Danica had texted me early this morning to say she was finishing up her work at Little Black Hole today, and asking if I could meet her for lunch. As I walked into the great room and found Cary sitting on a couch, curled around his guitar, I smiled. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to spend a few hours working not in his immediate vicinity. So I could make sure that I was really doing a job, and not just gazing lustfully at my employer all damn day while his hard earned dollars accumulated interest in my bank account.
“Hey, Cary?” I said softly.
He looked up, and when he saw me the distant fog in his eyes cleared and he did that thing he’d started doing when he looked at me—smiling without really smiling. “Hey.”
“Danica is down at LBH today. She’s been getting the place comfy for the band. I don’t know if I mentioned it, but she’s an interior decorator.”
He set his guitar aside on the couch, giving me his full attention. “I heard.”
“She asked me to meet her for lunch today. I thought I’d swing by the studio, meet the staff in person. See the space the band’s working in. And then go for lunch with Danica. If that’s okay with you, of course.”
“Sure. That’s a good idea.” He got up and came over to me, pausing in front of me for a moment to run his fingers over the curve of my hip. “I have some paperwork you can take with you.” He went into the control room and I quietly melted in the wake of his touch. Then I gathered myself and followed, leaning on the doorframe to watch him. He poked through some papers on his desk, which were now organized in an ascending tray rack that I’d had delivered for him. “Here. These are for Merritt.”
I took the papers. “Consider them delivered.”
“Is it inappropriate if I kiss you goodbye?”
“Nope.”
I really didn’t care if it was inappropriate. I didn’t care if it was inappropriate that he bend me over his desk and fuck me while I called him Big Boss Daddy.
I’d do it right now, if he wanted me to.
He leaned in, his mouth hovering close to mine. “Have a good time at lunch.” Then he kissed me softly.
“Thank you,” I said, kinda breathless. “I can bring something back for you if you like?”
“Sure. Just get me some of whatever you’re getting.”
“Do you have any allergies or anything I should know about?”
“Nope. I hate sushi, though.”
“How can you hate sushi? You live in Vancouver. I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”
“What can I say? I’ve never liked it.”
“Okay, then. No sushi for you.”
I was just about to walk out when Cary reached for me, stopping me. He put his hand on my face and I drifted back toward him. He looked deep in my eyes… and then he kissed me again. Softly.
My bones did that melty thing again. His lips were so fucking soft.
Christ, I was in trouble.
As he drew back, he just looked at me.
Why are you always alone?
I couldn’t even fathom the answer to that question. How someone like him could end up alone made zero rational sense.
Although he wasn’t totally alone, right? I was here.
“See you later, Taylor.”
“See you.”
I turned and left before I could keep staring at him. I floated all the way out to the garage and into the car. Then I told myself to focus, because I’d feel really bad if I crashed his car because I was daydreaming about his dreamy soft lips and his hazel eyes and all that stuff we did yesterday.
When I arrived at Little Black Hole, I drove around to the back lane and parked in the small lot—in Cary’s spot, the one with the little sign that said Reserved 24 Hrs. He’d called while I was driving to tell me I could park there.
Even though he owned the studio, it seemed kind of strange that there was still a designated spot for him. Knowing Cary, though, it was probably one of those things he’d just forgotten about or overlooked. And possibly the staff didn’t want to say anything about it because they liked him?
Or maybe they feared him?
I wondered, as I got out of the car and wrestled the giant gift basket I’d picked up on the way over out of the backseat, what Cary’s relationship with his staff was really like. And what they thought of him.
I really hoped I wasn’t about to discover that they thought he was a giant weirdo and trash talked him behind his back. Because if so, I was definitely gonna have to tell him that shit. Gently. I couldn’t abide by that bullshit, even if it might initially hurt him.
Cary deserved better than the crap I’d seen about him online, and he definitely didn’t need his staff spreading it.
