by Claire Adams
“Yeah, but this is my first impression for the rest of the band. I even left early! To make sure I had enough time to get there!”
“Exactly! You can’t control the traffic, so quit freaking out,” she tried to calm me down. “I mean, there was a huge accident with an eighteen wheeler. You couldn't have predicted that. You did your best to be there on time, but sometimes these things happen, and I'm sure they'll understand. Like I said, it's been all over the news. Hell, the footage from the freeway looks downright terrifying! The eighteen wheeler is still on fire.”
“Ugh, I really want this job!”
“I know you do, and you’ll still get it. Is there another way you can get there? Can you get off the road you’re on?”
I looked around at the bumper to bumper gridlock. “Not a chance, I’m not going anywhere with how bad the traffic is. I'm completely blocked in, and there's no exit for at least a mile. And it might take an hour just to get to the exit – I'm not even joking.”
“Well, I’m sure things will start to clear up soon, and you’ll be able to make it there and explain what happened. It’ll be fine. The fire department and the traffic police are working on sorting it all out. I’m sure Owen Young understands how traffic can be.”
“God, I hope so,” I sighed, staring at the parking lot of freeway traffic. I could just barely see the smoke rising from the scene of the accident and the emergency vehicles that were cleaning it up. They were starting to open one lane at least. Maybe Grace was right, and they would understand.
“Call me afterwards?” she asked. “And good luck getting there. I'm sure you'll be fine.”
“Of course.” I hung up the call and then waited as the cars started to inch forward a little bit more. Oh, thank God, I thought. I just needed to get past the bottleneck and I’d be almost there. My GPS showed that I was five minutes away.
It was another half an hour, though, before I finally got past it and traffic began to move again. It was after three already, and I hoped they were still at the studio and hadn’t finished practice yet. I was driving like a bat out of hell, even though I was already late and another few minutes probably wouldn’t have made a difference.
Five more minutes later, I was finally in front of their building. I hurried out of the car, not bothering to check myself in the mirror, and ran as quickly as I could in heels toward the door.
When I got inside there was a pretty, young woman sitting behind a desk up front, she smiled at me. “How can I help you?”
“Hi, I was supposed to be here over an hour ago, but there was a huge accident that blocked all the lanes on the freeway. I was supposed to see Owen for a second interview. Is he still here?”
“Oh! You must be Miss Dean. Yes, they’re all still here. I think they're packing up, but they usually hang around and chat for a bit before they leave. They should still be back in one of the rehearsal spaces, though. Come on, I’ll take you back. So sorry about the traffic. It can be such a beast sometimes,” she said, her voice unbelievably chipper and sweet.
“Thank you so much,” I offered her a smile despite how frustrated I felt about my commute there. She put her phone to voicemail then got up and motioned for me to follow her. She led me down a few different corridors to a door at the end of a long hall. It looked like a recording room with a booth full of expensive looking soundboards and equipment. Past it, there was a window and another door leading to the practice space where the guys were packing up their equipment.
Owen looked pissed, and I was initially afraid to go in, but he looked up when his secretary opened the door, and his expression immediately softened into a sweet smile.
“Owen, Miss Dean is here to see you. She was caught up in the traffic jam caused by that big accident I heard about on the newsfeed,” she explained to him. He nodded to his secretary before she excused herself. I swallowed hard as I realized that all the guys had stopped packing up and were watching me.
“Owen, I’m so sorry. I tried calling the agency to let you know, but I couldn’t get a hold of anyone. The number kept giving me a busy signal. And then I tried to call here, but was told you were in the studio and couldn't talk to anyone. There was an accident with an eighteen wheeler and a multi car pile-up that had traffic backed up for miles. I swear I left early enough so that I could get here on time, taking into account that traffic would probably be bad. It's just that that accident really threw a wrench in the plan.”
“It’s okay,” he smiled. “I’m just glad you finally made it. I didn’t think you were still interested.”
“Hell, yes, I’m still interested! I wouldn't have missed this for the world!”
Everyone laughed at my unexpected upsurge. Owen introduced me to each of the guys in the band, and I recognized each one from the internet stalking I’d done the night before. I had thought it would be a good idea to have a little head start on today’s meet and greet.
“So you’ve done bigger tours before?” Talon asked me.
“Yes,” I smiled at him. I couldn’t believe how well I was lying through my teeth, but deep down, I knew I could do this. “This tour won't be much of a problem to organize, trust me.”
“You excited to go on tour with us? Going to be a lot of work,” Jeremiah added.
“Definitely. And, I don’t mind a lot of work. It’ll keep me busy and on my toes. And, of course, I aim to keep all of you guys on your toes, as well. Owen explained to me just how important this tour is to all of you—and to all of your fans, of course. I'm going to do my absolute best to make sure it all comes together as perfectly as it possibly can.”
Owen grinned, sitting back and letting the guys pepper me with questions. I was guessing this was the second interview, to see if the band also liked me.
“You sure you’ll be able to put up with us for three months?” Talon waggled his eyebrows at me. “I dunno how much you know about Bleeding Heart, but we do have a certain, hmm, how do I say this, reputation that precedes us.”
