“I don’t think I have time. Julian—”
“Sit!”
Toni perched on the edge of a blue club chair and clenched her fingers into her long skirt. She wasn’t sure what it was about this woman that ratcheted her anxiety into the stratosphere. Toni didn’t handle disapproval well. She always strived to make everyone happy, and she couldn’t figure out how to make Susan happy with her—besides giving up her assignment with Exodus End and allowing Susan to take her place. But Toni refused to back down in this case. She wasn’t afraid to go after what she wanted; she just didn’t want much. But she did want to make this interactive biography a success, even if it meant telling Susan to go fuck herself. Toni rubbed her lips together. Okay, no, she doubted she’d ever be able to say something so crass to anyone’s face, but she’d think it, by God.
Susan slid a legal pad across her desk. “Here are the interview questions I came up with.”
Toni read upside down. Which musician living or dead would you most want to spend a day with? She blinked hard so she wouldn’t roll her eyes. She was pretty sure fans didn’t care which musician the members of Exodus End would want to hang out with. She sure didn’t. Toni picked up the legal pad, however, and stuffed it into her messenger bag.
“I still don’t think you’ll be able to handle this job,” Susan said.
“I disagr—”
“You’ll probably spontaneously combust at the sight of them.”
Well, they were incredibly attractive men. All four of them, but—
“And the way you dress?” Susan shook her head. “You won’t fit in with a group of rock stars. They’re not going to open up to someone like you.”
Pressure began to build behind Toni’s eyes. “Someone like—?”
“You have absolutely no experience as a reporter. I’ve interviewed hundreds of musicians over the years. How many have you interviewed?” Susan’s voice was beginning to rise, and that scary vein over her left eye bulged.
“Well—”
“Zero! That’s how many. You know you wouldn’t have gotten this assignment if your mother didn’t own the company, right? I mean you hardly ever come in to the office . . .”
That was because Toni did most of her work from home so she could take care of Birdie.
“. . . and you have no field experience. So what if you can code and do graphic design and write? You can’t talk. Journalists have to know how to talk.”
She might have talked if Susan had shut her mouth for more than half a second.
“If you can’t talk, you can’t ask questions. So what good are you?”
Susan actually paused long enough for a response. What good was she? Toni didn’t know. She wouldn’t know until she tried. But every point Susan made was valid. Toni didn’t have any experience interviewing musicians—or anyone famous, for that matter. She wouldn’t fit in with the crew on tour with the band or the fans and definitely not four famous rock stars. Toni’s chest tightened, and she fought the flood of tears that suddenly burned her eyes. What she needed right now was a pep talk, not to be berated and belittled by a jealous cow.
“Are you seriously going to cry right now?” Susan asked, tilting her head forward so that her silky burgundy hair swung over one sharp blue eye. The silver hoop that pierced the corner of one of Susan’s nostrils caught the light and Toni’s attention. Susan would fit in better with a rock band. Toni couldn’t deny it.
“No.” Not at that very minute. Toni could at least hold it together until she found a bathroom before she unleashed a torrent of tears.
“I don’t know why I’m so worried that you’ll fuck this up.” Susan laughed hollowly. “You’ll take one look at the tour bus and flee in terror.”
Toni lifted her chin, which betrayed her by quivering most annoyingly. “I won’t.”
“We’ll see. You mother already told me that if you fail, I can take back the job I was hired to do. I guess I’d better start packing. You’ll be home by midnight.”
“You only know how to do interviews. You don’t know how to do anything else this job requires,” Toni said.
“I’ll send all the information to you and you can make it pretty and flow together into a book. That’s what you’re good at.”
It was what she was good at. Design. In the past, Toni had been forced to use the information, photographs, illustrations, videos and audio clips that someone else had decided were important for making an amazing interactive book. For this project, she was in charge of collecting everything necessary to capture the men behind the rock stars. And she was determined to wow everyone with this biography. Even Susan. And maybe her mom would realize that Toni was most valuable as a creative asset to Nichols Publishing, not as the head of it. Toni had to get this book right the first time. Mom wasn’t big on second chances.
