Grumpy Boss

by Hamel, B. B.

  Rees glanced at me, then pulled out the chair. I went to sit, but Giana leapt up and walked over to me. “I’m going to borrow this one. Have some girl time.”

  I blinked at her, but before I could argue, she had her arm through mine, and was tugging me to the back door. Rees didn’t seem to care, too busy staring down Linus, who wsa too busy staring right back. They were having a dick measuring contest, and Giana was right, I didn’t need to be present for that.

  Although I was a little curious which was bigger.

  Giana took me out the back door. She sat on a swinging bench and stretched her back as she lit another cigarette. She offered me one, but I turned it down, and sat in a chair, legs curled under me.

  “Everyone thinks being a musician is so glamorous,” she said, taking a deep drag. “But it’s all flying around, playing gigs, recording whenever you get a chance, and hoping you don’t fuck up somehow. So far, so good, I guess.” She sighed and looked out over the green, lush lawn, at the overgrown bushes and trees. A small fountain bubbled away, and the grass was a little too long.

  “What is this place, anyway?” I asked.

  “Recording studio,” she said. “Owned by this weird guy. But everything he touches comes out amazing, so I keep coming back. I don’t know why I bother, everyone in Italia doesn’t give a shit about any of this.”

  “But you’re doing pretty well for yourself,” I said, trying to imagine what it would be like, living without a home. She seemed bitter and tired and strung out, and I guessed smoking cigarettes was one way to keep herself sane. No matter where she went, they were always the same.

  “Well enough,” she said, then grinned at me. “You know, I’ve never met one of his assistants before.”

  “I’m new,” I said, looking away. I hoped she wouldn’t realize I was full of shit. She’d known Rees for years, she said, and maybe it would be safe to tell her the truth—but no, not without his approval, I won’t take that risk.

  “Of course you are. How’d you end up with him?”

  “My cousin knows him.” I shifted toward her a little. “How do you know him?”

  “Met at my first release party. He owned the club and showed up and we sort of just hit it off. Not like, sexually, but as friends, and I guess we kept in touch over the years.” She laughed and shook her head. “I never thought anyone would mistake us for being together.”

  “Why’s that such a hard thing to imagine?” I asked. I could see Giana with Rees: they were both absurdly attractive, and Rees was rich as sin. He could easily give her the life she wanted and so much more, if she asked for it.

  “I’ve never seen Rees with a woman for more than one night in all this time,” she said, smiling to herself, and taking another long drag. She let it out slowly. “He’s not the type to get tied down.”

  “I figured that,” I said, tilting my head. “I mean, he’s a rich bachelor.”

  “It’s more than that, I think,” she said, but didn’t elaborate. She seemed something heavy about her, like a weight pressed her into the chair. When she looked at me again, she forced a smile. “He’s charming though, isn’t he? In that sort of mean, snarly sort of way.”

  I looked down at my fingernails. They were bitten short and chipped. “I guess, if you like that sort of thing.”

  She laughed lightly and sighed. “So tell me, why are you two really here? I don’t think he actually cares if Linus is mad at him.”

  “He wants to meet with Lady Fluke,” I said, glancing up again, and rubbing my nails against my shirt.

  Giana seemed surprised. “I thought they were close,” she said thoughtfully.

  “Lady Fluke is your husband’s second cousin,” I said, shifting nervously.

  Giana groaned. “That’s right. And she’s such a tight ass. Let me guess, she’s angry about this affair rumor?”

  “That’s it, yeah. We’re hoping Linus could talk to her and get us a meeting. It’s really important, otherwise we wouldn’t bother you.” I felt bad, doing this behind Rees’s back, but I thought Giana would listen, and she might actually help.

  She took another slow drag then gestured at me with the cigarette. “You’re involved with him somehow, aren’t you? More than just an assistant.”

  I leaned back, eyes wide a little. “Uh, no it’s not—“

  She laughed and interrupted me. “It’s fine, I’m just teasing you. Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Linus after the boys straighten everything out and convince him to help.”

