Carla Krae - [My Once and Future Love Revisited 02]

by Betrayed (epub)

  He still wanted answers.

  Chapter Ten

  When Beth got home Monday, the message on her machine was for a meeting the next day. Don’t know how he found her number…maybe she was in the phone book. She called in sick to work and tried to get a good night’s sleep. At last count, she reached two-hundred forty-seven sheep.

  Jacob was outside the building when she arrived, leaning against a pillar by the entrance in sunglasses, a weathered black leather jacket, and his lived-in jeans. The wind tousled his hair and he looked posed for a photo shoot.

  “Hello,” she said when she was in earshot.

  “I’ll show you the way,” he said, and pushed off the wall.

  They took the elevator up a ways, then walked down a hall to a conference room, passing cubicles. Every woman they passed greeted him with a smile and “Hi, Jake”. Flirty emphasis on the “hi”.

  “Ladies,” he said, nodding to them in turn.

  Beth glanced behind them and caught the women watching him leave. With an ass like his she honestly couldn’t blame them, but it was still unprofessional. Two men turned to greet them in the conference room, one short and balding. The man in the expensive suit smiled at Jacob.

  “There’s our favorite star! And on time, too. Who’s this young lady?”

  She offered her hand for a firm shake. “Elizabeth Lawson, sir. I’m here to interview for the assistant position.”

  “Beth, this is Mr. Sydney, the talent VP, and that’s my manager,” Jacob said.

  The manager didn’t offer to shake her hand. “Hello.”

  Mr. Sydney put his hand on Jacob’s shoulder and guided him toward the door. “Jake, I want you to see the brochure for this bus. Talk about creature comforts!”

  “I’ll be back in a few, Beth. Just sign what he asks you to.”

  Heh, I’d be reading it first, thank you very much.

  This guy…she didn’t trust him at all. He looked like he was only acknowledging her because he was supposed to. “Jake tells me you were a secretary before this.”

  “An executive assistant.”

  “Do you have a degree?”

  “A bachelor’s degree in Business Administration with honors, sir.”

  “I see. And what makes you want to be a personal assistant now?”

  “I’ve known Jacob a long time and he made a good offer.”

  He narrowed his beady little eyes at her. “Money important to you?”

  “No, but it’d be a mistake to turn down a better opportunity, wouldn’t it?”

  He shrugged. “Sure. Look, honey, I don’t care what you do for him as long as he’s happy, on time, and selling albums. Fuck him, if that’s what it takes. Double-cross us, and I’ll bury you. Clear?”

  What an ass! Did she look like she wasn’t serious? She didn’t come to an interview in a business suit to be told to screw the client. “As crystal.”

  He smiled, looking like a shark. “Good. The NDA is standard copy from the record company. The contract is already drawn up.”

  Oh, great…prepare to turn over your first born, Beth. “I’d like to read it over first, if you don’t mind.”

  He shrugged. “Fax it to my office by morning. But until I see your name on the dotted line, the job’s still up for grabs.”

  She resisted the urge to grind her teeth. “Fine.” She tucked the papers in her bag.

  “Great. Let’s find Jake. I have an appointment.”

  She followed the jerk only because she didn’t know her way around the office. They found Jacob in the VP’s corner suite. He arched a brow when he saw her. She masked her emotions.

  He stood from the leather sofa. “Later. Gotta meet up with the boys and jam.” He opened the door for her. “Somethin’ wrong?” he asked when they were in the hall.

  “No.”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing. Really.” She pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. “I’m fine.”

  “I was nervous the first time in this building, too.”

  “Yeah, right.” They stepped into the elevator.

  He grinned. “Well, it didn’t last long.”

  “I’m looking over the contract before I take the position. No offense.”

  “None taken.”

  Outside, they both went toward the parking lot. “Do you want to meet the band?” he asked.

  “Might as well. I’ll follow you.”

  “Sure you can keep up?” He stopped at a silver Jaguar coupe.

  “Funny.” She rolled her eyes and continued to her hand-me-down car.

  He was waiting at the exit when she drove out.

  The building for their practice space was nothing special on the outside. Just another commercial building. He waved at the security guard and led her deeper inside. They passed several doors to smaller rooms before reaching one where she heard guitar and drum noises coming from the other side.

  He opened the door.

  “Hey, Jake!” “’Bout time, man.” “Nah, what do we need him for? He doesn’t play!” They talked in a near-simultaneous burst of words.

  “Mates, this is Beth Lawson, possibly our new assistant. Make her feel welcome.”

  A blond man, taller than the rest, stepped forward and shook her hand. “Hi, I’m Bob. That’s Mikey, Dylan, and Aaron with the drumsticks.”

  “Hey.”

  “Where’d you find this one, Jake, the library?” Aaron with the drumsticks.

  Bob smacked Aaron on the back of the head. “Shut up, moron. Don’t mind him. We haven’t housebroken him, yet.”

  “Best behavior, mates, really? At least until she’s used to us,” Jacob said.

  It was obvious he was the leader when they all nodded their compliance. He nudged her toward a loveseat against the wall and walked to the microphone stand in the center.