His parking spot was right by the back door, which had a small plaque on it that simply said Little Black Hole, but when I tried it, it was locked. So I went in the front door, where I found an entranceway that was closed off to the stairwell. There was an intercom system on the wall, so I found the button for LBH and buzzed.
“Hello,” a woman answered.
“Hi, this is Cary’s assistant, Tay—” The buzzer sound cut me off as I was promptly buzzed in. I opened the heavy door and wrestled the gift basket through, then slogged up the stairs. I really might’ve considered getting a smaller gift basket, in retrospect, but this was the best one. I reached yet another door at the top of the stairs, and thankfully someone opened it from the inside for me.
“Hey. Taylor, right?” the woman said, trying to get out of the way of the basket. I could barely see her as I carried it through the door.
“Yes. Thank you. This is heavy…”
“Over there.” She pointed me at a desk that I could kind of see.
I lowered the basket slowly. “Am I about to crush anything?”
“Nope. You’re good.”
I set the gift basket down on the corner of the desk with relief and smiled at her. “Merritt?”
“That’s me.” Cary’s studio manager had long, dark hair with blunt bangs and wore a System of a Down T-shirt with a tattoo peeking out, and you know when you just liked someone instantly? This girl. I’d spoken to her on the phone half a dozen times already.
“So nice to meet you,” I said.
We shook hands and she said, “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“What?” I laughed a little.
“I mean, you’ve been doing a great job with Cary already. I can tell.” She breezed behind her desk and picked up her phone, hit a button, and said to whoever was on the other end, “Taylor’s here. Make sure everyone’s wearing pants. And then come help with a package, please.” She hung up and smiled at me as if to say, Some people’s children.
“Do they usually record music with their pants off?” I inquired.
“It’s very pants-optional back there. I’m just saying I’ve already caught both Ashley and Xander with their pants down, and not in a good way. Xander has a habit of leaving the bathroom door open, like he forgets women exist in the workplace or something. And Ashley just seems to prefer life without pants.”
Yeah, I was aware of that particular character trait in my best friend’s husband. “At least he has a nice butt,” I offered.
She rolled her eyes, like Not interested. “Can I just say I love having someone at Cary’s side who actually responds to my emails in a timely fashion? And who knows how to use a copier.”
“Cary doesn’t know how to make copies?”
“I just mean whenever he needs to scan me a signed document or something, it always comes through crooked or with something cut off and I have to fix it. It’s not his fault. He has more important things to worry about. Which is why he needs an assistant.”
“I agree. And thank you.”
Her eyebrow spiked up. “Are you planning on sticking around? Excuse my bluntness.”
“I am. Hopefully.”
“Well, I hope you do.”
“Thank you. And before I forget, I have these papers for you, from Cary.”
She too
k the paperwork I handed her, transported safely in a folder I’d tucked under my arm, and sifted through. “Thanks. See what I mean?”
“I just wanted to introduce myself and meet everyone, and maybe pop in to say hi to the band? Assuming they have their pants on. I think my girlfriend Danica is here.”
“She might be. I haven’t seen her, but they use the back door a lot.”
“Have they eaten lunch yet?”
“I have no idea.”
“Oh, okay. I just thought maybe you ordered in for them or something.”
“Oh, hell no,” Merritt said. “I’m here part time, I have two other jobs and my own kid. Frankly, it’s not my job to babysit rock stars, and that includes feeding and diapering them.”
I laughed at her frankness.
“Sorry.” She looked at me like she wondered if I was gonna badmouth her to Cary. “That was maybe a little crass.”
“I adore frank and crass.”
“As far as I know,” she said, “they’ve basically been redecorating the studio, smoking weed and drinking. Who ever said rock ’n’ roll is dead?”
“Not me.”
We both looked over as some guy wearing a baseball cap poked his head through a door. The reception area was basically a gray little room with Merritt’s desk and not much else. Not nearly as glam as I’d expected.
