by Claire Adams
Not expecting that kind of response, I frowned. My demeanor was suddenly angry and defensive. “I’m a grown-ass woman, Jack. I can do what I want. And if I do my job well enough, maybe Owen will help me get my own music out there. It’s not just like he’s only the lead singer, you know? He does also own a thriving record company. I think he could really help me.”
“Yeah, into his bed, maybe,” Jackson added, rolling his eyes.
I glared at him in silence, my anger simmering.
“What? It’s true!” he defended his statement. “The guy’s a dick, and he isn’t going to do anything that doesn’t fit his needs first and foremost.”
“Oh, so you personally know him, do you? Because he didn’t seem like a dick at all when I met him today. Besides, you make it sound like I’m some groupie fan who would just jump into bed because he smiled at me. I see how much faith you have in me,” I spewed before taking a bite of my burger.
I was a little bummed by Jackson’s reaction, but my involvement wasn’t up for discussion. If I got offered the job, I would take it and that would be that. With that in mind, I changed the subject and did my best to cool off a little. “How are things going with Cindi?”
Jackson cringed a bit, taking a bite from his burger. He simply chewed on his food in silence, not bothering to respond.
“That well, huh? I asked.
“We broke up...again,” he shrugged. He and Cindi had been on again off again for the last year.
“I’m sorry.”
“I think it’s for good this time. She wanted to move in and I didn’t think it was a good idea since we are always breaking up. I mean, you just reach a point where you have to say, 'enough is enough.' It couldn't just carry on like that forever.”
I reached over to squeeze his hand, and he smiled at me.
“I’m fine, Nay, really. I really don’t know why I keep going back to her, anyway.”
“It’s called being lonely,” I told him.
He laughed. “Maybe that’s it. And, I know her, and I’m comfortable around her.”
“Exactly,” I nodded and took another bite of my burger, as well as a gulp of soda.
“Maybe I’ll find the right one, eventually,” he shrugged again. “I don’t know, there's gotta be a girl who's perfect for me out there somewhere, right? There has to be. I'm just holding out until I finally meet her.”
We ate in companionable silence for a little while until both of us were finished. Then we headed back to my brother’s car. I felt a little bad that I’d brought up Cindi, but I was glad he wasn’t still going on about what a dick Owen Young supposedly was.
I hadn’t gotten any negative vibes from Owen personally, and I considered myself to be a fairly good judge of character. I loved my big brother and valued his opinion, but I didn’t agree with him on this. I was going to wait and make my own judgments.
Instead of me walking home, Jackson drove me to my place, chatting about other random stuff like what Grace was up to and what he was currently working on. He didn’t bring up Owen again, and I was glad that he didn't.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Owen
“
Owen , you feeling okay?” Talon asked just after we finished up a song.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said a bit defensively. “Why are you asking? Does it seem as if something’s wrong with me?” The moment the words left my mouth, I realized why he might have asked.
“You just seemed a little off on the last song. You sure everything’s all right?”
I knew he was right, but I didn’t feel like getting into it. “I’m fine, man, seriously. Why don’t we just do that song again?” I suggested. Talon nodded, but then my phone went off.
“Owen Young,” I answered.
“Mr. Young, this is Sally from Touring Unlimited. I was calling to confirm the dates you requested for the tour bus. We have you down for the first week in September.”
I let out a sigh. I had called them over a month before and set it up, and I knew I’d told them the beginning of August. I’d even double checked it. “No, that’s incorrect. We need it the beginning of August. First week of August. I'm pretty sure I specified that quite a while ago.”
“Oh…I’m sorry about that, Mr. Young. Let me see if we can change the reservation.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose as she put me on hold. The other guys watched me curiously. No one made a sound. The silence grew more and more uncomfortable with every passing moment. It took Sally over two minutes to return to the line.
“Mr. Young? If it’s okay, I’m going to call you back once we get this straightened out,” she assured me. “I'll do my best to sort this out.”
“Fine,” I sighed, shook my head, and then hung up and watched Jeremiah place his guitar on its stand.
“How’s the search for an assistant going?” he asked, clearly aware of the frustration I was currently experiencing. “You any closer to finding someone who’s gonna fit the bill?”
“Actually, man, I met a really good candidate yesterday. Her name’s Nalia. She’s supposed to be stopping by today to meet you guys, to get a feel for the band and how we operate. So, instead of asking me about her, you’ll get to meet her for yourselves and then you guys can ask her whatever questions you might have.”
I looked down at my watch. It was only fifteen minutes later than the time I’d told my secretary to give her. It was no big deal. I figured she should be arriving any minute.
“Did you still want to run back through that first song?” Talon asked. I nodded and we started over.