“Yeah. I won’t lie. I’ve heard the rumors. But I feel pretty confident I can manage. I’ve dealt with my older brother for twenty-six years. You guys can’t be any more difficult than he is,” I laughed at him. His grin widened, and he looked over at Owen, exchanging a look, to which Owen only smiled back. It had to be a brother thing, I guessed. Still, I couldn’t help grinning at them.
Jay and Talon asked me more questions, although the things they were asking about didn't seem to have much to do with the tour. Most of the questions seemed to be more about getting to know me. After they were done, Owen glanced around at the guys, a wide smile still plastered on his face.
“So, what do you guys think? I’m totally down with the idea of Nalia joining us on tour. Who all’s in?”
All of them answered in unison with a hearty “I am,” and I had to fight to contain my excitement and put on a façade of calm collectedness. Owen looked over at me. “All right, Nalia, it looks like we're all in. What do you think?”
“I’m all in, too,” I smiled at him, trying not to gush. God, he was handsome when he smiled like that.
“Perfect. Early dinner…at my house? We’ll talk about everything and lock down the details.”
“Sounds good!” I nodded, those nervous flip flops in my tummy returning. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if it was the excitement of the new job or that smile that caused them.
Chapter Thirteen
Owen
I was thrilled that Nalia had shown up after all. And damned if she hadn’t worn another outfit that drove me crazy. She had on those tall, black heels again and a black, high-waisted pencil skirt that hugged her hips and ass perfectly with a cute top that showed off her voluptuous chest. I could hardly take my eyes off of her, and I was struggling to keep my fantasies about her from just totally taking over my thoughts.
Damn, I was beginning to think I was going to have to require her to wear baggy clothes if I intended to get any work done. I suddenly wondered if it would be such a good idea having
someone so distracting around. How could I maintain my focus on the music and the tour schedule when she was near me?
Then again, where was I going to find someone capable of doing the job and not going all fangirl every time they were around us? I was just going to have to deal with my attraction and do my best to put it aside.
She followed me out to the parking lot, and I couldn’t help looking back at her a few times, just to watch her walk. At one point, I almost walked into a door. If she noticed, though, she was polite enough not to laugh at me. I led her out to my black Porsche and opened the door for her before making my way around to the driver’s side. I slid into my seat and smiled at her until I realized how cheesy I probably looked just staring at her.
Nonetheless, she returned the smile from the passenger seat. I almost melted at the sight of those gorgeous eyes staring deeply back at me. I turned on the ignition switch and gave the powerful motor a good rev, eliciting a grin from her.
“Nice car,” she said. “Didn’t really take you for the muscle car type. Black is one of my favorite colors on cars.”
“Thanks,” I replied, grinning like a schoolboy. “This was the first car I bought after the band signed with Capitol Records. Reminds me of one my granddad had when I was a kid.” I caught myself before I teared up. Talking about Gramps had a way of getting to me. “But enough about my car; let's go!” I said, changing the subject.
The ride was mostly silent on the drive to my place, but I noticed her looking around the car and out at the hills as we drove. When we reached the gate that led to my house, she let out a quiet gasp, and I smiled, knowing she was at least a little impressed by the size of it. This is what happened when you were successful but didn’t have someone else to spend all your money on.
I liked my mansion, but it did tend to get lonely at times. Perhaps it was even lonelier than an apartment would have been. I mean, I had a shit ton of rooms, a ridiculous span of land, and just myself to occupy them most of the time. I frowned as I thought about it, but immediately did my best to push the thoughts out of my mind. Why the hell was I feeling so sentimental all of a sudden? Now wasn't the time for such things.
“And this is my humble abode,” I commented as I opened the door for her.
“Humble, huh?” she teased, grinning at me.
“Okay, maybe not so humble. Come on. Let me show you around.” I crooked my elbow out, offering it to her. She slid her hand in and rested it on my arm. She followed along, taking in everything. I led her through the foyer, showed her the living room, the game room (mostly made for me and Talon to shoot pool and bullshit or play PlayStation), and then I showed her the practice space and the recording studio.
“So, how come you guys practiced at the record company today?”
“It’s more centrally located for the guys,” I answered, leading her upstairs. I showed her the bedrooms and the balcony upstairs that overlooked the backyard and the hills. Then led her back downstairs to the kitchen. “Do you like seafood?” I asked.
“I love it,” she replied, following me into the kitchen and letting out another little gasp as she stepped through the entryway. Even I had to admit it was fairly impressive, considering the professional setup I had going on in there.
I loved my kitchen, and I loved to cook, especially with company. So, making a meal for someone other than myself would be a treat for both of us.
“Great! I picked up salmon and veggies from the store this morning. Want to help me cook?” I asked her, pulling the food out of the fridge.
“I love cooking. Sure.”
I was getting more and more into her by the minute. The more we interacted, the more I wondered if she could have been more perfect for me. Still, I did my best to keep my emotions in check. After all, I had to be professional about this situation. Not that it was going to be easy, but I couldn’t allow anything to get out of hand.