“Call me on Monday to check in,” Susan said dismissively. “Unless you’re already back in town. Then let me know so I can meet up with the band at their next tour stop.”
“I’m not going to fail,” Toni said. She lifted her chin another notch. “I can do this.”
Susan rolled her eyes and turned toward her computer, dismissing Toni without a word.
Toni scooped herself out of the chair, uncomfortably aware of her trembling knees. If Susan intimidated her this easily, how would Toni ever hold her own with a bunch of cocky rock stars?
She lifted her camera case and slung the strap of her bag over one shoulder. “I’m not going to fail,” she said resolutely and rushed out of the office, slamming the door on the corner of her messenger bag, completely negating the finality of her angry exit.
She fled to the bathroom down the hall. Hot tears slipped down her cheeks as she shut herself into the largest of the three stalls. She dropped her case on the floor, then yanked toilet paper from the roll and dabbed at her eyes beneath her glasses. Why was Susan so mean to her? Toni was nice to everyone, whether they deserved her kindness or not. She didn’t understand how anyone could say such cruel things to someone else. It was almost as if Susan wanted to rattle her. Wanted her to fail. No one could really be that much of a selfish jerk, could they?
Toni dropped the tear-soggy toilet paper into the bowl and yanked another length off the roll.
“Are you in here, Toni?” a familiar, masculine voice called into the bathroom.
“You can’t come in here, Julian,” Toni called to him. She blew her nose before reaching for more toilet paper.
“Did Susan make you cry again?”
“N-no.”
She heard the door close and took a deep, shaky breath, glad Julian had left. She wasn’t quite ready to face him yet. Her tears had stopped, but her nose was still running like a leaky faucet. He’d recognize that she was lying as soon as he saw her.
“Toni, she’s a horrible jealous bitch,” Julian said through the crack in the stall door. “Don’t let her hurt your feelings.”
“Julian! This is a women’s restroom.”
“Trust me, honey, there isn’t a thing in here that interests me,” he said.
She could picture the disgusted sneer on his pretty boy face.
“Except making you smile. Now come on out of there.”
“In a minute.” She blew her nose again and rubbed her face with the palm of her hand.
“What did she say to you this time?” Julian asked.
“That I’m g-going to f-fail.” Toni dashed away a stray tear. God, why did she have to be so soft-hearted? It was a freaking nuisance.
“You aren’t going to fail,” Julian said. “You’re going to kick ass. I guarantee it.”
“What if the band members won’t talk to me?”
Julian released a soft laugh. “They’ll talk. They won’t be able to help themselves. Someone has to fill in your long bouts of absolute silence.”
She didn’t talk much. Especially to strangers. Her stomach lurched. Everyone around her on this tour would be strangers. Everyone.
“I’m terrified,” Toni admitted, mostly to he
rself. But Julian heard her.
“Of course you are. Who wouldn’t be? But you’re going to get past your fear and you’re going to get out there and make a fantastic, exciting life for yourself, because the one your mother made for you just doesn’t suit you.”
At least someone besides her recognized that.
Toni grinned, feeling loads better, and opened the stall door.
“There’s that smile,” Julian said, hugging her. “Now hurry the hell up. You have a tour bus to catch and four rock stars to befuddle with your sugary sweetness.”
In the company car, Toni snatched the cigarette out of Julian’s well-manicured hand and took a deep drag. Lungs burning and eyes watering, she choked before producing a hacking fit that would put a tuberculous patient to shame. There was a reason she didn’t smoke. Well, several actually. But an aversion to choking to death was at the top of her list.
Julian took his eyes off the freeway long enough to give her his what-the-fuck-is-your-problem look before retrieving his cigarette and settling it between his thin lips. “You don’t need nicotine, honey,” he said around the filter. “What you need is Valium. Or Xanax. Actually, both would do you some good.”