  For the first time since she was eighteen, she watched Jacob Lindsey sing.

  ****

  Jacob looped up a cable, helping pack up. Beth had left.

  “What’s the story with Miss Prim and Proper?” Bob asked.

  “She’s going to be our assistant, if she signs the contract.”

  “Didn’t know we need an assistant.”

  “Management thinks I do.” He bent to untangle the wad of cable spaghetti on the floor.

  “Do you trust her?”

  He gave Bob a look. “What do you mean by that?”

  “If you want to keep what little privacy you’ve got left, you need someone you can trust. So, back to my first question—what’s the story?” Bob finished wiping down his guitar, set it in the case, and closed the lid.

  “I’ve known Beth a long time.”

  “How long? Like playground buddies?” Should’ve known his best friend would dig for dirt.

  “Went to the same high school. We were neighbors.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What?”

  “Nothin’.” Like hell. Bob looked for double meanings everywhere.

  “Spill it, Bob. I can see the hamster wheel spinnin’ in your brain.”

  “Cute.”

  “Wanker. You got an opinion, express it.”

  “Just wondered what was up, man? You’ve never brought a girl to practice before, least of all one that looks like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “The opposite of your type. A corporate drone. Then again, it’s always the quiet ones…”

  “Hands off, mate. She’s a friend.” Was a friend. A lady he respected—there, he could say that.

  “Hey, whoa, not my type, either, bro. Just talkin’.”

  Jacob sighed. “If she signs on, be respectful, alright?”

  “Okay, Jake. No problem.”

  Jacob nodded and set the bundled cable with the rest. The only equipment they didn’t carry out each time was the drum kit and the microphones. Aaron’s drums were stored in a locker, his sticks stowed in his back pocket. Jacob picked up an amp and followed Dylan out to the parking lot.

  If
Beth signed on, he’d have to talk to all of them about their behavior around her. She’d be coming on tour and the situation could get really uncomfortable on the bus if one of the lads stepped out of line. And…he didn’t think he could watch her with one of his friends.

  Had she dated since? Was she seeing someone now?

  Don’t do this to yourself, mate. He put the amp in Dylan’s trunk and went back inside. No, it wouldn’t do to follow that train of thought at all.

  ****

  That evening, Beth faxed the contract back with her suggested alterations. With that done, she had nothing to do but wait and went back to work in the morning. When she got home, the shark had left a message, grudgingly saying the job was hers if she wanted it, including the provisions Jake backed her up on.

  Huh. He pressured his manager. Weird. She didn’t know whether he did it because they went back a long way and her requests were fair or there was some other motive, and that made her nervous. She called the manager back to say yes, and drove to his office to sign the papers. He gave her copies of the contract and confidentiality agreement and filed the originals.

  “Here.” He tossed a plain envelope on the desk in front of her.

  Inside were a couple index cards. “What’s this?”

  “Jake’s address and the security code for the gate. Part of your job is living on his property, or had you noticed that little detail?”

  That “little detail” hadn’t been there. The contract said close to Mr. Lindsey’s house. Leave it to her ex to have his own interpretation of that.

  “It was only a question, sir. Did he say when he’s expecting me?”

  He shrugged. “Do I look like I take messages? Work it out yourself. Now get out of my office. I’m busy.”

  She left, biting her tongue. How did that man possibly get successful by being that rude? He had to be handling Jacob’s career in a spectacular way because she didn’t know how he put up with him.

  Living ‘on the property’, eh? Well, it had to be nicer than her apartment. She’d just deal with being around her ex all the time again and suck it up. For the salary on her contract—holy cow—and generous benefits he was giving her, she was willing to put up with a lot.

  She quit her job and packed up her apartment, what little there was to move.

  Chapter Eleven

  Passing multi-million-dollar mansions, Beth drove up to big black metal gates made of steel mesh. The property beyond was barely visible through the privacy screen. She punched in the code on the security panel and waited for admittance. The gates swung inward.

  Trees sheltered the long driveway on both sides. The drive finally opened on a circle with a fountain in the center, a simple pedestal shooting a jet of water in the air at timed intervals. Grass had been planted around the drive and up to the house. A house that didn’t strike her as the dwelling place of the man she knew. It was very modern, all straight lines and angles. Stark. She parked her car and walked up to the giant doors.

  The door on her left opened within seconds of her pressing the bell. “You must be Miss Lawson. I’m Maria.” She was an average-frame woman in middle age, wearing a plain blouse and a skirt with a half-apron tied over it.

  “Hi.” Beth stepped inside and marveled at the entry to the mansion.

  This place was huge. The entry could probably hold her entire apartment and then some. With the slate flooring and bare, gleaming white walls, it was quite cold, though. The only redeeming feature in her eyes was the atrium in the center. Some species of dwarf tree grew in the center of a square of dirt, a skylight above it enabling it to live.

  Maria walked around the tree and paused in front of a massive central staircase. “Mr. Lindsey’s wing is to the left up there. Guest quarters are on the right.”

  “He uses an entire wing?”