  I let out a breath and stretched my legs out. For as much as I wanted to learn more about Rees before I met him, I wanted to get out of this conversation even more. Giana was too perceptive and her constant attention made my antsy, like she was going to find out about my deepest, darkest secret simply by sitting there and smoking. She had an aura about her, and it was beginning to freak me out. I could totally see why she was famous.

  Rees rescued me ten minutes later, after more agonizing small talk and pointed questions about my life back home. She didn’t give much away, but I left with the impression that we were friends now—somehow, strangely, but friends.

  “How’d that go?” I asked Rees as we walked through the front room. One of the girls was snoring softly, and the music had switched from thumping rock and roll to a quiet piano melody. It was almost haunting.

  “He’s not going to try and kill me anymore,” Rees said. “I think that’s a success.”

  “Giana asked me about Lady Fluke and I told her what we need,” I said. “I think she’s going to talk to Linus for us.”

  He frowned at me for a second and stopped when he reached the gravel drive. I could tell he didn’t like that—his eyes flashed with annoyance. “We should’ve talked about that first,” he said softly.

  “I didn’t have a chance,” I said. “It came up naturally.”

  He grimaced, like he wanted to argue but stopped himself. I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling strangely defiant. I wasn’t his real assistant—he couldn’t actually punish me for doing something wrong, even if he wanted to.

  “Come on then,” he said, walking to the car without another word.

  I smiled a little and thought of what Giana said about him—attractive, if you’re into the grumpy thing. And maybe I was, or at least the more time I spent with him, the more intensely I began to feel there could be something between us.

  Which I had to ignore if I was going to survive this whole situation.

  8

  Rees

  We traveled straight from Memphis to L.A. and slept in the plane. Or at least Millie slept—I spent the night drifting between a light nap and staring out the window at the black clouds drifting past.

  She went off script back at that house. I wished she’d waited and talked to me first, but it worked out in the end. Linus convinced Fluke to see me, although from the sound of things, it was a very reluctant meeting. Still, we got on her calendar, and now I had a chance to finish this at least.

  Millie shifted to the side in her seat across the aisle. That was the good thing about private: we had all the space we needed.

  Giana said something to Millie out on that porch. She’d been a little strange ever since their conversation. I didn’t know what they talked about, but I could only imagine it wasn’t great for me. Giana knew me too well and for too long, and she knew where all the skeletons were buried.

  Not that I had any, of course.

  It was all so tenuous and fragile and complicated: my friendship with Giana and Lady Fluke, this deal with Alfie, and whatever was blooming between me and Millie. I wished she could understand our position, and what it meant that Desmond was hell bent on destroying me again—but she lacked the context, the years and years of anger and resentment.

  That was probably for the best. She slept like a baby, and I hoped that never changed.

  * * *

  We were met by Lady Fluke’s assistant at the airport. She was a young woman dressed in a prim pant suit, her black hair slicke
d back, her frown tugging down into a reproving glare. She looked so much like Fluke that it was almost absurd.

  “The Lady is very busy,” her assistant said, a young woman named Judith. She escorted us out into the perfect L.A. afternoon, sun shining, not a drop of humidity in the air. Her black sedan was double parked against the curb, and a cop lingered nearby, looking like he wanted to ticket it. She ignored him and climbed inside.

  I sat up front, Millie got in the back. “I’m hoping the Lady can see us soon,” I said.

  Judith shrugged as she pulled aggressively into traffic, and was not shy about using her horn. “Fucker,” she muttered under her breath, then glanced at me. “Look, I’ll be real with you. I hate doing airport pick-ups, so this has me on edge, okay?”

  “That’s fair,” I said, trying not to smile.

  “Fluke’s pissed at you,” Judith said. “Whatever you did to get back on her good side wasn’t enough. I doubt she’ll actually take this meeting.”

  My jaw clenched and I took a deep breath. “She’s ducking me,” I said, trying not to sound pissed.