“Are you suggesting I need to be drugged?” she asked, giving her mother’s personal assistant the evil eye.
Julian was the closest thing she had to a non-blood-related friend. Occasionally he made her leave the house and go out on the town. Unfortunately, they always ended up in gay bars, which was entertaining enough but didn’t do much for her romantic prospects. But they weren’t crawling through stadium-event traffic to embark on a social adventure. Toni was about to get on the tour bus of the most well-known metal band in the world—hell, even she had heard of Exodus End and she mostly listened to classic rock. She’d gone from uncertain to nervous wreck the moment she’d fastened her seat belt. Just thinking about touring with the band made her stomach do summersaults, backflips, and cartwheels. She had an Olympic-level gymnastics meet going inside her.
“Did you remember to shave your legs?” Julian asked. He took a nonchalant drag off his cigarette before holding it between two fingers against the steering wheel. They were inching along the interstate at a snail’s pace. She probably could have gotten there faster if she’d walked.
Toni scowled, thinking that was the oddest thing Julian had ever asked her and the man had no filter. “Why does it matter? Did you cut off all my skirts so they barely cover my ass?” Turning her conservative clothing into ho-garb was something he would do.
Julian laughed. “Damn, why didn’t I think of that?”
As they neared the Mercer Street exit, Julian switched on his blinker to merge. Space Needle, Science Center, Key Arena Toni read on the directional signs. She was one step closer to her destination. She pursed her lips together to keep her dinner down.
“So did you shave them or not?” he asked.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, they’re silky smooth. Why?”
“So you are expecting to get laid tonight,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “I thought your frumpy sweater was a little tighter than usual. Showing off the goods for a change?”
Toni’s mouth dropped open in indignation, and she slapped Julian on the head. He had so much product in his black hair that she was sure he didn’t feel the blow. “I am not showing off the goods.” She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled. “And I have absolutely no expectations in the getting laid department. I just don’t like my legs all itchy and hairy in my pajamas.”
“You didn’t seriously pack pajamas to wear while on tour with a rock band, did you?”
“What else am I supposed to sleep in?”
“Nothing. The wet spot. A puddle of your own vomit. Anything would be preferable to pajamas.”
She crinkled her nose at his suggestions. “You’re disgusting.”
He pulled around the back of the arena, where barricades were set up to keep the public from the tour buses parked near the back entrance. Which reminded her . . . Toni searched through her messenger bag for the packet the band’s manager had sent. It included a press pass that would get her past security. Pulling to a halt in a no-stopping zone, Julian shifted into park and turned toward her.
“Disgusting? You know you love me.” He blinked at her with sleepy blue eyes surrounded by thick dark lashes.
“Except when I hate you. Which is most of the time.” She reached for the door handle, but Julian caught her other arm.
“This is the part where I’m supposed to tell you to be a good girl and to carefully guard your heart, body, and soul from evil rock stars. It’s also where I should advise you to stay away from excessive alcohol, drugs, sex, and backstage after-parties.”
“But you’re not going to . . .”
“Hell no. You need to live it up. Your mother has you so isolated from the outside world, I fear you’ll never escape.”
“For your information, my mother doesn’t isolate me. I isolate myself.”
“I’m still surprised she let you take this assignment. It’s not like you’ll be living in the company of the Vienna Boys’ Choir for the next month. I’m sure my life is tame when compared to the exploits of a bunch of rock stars, and she’s always giving me that stare of disapproval.”
Toni knew that stare all too well. “You know what Mom said when I asked for the assignment? I suppose it is time you get a life,” she said, mimicking her mother’s typical bored-sounding drawl. But Toni did have a life. Being twenty-five and still living at home didn’t bother her nearly as much as it bothered everyone else.
“Your mom is right. You do need to get a life.”
Toni scowled. Why did everyone assume that because she wasn’t some wild party animal or some socialite debutante that she wasn’t happy? “I happen to love my life. Birdie means everything to me.”
