Two Times the Mountain Men (Menage MFM Romance)

by Terry Towers

  “Can’t you just tell him I died?”

  “You died? I see. How exactly did you die?”

  “I don’t know, Alyssa, I contracted that skin eating disease and now I’m dead.”

  “You contracted necrotizing fasciitis?” I could hear her sigh of exasperation through the phone.

  “Sure, let’s go with that.” I was only halfway serious.

  “Even if I could pass off that story, he mentioned he saw you in the eatery downstairs this morning getting a bagel.”

  “Oh. Won’t work, huh?” That was the best I could come up with, as it seemed going to see the big boss was non-optional.

  “I don’t think he’s going to buy that. Girl, stop being such a cynic. You never know, it might be a good thing”

  “It’s rarely a good thing when he calls you to his office. I’m still waiting for him to shit on me for losing my last client. I know it’s coming. I’m lucky I still have a job. And the day had started off so well. Going to see Carter is going to ruin it.”

  “You’ve done a fuck-ton of good work for this firm. Stop beating yourself up. People lose clients all the time. You lost one, big deal. That band had no future anyhow, they did you a favor. Now you don’t have to waste your time on a band that was going nowhere and focus on other prospects.”

  I sighed. I supposed she was right, though I doubted Carter would see it that way.

  “Okay, fine. Tell the boss man that I’ll be right up. Give me fifteen.”

  “You got it.” I could practically hear the smile in Alyssa’s voice. “Make it ten.”

  Hanging up the phone, I slumped back into my leather chair, closing my eyes. When I decided I wanted to manage musical talent, I had it in my head that it would be glitz and glamor with some work thrown in. Over the years I quickly discovered how wrong I had been. My father had also been a talent manager, and he had made it look so easy growing up. But when it came right down to it, in way too many instances, I felt like I was a babysitter for demanding and self-entitled adults.

  Maybe it was time for a career change?

  “Here goes nothing,” I muttered, pushing back my chair and standing. I just had to go in there with confidence and it would all be fine. Leaving my office, I made my way to the elevators and pushed the up button.

  The elevator chimed and the doors slid open. Stepping inside, I pushed the button for my boss, Carter Anderson’s, floor, and the doors quickly slid closed. On my short journey upward I gave myself a quick pep talk. By the time the doors slid back open again there was a smile on my face and a confidence in my stride that I didn’t necessarily feel inside.

  The one thing I did learn from the artists that I’d represented was that confidence was everything. Even if you didn’t quite feel it inside, if you could fake it well enough then the world was your oyster.

  Turning left, I opened the glass door leading to Carter’s office to be greeted by Alyssa. I was momentarily struck with envy over her long, dark curls, which she had tied up in a ponytail. I’d always wanted to have naturally curly hair.

  “You can go right in.” Alyssa smiled and motioned to the closed door to her left.

  “Thanks.” Crossing the room, I stood in front of the door and put my hand on the door handle. This was it. Time to face the music.

  “For the love of God, just go in,” Alyssa softly hissed, her dark eyes narrowing at me.

  Turning my head to face my friend I stuck my tongue out at her and turned the handle. Regaining my composure, I opened the door and stepped inside, closing the door behind me.

  Carter was busy signing something on his desk, so I waited just inside the door for him to acknowledge me. Carter was forty-eight and his once-dark hair and goatee were now nearly overtaken with gray. The gray on Carter didn’t make him look old, but distinguished. If he weren’t twenty years my senior, and my boss, I’d have found him quite attractive. Lifting his head, he nodded toward the chair on the opposite side of the desk. “Take a seat.”

  “Thanks.” I hurried across the room and took a seat. The walls of his office were lined with photos of him with various musicians, many of whom were considered legends in the industry. My gaze landed on one picture in particular: it was a picture of Carter with my father. My father was a legend in his own right. He was considered one of the most influential band managers of the past twenty years. He’d died just a few years ago of a heart attack. He was on the road at the time touring with an up-and-coming band, while I was home attending college.

  “I miss him too.”

  Carter’s voice pulled me from my short trip down memory lane. I gave him a weak smile, pushing the sad feelings from me. “So, what’s up? If it’s about—”

  “Don’t.” Carter put his hand up, stopping me. “I don’t even want to talk about the whole fiasco with Luke and the boys. They weren’t going anywhere in this industry anyhow. It just saves us from cutting them.”

  I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding until that moment and slumped back into the leather chair. “Thank you. I’ll make it up to you with the next group. I swear to God.”