  “Nah, but the master suite is at the end.” She turned right and pushed open a door. It was painted black. They walked down a short hall lined with cabinets and found the kitchen. “This is my domain,” she said. “You need me, look here first.”

  “Okay. Do you live here, too?”

  “During the week, and any time I’m needed, though Mr. Lindsey is gone much of the time.” The kitchen would rival several in gourmet restaurants, with professional appliances and yards of counter space. Maria kept walking through another door. “This is the laundry, obviously, and through there is one of the garages.”

  One of? Holy cow…how many cars did a person need?

  She went back through the kitchen and out another door, this time to the formal dining room with a black table with stainless steel legs and a black chandelier with teardrop crystals hanging from its arms. The walls were papered in matte silver brocade.

  A hidden pocket door let them back into the foyer. “Is this house ever full?” Beth asked.

  “We’ve had a few parties over the past year. This is the living room.” She slid a door open across the entry.

  Another huge room, the furniture was grouped into smaller stations—all black leather or white upholstery. A few Mod paintings adorned the walls for pops of color and a bar stood at one end of the room. She supposed it was chic if you liked a look that screamed don’t touch. The carpet was white, so the guests couldn’t even eat in here.

  “This way.” Maria led her to a hall beneath the grand stairs. “You’ll find Mr. Lindsey in one of these rooms if he’s not upstairs.” She opened door after door, displaying a game room outfitted like an arcade, a home theater, an informal den, and finally, the recording studio. “This is the one room we don’t enter unless invited, clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I remember how protective Jacob was of his work.”

  She nodded. “Well, that’s the downstairs. Not much to see upstairs.”

  “Seen one bedroom, you’ve seen ‘em all.” And that was seriously lame.

  Maria smiled politely. “Let me show you the grounds.”

  They left the back of the house through a glass door. A lattice of wood beams sheltered the patio from direct sun. Concrete floor, potted palm trees…entirely too minimalist for Beth.

  Behind a low wall, the yard went down three steps. They could see the rest of the property from here. A pool was in the foreground. In contrast to the house, the pool was all curves with a hot tub to one side. A barbeque stood at the other end next to a cabana with a restroom sign on the door. She looked down at the water’s edge and saw the bottom was tiled black.

  “Take the path that way to the guest house,” Maria said. “And around the other side is the big garage. The garden is all desert plants, so you can look at it later.” She went toward the guest house.

  “Not fond of the landscaping?”

  “I prefer flowers. Mr. Lindsey bought it all this way.”

  Now it made more sense. “No time for decorating?”

  “No need, for the right price.”

  “Ah.” Beth glanced at the house. The second story had a bank of floor-to-ceiling windows. The architect must have thought the view was worthy.

  Maria took a set of keys out of her pocket and unlocked the door to the cottage. “This is your new home.”

  Nice. A desk sat in the corner window spot. A sofa and modest-sized television completed the living room. The entrance to the kitchen was to the left. The refrigerator was bigger than the one that came with Beth’s apartment, the stove had four burners instead of two, and she now had both a microwave and a regular oven. A two-person breakfast table sat under another corner window.

  “The bedroom is to the back, of course. These are yours.” She dropped a set of keys on Beth’s palm.

  The full bath was between the living room and bedroom. Two storage closets were in the opposite wall. The tub looked long enough for her to stretch her legs fully if she sat in it, yay. That didn’t happen often for a five-foot-seven gal.

  She turned on the light in the bedroom. Wow, big.

  “Nice, huh? The windows up there let in nice light in the morning. Do you have a bed, Miss L
awson?”

  “Yeah, I just need to borrow a truck.”

  “Okay. Now, there are always leftovers in my kitchen, so if you run out of something, come over. Always enough to eat.” Maria walked back to the kitchen.

  “Thanks.”

  “I took the liberty of stocking some basics, but if you have preferences, make a list and I’ll shop for you.”

  “You don’t need to—”

  “You won’t have time, Miss Beth, at least not until you get used to things.”

  Her version of basics included three flavors of pasta, and milk in nonfat, low-fat, lactose-free, and soy varieties. One cupboard held ten kinds of cereal, and the freezer was stocked with homemade frozen dinners. She also had apples, oranges, and bananas by the dozen.

  Being late November, daylight would be short-lasting, so Beth wanted to get started on moving her belongings inside. “Do you mind if I start unpacking?”

  She shook her head. “Oh, no. Probably a good idea before Mr. Lindsey comes home. If you need me, use the intercom.” She went back to the house.

  Beth’s bed was set up by five o’clock and she’d just finished tucking in clean linens when there was a knock on her front door.

  “Beth?”

  “I’m coming.”

  Jacob stood leaning on the doorframe in a different old leather jacket and jeans with holes in the knees. He grinned at her. “You have dirt on your nose.”

  “Crap.” She rubbed it off with her sleeve. Just a little dust. “What’s up?”

  He tossed her something. A cell phone. “Your new leash.”

  “Ha, ha.”

  He came inside and shut the door. “So, that thing’s supposed to be loaded with my itinerary, according to my publicist. She said a girl like you should be able to figure it out.”