Someone honked behind them. Toni opened the door, but Julian grabbed her arm again to keep her from fleeing.
“Whether you realize it or not, you need more than your little sister to make your life complete. And if you come back from this trip still a virgin, I’m going to do something about it.”
She blinked at him. “You’re going to do something about it? You? The man who fears vaginas?”
“Hey, I’d probably do a better job of it than the last idiot who failed you, but no, I’ve no plans to contaminate my junk with girl juice.”
Toni covered her eyes with one hand as if it would shield her from Julian’s crazy schemes.
“If you’re still a virgin next time I see you, I will promptly kidnap you, haul your ass to Vegas in the trunk of my car, and buy you a bona fide man-whore to remove your V-chip.”
She jerked her hand off her flaming face a gaped at him. “You wouldn’t!”
He snorted. “You know I would. And when he’s finished with you, he can do me.”
Toni shook her head at his ornery grin. “You scare me sometimes.”
“I scare me too. But I always have a good time. I refuse to let life pass me by. Now give me a smooch. I think the guy behind me is about to ram the car.” Julian presented his cheek, and Toni supplied it with a begrudged peck. “Have fun. I’ll call you in a few days to get all the juicy details.”
“I wouldn’t give you any juicy details even if I had them.” She supposed. Heck, she didn’t know. It wasn’t like she had many juicy details to share. And in those rare incidences that she did, Julian was always the instigator and the star witness.
“We’ll see. Text me as soon as you lose your virginity. So, like tonight.” He winked at her and shoved her toward the passenger door. “Now go.”
So she went with her knees knocking together like a pair of billiard balls. Even with her press pass, it took a bit of convincing to get through security. Apparently no one took one look at her and thought, Wow, this woman has her shit together. She obviously belongs here.
By some miracle, she reached her destination without being kicked to the curb.
As Toni stepped onto Exodus End’s tour bus, her stomach took residence in her calf-hugging boots. The churning sensation of guilt and worry that had plagued her from the moment she’d left Birdie in the care of her domestically-challenged mother had moved past the lurching flips of her car ride with Julian to what must have been her liver using her stomach as a trampoline as she’d worked her way through security, and now that she’d finally located her home for the next month, the overwrought organ had decided to embark on a skydiving adventure. If this kept up, she was going to need an appointment with a gastroenterologist.
Deep breath, Toni. Susan is wrong. You can do this.
She clutched the strap of her messenger bag and tried to swallow her queasiness. Could she pull this off? Could she spend the next four weeks with one of the most famous rock bands on the planet, or was it possible for a person to die from sheer intimidation? The wall of muscle and mean that suddenly appeared in her path did nothing to put her at ease.
“No fans on the bus,” the big guy said, taking her firmly by one arm and spinning her back toward the open bus door she’d just entered.
“I’m not a fan,” she blurted, which wasn’t exactly true. She enjoyed Exodus End’s music and had gained an even greater appreciation for it when she did her background research for this job. She scrambled to grab the press pass on the lanyard around her neck and thrust it in his general direction. It had gotten her through the barricades; surely it would work now. “I’m Toni Nichols. Samuel Baily said to meet up with the bus tonight and join the tour. I was told you’d be expecting me.”
She’d made it here, she was living her dream; yet the stars she reached for had never seemed so distant.
The security guard released her arm to take her press pass and scrutinize it. Toni forced herself to meet the suspicious gaze of the giant in a neon-yellow T-shirt as he assessed her press pass and then her. Her press pass again. Her once more. His brown mustache twitched, but the scowl never left his fleshy face. She wondered if fans pretended to be members of the press to get on the bus. This guy obviously wasn’t buying her story, even though she was telling the truth. She’d never have been able to muster the courage to actually lie and sneak her way onto a tour bus. Who did that?
Rock Star Romance Ultimate: Volume 1 Page 2