  He smiled, a twinkle in his hazel eyes that I wasn’t entirely comfortable with. He had something up his sleeve.

  My eyes narrowed at him. “What’s going on? I don’t like that look in your eyes, Carter.”

  “There’s no look, Violet. It just so happens I have a new group for you. We’ll have to reassign your current clients to other agents.”

  Sitting up straight in my chair, I grasped the arm rests, immediately becoming defensive. “Just hold on a damned minute, Carter. You can’t just take my clients from me! They’re mine. Just because I fucked up with the last one doesn’t give you the right to—”

  “Dear God, do you ever shut up, Violet? Just shush a minute.” His father-like no-nonsense tone stopped my childish tirade right in its tracks.

  “Sorry.”

  “Your father was an amazing manager and a legend in this industry. I see the same talent in you and I think the problem is that you haven’t been challenged enough.”

  “Challenged?” What in the hell did me mean by that?

  “Exactly. I’m reassigning your current clients because I have one special group of clients for you.”

  My brow creased as I stared at him, waiting for further explanation.

  “Hypnotic have just fired their manager and are on the prowl for someone new. I would take them on myself, but as you know I just can’t give them the time and attention that such high-profile clients deserve and still run this firm.”

  My heart stopped for a moment. I obviously wasn’t hearing correctly. There was so much wrong with the idea of me managing that group that it would take an hour just to make up the extremely long list. Not to mention the fact that the two leads had a really bad reputation.

  “You’re joking.”

  His expression told me he was far from joking. “Hypnotic is one of the hottest bands in the world today. This is going to fast-track your career and make you a name in the business, Violet.”

  My mouth dropped open. I had no words. Make my career? Sure, managing them could make my career. It could also destroy my career. If I took them on and fucked it up, I’d be blackballed in this industry; it wouldn’t matter who my father was. I’d be done and working at McDonalds. Not that there was anything wrong with that, it was just that it wasn’t my dream. What I was doing now was my dream.

  Thinking back, I knew of two managers they’d had who after being fired never worked in this industry again. Not to mention their reputation. Not that any of the rumors were verified, but the word was that they were womanizers and prima donnas.

  “What’s your problem? I thought you’d be excited. Are you not good enough to handle them?”

  “That’s not it at all, Carter.”

  “Then what is it?”

  I ran a hand through my hair and shook my head. “I can handle anything you throw at me.”

  “Good.”

  �
�But, I’ve heard a lot of bad things about them.”

  “Like?” He raised a brow at me. Dammit, this wasn’t going well.

  “They’re cocky and demanding. They’re partiers.”

  “As are most musicians. Comes with the territory. That’s why working with them pays so much.”

  This was a damned-if-I-do, damned-if-I-don’t type of situation.

  “Look.” He leaned forward and braced his elbows on the top of his desk. “I think what they need is someone like you. You’re still quite fresh in the business. You let things roll off your back. And I’ll be honest, you’re a beautiful woman and I think they’ll respond to that.”

  Anger welled up within me. “Am I supposed to be their manager or their whore?” The comment came out so fast I didn’t have a chance to stop it. Immediately I recoiled and braced myself for the scolding of a lifetime. Yes, he may have been my father’s friend, but he was my boss first and foremost and I knew better then to be so defiant. If I’d been anyone else, Carter Anderson would have thrown me out on my ear for less.

  “Out of respect to your father I’m going to let that little childish outburst pass.”

  “I apologize. I’m just a little afraid I’ll be in over my head with them.”

  “You won’t be. I wouldn’t assign them to you if I didn’t think it would be a good fit.”

  Running a shaky hand through my hair, I sighed. “They’re the biggest stars on the planet right now.”

  “Don’t shy away from challenges, Violet. With big risks come big rewards.”

  “It could ruin me in this industry.”

  “It could fast-track your career and make you a name in this industry,” he countered.

  My thoughts wandered to my father. He took a lot of risks in his lifetime and it made him one of the most sought-after band managers in history. I was his daughter. I may have been relatively new to managing bands personally, but I’d grown up in the industry. Perhaps Carter was right and I was ready for this? I could handle a couple of cocky playboys.

  Straightening up in my chair, I smiled, fueled by my newfound confidence. “Okay. You have yourself a deal. I’ll manage them, but I’ll be doing it my way and if they whine, I need your word that you’ll back me up.”

  He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers under his chin. “You have yourself a deal.”

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