  If Judith noticed my anger, she didn’t care. “Yep, she is, and I don’t really care about whatever’s going on between you two. All I know is, she’s unhappy, and it’s my job to make her happy again.”

  “Sounds like a little much for an assistant,” I said, and she glared at me. I smiled back sweetly. “Besides, this is Lady Fluke we’re talking about. She doesn’t do happy.”

  Judith sighed, then swung the wheel and merged like a psychopath into the next lane. I glanced over my shoulder and Millie stared out the window, her face as white as snow, her finger clutching the seat.

  “What’s the deal between you two, anyway?” Judith asked.

  “We’re friends,” I said. “Or at least we were. I don’t think Lady Fluke has many friends. We have a lot in common, and see the world the same way.”

  “Got it,” Judith said. “You’re both miserable bastards then.”

  Millie barked a laugh from the back seat. “Damn right,” she said.

  I glared at her then back to Judith. “You don’t seem so pleasant yourself.”

  “Misery loves company,” she said, squinting ahead. “Alright, here’s the deal. I’ll drop you at your hotel, then you’re on your own. If Fluke’s going to see you, it’ll be tomorrow. Be available, just in case, but don’t get your hopes up. Like I said, she’s still pissed, whatever happened.”

  I leaned back and crossed my arms, staring out the windshield as Judith continued to drive like she was trying to win a NASCAR race. She wouldn’t be any help to me, so I decided not to press her. Besides, Fluke would see me, even if she was mad right now. I was one of her few friends, and she couldn’t afford to lose me.

  We were staying at the Four Seasons in Beverly Hills. Flake was staying nearby, at the Mondrian in West Hollywood. Judith practically threw us out onto the curb then sped off, her tires kicking up rubber into the air as she sped off and flew into traffic, honking her horn wildly.

  “That woman is insane,” Millie said, shouldering her bag. “Seriously, who drives like that?”

  “Lady Fluke knows how to pick them,” I said, then pushed forward inside with Millie on my heels.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked, staying close. “If Fluke won’t see us, we’re kind of screwed.”

  “Alfie’s kind of screwed,” I said through clenched teeth. “But she’ll see me.”

  “Judith didn’t seem so sure.”

  “Judith is new and doesn’t know a damn thing,” I said, and stopped, looking around at the marble floor and absurd opulence. Hollywood was as rich as it was tacky. Men lunged nearby in deep chairs wearing tuxedos that cost as much as a car and women lingered in groups talking quietly amongst themselves as light glittered off their jewels. All fake, all smoke and mirrors. That was Hollywood. I didn’t know why Fluke was here, but I couldn’t wait to leave.

  Millie stood next to me, close enough to touch shoulders. “How many rooms did you get?” she asked almost casually.

  I glanced at her and tried to hide my smile. “One,” I said.

  “Of course.” She looked down at the ground and sighed. “You’re on the couch.”

  “We’ll see about that.” I strode off toward the front desk, and I heard Millie grumbling behind me.

  * * *

  The line outside Club Questions stretched around the block. Millie gaped at all the people, girls in their tight, short dresses, men in their best jeans and button downs, and hurried to keep up with me as I walked past them all. We got more than a few dirty looks, but fuck them. I was in my best suit, black Armani, fit me like a dream, and Millie wore a simple cocktail dress, a little too formal for a normal club, but would work in this town.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, grabbing at my elbow.

  “We’re skipping the line,” I said. “I know the owner.”

  “I thought we were having dinner,” she said, sounding annoyed. Earlier, I’d convinced her to come out with me by dangling a good meal in front of her. I neglected to tell her that our table was in a very loud, and very packed club, and there was actually no food, only bottle service.

  “We’re working,” I said as we approached the door man. He was a big guy with a shaved head and a glare that would melt ice. “My name’s Rees. I’m on the list.”

  He grunted and swiped at a tablet—then seemed surprised. “Okay, Mr. Court, right this way.” He opened the rope for us and a few people up front groaned.