“There’s an apron over on that hook, so you don’t get anything on your blouse,” I nodded toward the aprons just before I pulled out a few pans and utensils. She grabbed an apron, put it on, and then pulled the veggies to the area on the counter in front of her.
“So, what am I doing here? Chopping, slicing, or dicing?” she asked, waving the knife back and forth playfully.
“Well, as long as you’re talking about the vegetables, slicing. We’re going to grill them,” I replied with a chuckle.
She starting to slice them up and, while she was busy with that, I started prepping the fish. I took a break from it after a few moments to pull a bottle of wine out of the wine cooler, pouring us both a glass. She sipped hers and watched me.
“You must really love to cook to have this kind of kitchen.”
“I do. It's a great way to relax and a good way to get creative at the same time. While music is my first love, cooking is definitely high up there among my list of passions. I think if being a musician hadn't worked out for me, I might have even been a chef.” I smiled at her, seasoning the fish and placing them just so into a pan to sear.
“So, are you excited about organizing this tour?” I asked. “It should be pretty big. We’ve been getting millions of hits since we announced the tour on our Facebook and Twitter accounts, not to mention the band’s website.”
“Millions? Wow, that’s crazy. Though, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. And yes, I'm definitely excited. Maybe even a touch nervous, but only because I’m excited. All you need to do is fill me in on details, and I can guarantee you everything will go exactly as planned.”
“We’re going to start on the West Coast. Seattle is the first stop, then we’ll come down the coast, do a show here in L.A., next San Diego, then head toward the East Coast, stopping in Vegas, Dallas, Austin, and a few other spots. Then it’s on to New York for a couple of shows. After that, we'll just take it down the East Coast, with the last show being in Miami.”
“Wow, that’s quite a cross country trip. That’s going to be one hell of a drive.”
“And, that’s why we hire a professional driver and a luxury tour bus,” I winked at her. “Back when we were still indie, though, we would drive ourselves from one gig to the next in a van all day and then played shows that night. Some weeks, we had a show every single night. It was exhausting and a pain in the ass.
“A driver is well worth whatever they cost so we can focus on music and resting up for each show. Trust me, the last thing you want to do is have to concentrate on the road when you've been up half the night drinking after playing a hard show and having only had three hours of sleep—every night for a week. Looking back, it was pretty stupid, but we were young.”
Nalia nodded thoughtfully. “I can see how that might not have been the best of situations,” she said with a grin, taking another sip of wine. “But, bright side, you’ve learned a few lessons since then. Like, hire a driver and a few beds on wheels.”
I laughed, “And, an assistant who just might keep us halfway in line.”
“Oh...I have a whip, and I’m not afraid to use it,” she announced. Then her face turned a little red. “Wait. That did not come out the way I meant it.”
“Are you sure?” I joked. “Because I might be a little disappointed if you don’t have a whip.”
She tossed a piece of vegetable at me from across the counter and smiled that breathtaking smile of hers. I was rather glad that I had the counter to hide behind because everything about her was getting to me. The kitchen was heating up, and it had more to do with her than the heat from the stove.
I finished cooking, and we sat at the island on barstools, eating our dinner and discussing the upcoming week.
“Tomorrow and Thursday, we can plan to get together and go over all the details I have down on paper so you can start wrapping up the final schedule, get all of the accommodations together, and start working on the radio promotions and PR appearances for the tour.”
“That sounds great. I can’t wait to get started,” she smiled at me over her nearly empty glass of wine. I po
ured each of us a refill, starting to feel it just a little.
I watched her, overwhelmed by how beautiful and genuine she was. Not to mention how perfect she was going to be for the tour. This woman was the total package. She came across as being very level-headed and completely together. I had total confidence that she would really have everything under complete control. I was excited to get to work side-by-side with her over the next four months, prepping for the tour then going on the road with her. But I wasn’t looking forward to having to keep my promise to the band. The more I looked at her and the better I got to know her, the more difficult the idea of keeping that pact began to seem. Still, she was on board now, and I would just have to keep it together for four months. Then it was fair game.
Nalia looked up and caught me watching her. I just didn’t manage to look away fast enough. She tried to hide a smile by taking another sip of wine. I had a feeling she was feeling a little buzzed as well. Her eyes glistened brightly as she studied me, taking another bite of food.
“This salmon came out delicious,” she praised my culinary skills after she dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “Do you plan on cooking while we’re on the tour bus? Because I’m definitely in if you are.”
“I thought you said you were already in,” I teased.
“I am, but if the food is going to be this good? That’s a huge perk.”
I laughed. For her, I’d gladly cook. Unfortunately, on tour buses, there was usually extremely limited space in the kitchen. Because of this, there was usually a lot of eating at restaurants and fast food joints.
We finished up dinner and the first bottle of wine, so I took out another bottle, pouring us each another glass. I liked having Nalia there, and if I hadn’t been looking forward to the tour before, I certainly was now. We talked more about random things. She told me about her older brother, as well as her best friend Grace, whom I knew of from seeing commercials for the soap opera. We headed back upstairs to the balcony off the lounge and took our wine glasses with us.