I tried to get my head in the right place, but couldn’t help wondering why Nalia hadn’t shown up yet. We made it through the song, but I knew I was still a little off. It was really hard to focus; I still felt like my mind was in a million different places at once. Still, we pressed on, running through a few more songs. We had to; we had to be super tight for this tour.
“Okay, I’m going to call the agency to see where she is,” I finally said as we finished another song. It was nearly 2:45. I called Mike, tapping my foot impatiently on the floor as I waited for him to answer the call. “Hey, Mike, have you heard from Miss Dean? She hasn’t shown up yet,” I asked when he finally picked up after what seemed like forever. He put me on hold to check with his secretary.
“No word from her. Which seems odd compared to how on top of things she’s been so far. We’ll try to reach out to her and see what’s going on,” he said. “Just hang tight and I'll get back to you as soon as I know what's going on.” I sighed and thanked him before hanging up.
I stared out at the studio window, trying to swallow my disappointment. I didn’t get it; she’d seemed so interested in coming by today, and I'd had such high hopes for her. It was fine, I tried to tell myself. It would simply mean going back to the drawing board again, unfortunately. I wasn’t looking forward to having to do more interviews, though. In fact, I was loathing the thought.
The others were watching me as I stood there, so I tried to shake it off. Regardless, we needed to practice, whether Nalia showed up or not.
“All right, let’s finish practice guys,” I said, doing my best to round them back up. “We've only got a few more songs to get through, then we're done for the day and can all just chill.” Everything else seemed to be going wrong. I wanted to finish practice at the very least, just so that something felt like it was moving in the right direction.
Talon counted us in for the next song and the others joined before I hit the vocals. I tried to push away all the worries and stressors in my head and simply focus on the music instead. That helped some. Music always helped me relax and take my mind off things that were bugging me, and that song went a lot smoother than the first few. I loosened up a little, got into it like I remembered doing back when I first started the band, eventually putting every ounce of my heart and soul into it — truly singing my heart out.
It helped that the song was about loneliness, something I knew plenty about. I te
nded to write about what was relevant to me and, unfortunately, being lonely had been a major theme in my life. Singing about it was a way to get all the pain and angst out.
We finished up the song and went right into the next one. I was feeling a bit better, we were sounding better together, and I was finally focused fully on the music. By the time we hit the last song, we were jamming smoothly and rocking hard.
For the first time all day, we were right in our element. It was amazing; this was how things had been when we had first started out. A sensation I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to experience again, but there I was, feeling it once more.
“That sounded amazing! I cannot wait to go on tour, man!” Jeremiah smiled. “Wow, I mean, it's been really great jamming again and getting back into the music, but now... Now I feel like we're really in the pocket, you know? We're totally hitting it again the way we used to. Man, this feels epic!”
The others were equally as pumped, Jay and Talon high-fiving over his drum set.
“We totally owned it!” Talon exclaimed with a look of pure joy beaming from his face. I could see how pumped he was and how important this was to him. That, at least, made me feel better. And to tell the truth, I was really pumped about it, as well. It really felt as if all the pieces were falling into place — musically, at least.
But that left the business side of things a little unstable. My mind kept wandering back to thoughts of Nalia. I looked down at my watch and saw that it was now quarter past three. The guys were starting to pack up. Nalia must have decided against coming. I couldn’t think of any other logical explanation for her being so late and not at least calling to let me know.
Fuck it, I thought. It looked as though I would just have to find someone else. It was a huge bummer. I really felt like I had lucked out finding her. She seemed so perfect for what I needed. What the band needed, I reminded myself.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Nalia
I couldn’t believe it. I had finally lucked out and had a second interview for a job I really wanted and, of course, I get stuck in traffic. That’s just how my luck works. I should have known that things couldn’t just keep going my way – there always had to be a snag.
I’d tried calling the agency multiple times to let them know so they could at least tell Owen why I was late, but the line kept ringing busy. What kind of company doesn’t have multiple lines?
My frustration was rising with every minute and every inch traffic crawled. I tried them again and again, and I was near tears when the busy signal blared in my ear once more. All I could think was that this was going to end in disaster, and that I'd gotten my hopes up all for nothing. Would I really have to come so close to this opportunity just to have it snatched from right under my nose? Would I have to go crawling back to Allison for a job at the dive bar, penniless and with my tail between my legs?
Hell no. I’d starve first.
I texted Grace, whom I had told about the interview the night before, and she called me a few minutes later.
“Okay, calm down, Nay. Just get there and explain about the pile up and the traffic. It’s all over the news, so it isn’t like they can’t verify you’re telling the truth.”
“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.