  I ignored them as we headed inside. Millie hurried after me, and we went from the relative calm of the sidewalk, to the pulse-pounding noise of a very crowded and very loud club.

  “What the hell are we doing here?” Millie yelled into my ear. “Shouldn’t we be preparing for Lady Fluke?”

  “There’s someone I want to meet with,” I said, leaning back to press my lips practically against her neck. She shivered under my touch, and I wanted to move up toward her chin and her mouth. “He’s an investor. Owns this place. Old friend.”

  “Is that how you’re on the list?” she asked, frowning.

  “I called ahead,” I said, then took her hand. “Come on, stay close.”

  We waded through the crowd. Fluke was going to try and push me off, which was fine for one night at least. She wasn’t the only person with money in this town, and I wasn’t going to waste this trip if she decided not to meet with us.

  Loud, drunk girls traveled in packs, and louder, drunker men hit on them with the tact of a starving tiger. It wasn’t my kind of place: the bar was packed three-deep and there were few open tables. Everything was tacky, bright, glowing, and loud, but the drinks were flowing, and I could practically see how much money passed through this place on a good night. The lights pulsed with the music, a strange blinking harmony and Millie looked like she’d rather be anywhere but this club, and I couldn’t blame her.

  I took her past the bar and up a set of back stairs. Another bouncer stood at the top, took my name, and let us through a large black door into a quieter section. There was another bar and more tables and chairs, these occupied by groups of men and women, different from those below: cleaner, less drunk, less intense. They spoke with concentration to each other, and while the music from downstairs bled through the floor, the vibe wasn’t a party.

  “Better,” I said, sitting at the bar. “Now, what will you drink?”

  “Nothing,” Millie said. “I still don’t know why we’re here.”

  I sighed, ordered a gin and tonic for her and a whisky for myself, then looked over my shoulder at the booth in the back corner. A man sat with a newspaper in front of him, reading glasses perched on his nose. He had bleached blond hair, a skinny, pock-marked face, and a loud, garish shirt.

  “That man there with the paper, that’s Kevin Gala,” I said as the bartender placed our drinks down in front of us. I picked mine up and took a sip, and Millie ignored hers. “He owns this place, and ten other places like it. He’s
the kind of man with money to spare, but never seems to invest it anywhere.”

  “And you think he’ll give you money for your SPAC?” she asked, leaning close to me. I glanced over at her chest, then up at her eyes. She noticed me looking—but didn’t seem to mind. That was good to know.

  “He might,” I said. “I think I’ll plant the seed.”

  “And if things don’t work out with Lady Fluke, we’ll have him to fall back on,” she said, letting out a breath. “Okay, I guess I understand why we’re here. But I’m still hungry.”

  “We’ll eat later,” I said. “Let’s go talk to him first.”

  “You know, the last time we were in a club like this, you punched a guy in the face for me.” She leaned against my shoulder, grinning up at me through her eyelashes. “You’re not going to get in a fight again, are you?”

  “I promise, so long as nobody disrespects you, I’ll keep my fists to myself.”

  She laughed, light and gentle. “What a man, protecting my honor.”

  I took a long drink of whisky then stood up. “Come on, let’s get this over with then get you fed.”

  She stood and followed me across the room. I recognized several people there, and nodded to one man that worked for a rival investment firm. I was sure he’d be out gossiping about this moment the second I left, but it didn’t matter. Kevin was not the kind of man that cared much for rumors or hearsay, or anything beyond his money and his clubs.

  “Rees,” he said as I approached, genuine smile on his lips. He put down the newspaper and leaned forward on his elbows. A coffee steamed nearby, smelling dark and chocolate. Kevin lived his life shifted—he woke late, and went to bed early in the morning. He was physically present at this club every single night, and went through this ritual each evening, acting out a normal morning for any other human, except in the middle of the night. He’d travel to his other spots throughout the evening, until the early morning, and I was lucky to have caught him before he left.