Merritt pointed him at the gift basket, and the dude loped into the room. “This is Isaac,” she informed me, “one of the long-suffering studio assistants here at Little Black Hole. Isaac, this is Cary’s assistant, Taylor.”
“Hey, nice to meet you,” Isaac said, shaking my hand.
“Likewise.”
“Come, I’ll show you the way,” Merritt said. “Isaac will bring the goodies.”
I followed Merritt into the hall, holding the door open for Isaac and the basket, and we headed deeper into the studio. As we passed beneath the simple, black Little Black Hole logo painted on the hall wall, I asked her, “So, what does Little Black Hole mean, anyway?”
“I really don’t know. It has something to do with Gabe Romanko.” Merritt glanced at me. “Cary’s old bandmate.”
“Right.”
“Other than that, I’m not sure,” she said. “Issac?”
“No idea,” Isaac said.
Merritt pointed at a door as we passed. “There’s another musician working in Studio B, the smaller one, through there. A country artist.”
“Huh. I didn’t know we had country artists in Vancouver.”
“We have a few. But she’s from Alabama.”
“Cool.” I was trying to act cool, but this was getting exciting. I’d never felt this way walking into the offices I’d worked in, in oil and gas, tech, even once when I worked in a video gaming studio. That place was way fancier than this, and fun. There was a snack lady who came around with a cart loaded with candy and treats every day, and beer on tap in the office kitchen, but this was way more interesting. I swore I could feel the lingering energy of the bands who’d made music here.
And back here, the walls weren’t so bare. They were lined with framed, autographed photos of musicians who’d presumably recorded here. I tried not to gawk at them as we passed.
“Various other artists will be using that studio while the Players are camped out in the illustrious Studio A,” Merritt explained. She pushed through a door into another hallway with several doors off of it and a big, open room on our right. The Players were there, sprawled across the furniture, with the remnants of takeout pizza laid out on a big table. Music equipment was strewn everywhere.
And I could immediately see my best friend’s touch. There were cushy pillows all over the place, some giant pouf ottomans on the floor, a hammock in one corner. Danica had been sending me pics of the stuff she’d been picking out for this room. When her husband’s band asked her to come decorate the studio, she’d been so excited. I was pretty sure this was her favorite project she’d ever worked on.
I was pretty sure it was Summer, actually—the only female member of the band—who’d begged her to come down and class the place up.
“Taylor!” Danica jumped to her feet from the cuddle puddle on the floor where she’d been lounging with Ash, and came to greet me. I gave her a hug as Isaac set the giant basket on the table next to the pizza boxes.
“It looks incredible in here,” I told her.
“Thanks.” She looked around thoughtfully. “It was kind of a barren box before. Like the inside of an old garage. I warmed it up a little.”
“A lot,” Merritt said.
As I looked around, the band members waved at me languidly from where they were lounging. And Merritt had called it. The guys were indeed smoking up. Ash, sprawled in a pile of cushions on the floor, puffed and passed to Matt, who was talking on his phone to someone.
“You guys look like royalty,” I said. “You don’t even have to smoke your weed outside?”
“They’re supposed to,” Merritt said, giving Matt a look.
Matt flashed us a charming, don’t-be-mad-at-me-I’m-just-a-handsome-rock-star smile, tucked the joint into his mouth, and vanished out the back door with the Exit sign over it.
“Come on,” Merritt said to me. “I’ll introduce you around.”
She took me up the hall, introducing me briefly to the two other staff members she could find. When we came back into the big room, she introduced me to the engineer who was working on the Players’ album. He’d materialized from somewhere, possibly drawn by the gift basket Isaac was now poring over; he was dangling in the hammock, and like the band, looked like he was in a pizza-induced coma.
I brushed the pizza boxes aside and started unwrapping the giant gift basket; it was filled with gourmet snacks. Danica helped me start laying everything out across the table.
“Hungry?” I asked Isaac, who was still hovering, practically salivating as he perused the offerings.
