finally shifting his eyes downwards to scan the page in his hands. “Crowd capacity?”

  “Three thousand, both nights, sold out.”

  Travis sighed heavily and rubbed his brow, looking like he needed to sprawl himself out in bed and sleep for a week. I wanted to join him there, but sleep wasn’t on my agenda. And a week wouldn’t be enough to do everything that was clouding my mind as I watched his brow furrow in concentration.

 

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