“I missed the pizza.”
“Well, there’s lots here. What does a studio assistant do, anyway?” I asked him, handing him a muffin he was eying. “Besides chivalrously carry oversized gift baskets for the ladies, of course.”
“Well,” he said, “my job is—”
“He follows us around, making notes on his tablet,” Ash said lazily from his food coma on the floor. “Which guitar I’m playing, what coffee I’m drinking—”
“If you took a shit this morning…” Xander put in.
“Hey.” I smacked Xander’s hand away as he tried to grab a muffin. He was splayed out on the couch next to the table where I was laying out the food. “Don’t give him a hard time. It’s his job. And I’m sure he works harder than you do.” I wasn’t sure of that, but hey, it was fun giving Xander a hard time.
“Give the woman space,” Danica said, laughing. “You’re like wolves. You just had lunch anyway. I saw every single one of you inhale an entire pizza.”
“I did not,” Summer said from her perch at a high table where she was working on a laptop, half-listening to us.
“Except Summer,” Danica clarified.
“I inhaled an entire pizza plus a slice of Summer’s,” Xander groaned.
“I really hope you all plan to accomplish something in here besides gaining weight,” Danica ventured. She raised an eyebrow at me. “So Cary doesn’t end up regretting all this studio time he’s giving you.”
“Giving?” Xander said. “We earned this shit.”
I smacked his hand away as he reached for a muffin again. “Well, I’m sure he’s earned it,” I said, nodding at Isaac. “FYI, I brought these for the staff. You rock stars can get your own. But maybe after they’re done, you can have what’s left.”
Xander gave me an eye-roll and Ash, who’d finally dragged himself up off the floor, plucked the muffin out of Isaac’s hand. Isaac helped himself to another one.
“What’s that?” Ash said, as I pulled a small bag out of my purse.
“Well, I figured you guys probably weren’t supposed to smoke in here. So I g
ot you some edibles.” I laid out the half-dozen packages of edibles I’d picked up for them at the weed dispensary.
“Whaaaat.” Ash picked one up. “Why is your best friend so cool?” he asked his wife.
“I dunno.” Danica shrugged. “Just is.”
“Those are chocolates, which you might want to stash in the fridge,” I said. “And there are gummies, too.”
Ash wrapped his hand around the back of my head and kissed me firmly on the forehead. “You’re a sweetheart, Taylor. Don’t let any asshole tell you different.”
Danica grinned at me.
Isaac leaned in to peruse the gummies. “So, you keep track of everything they do in here?” I asked him, wondering if maybe I should’ve thought the edibles thing through a little better.
“Yup. Cary needs to know all that shit,” he said through a mouthful. “You do not wanna be there if he asks you which guitar you played last Tuesday and you don’t remember.”
“Why? What does he do?” Summer asked, intrigued. “Does he flip out?”
“Cary doesn’t flip out,” Merritt put in, studying a packet of edibles.
“Yeah, he just gets really quiet on you,” Isaac said, “and you feel like the worst human who ever walked the planet.”
“Powerful,” Summer remarked, just as her man, Ronan, the Players’ head of security, walked in through the back door. “And how do you like working with him, Taylor?”
“Working with who?” Ronan said, as he leaned on the table where Summer was working.
“Cary,” Summer said, and after she gave Ronan a kiss, they both looked at me.
Xander looked at me, clearly awaiting the answer to that.
“Uh… He’s been very nice to me.”
Now everyone looked at me. Everyone.
Was that weird? Did I say it weird?
Did I say it like what I really meant was We had hot sex on his couch last night… after he ate me out in his studio?
“What?” I said, when they all kept staring at me. “How do you all like working with him?”
“We like working with him just fine,” Summer said diplomatically.
I glanced at Isaac. “He’s a great employer,” he said through a mouthful of muffin.
Lovely Madness: A Players Rockstar Romance (Players, Book 4) Page 19