The Wild Interview

by K. A Knight

  “Well done sweetie, we’re so proud of you! Come, tell us everything!” my mum gushes, almost bouncing up and down on the sofa. I see my dad roll his eyes out of the corner of mine.

  “Let the girl have a minute. She just got in. I’m sure once she’s relaxed for a moment she will tell you every little detail.” He doesn't even look away from the TV, but I see him grin when my mum sticks her tongue out at him.

  He’s right though, usually I share every minute of my day with my mum. She’s my best friend, my closest confidant, so it only adds to the guilt building in me because I know I can’t tell her this.

  “Pfft, okay, well why don’t you go take a shower and get in your jammies, and I’ll grab the wine,” she says, already standing from the sofa and making her way through the door connected to the kitchen. I nod and blow out a relieved breath that I’ll get a moment to think through what I’m going to tell her.

  I make my way upstairs, freezing for a minute when I spot my brother’s door standing slightly ajar. Looking around with a frown, I step closer and peer inside. Everything is the exact same as the day he died, the TV is dusty and his bed is unmade. Shaking my head, I close the door softly and push my bedroom door open. Kicking it shut behind me I strip off and grab my pajamas before heading to my ensuite.

  I take my time in the shower, letting the water hit my tired muscles, and by the time I get out and dry off, I have a plan. Let’s hope it works.

  I grab my phone and on slippered feet and make my way to the kitchen, where my mum is flicking through a magazine, an opened bottle of white wine in front of her, and two glasses half filled waiting on the table. Smiling, I shuffle over and drop myself in the chair opposite her, kicking out the next chair and propping up my feet. I grab the glass and take a sip, enjoying the taste as the fruity flavour explodes in my mouth.

  “Tell me everything,” she says leaning forward, making me laugh.

  Fiddling with my wine glass I weave my tale, sticking to the basic facts so it's close to the truth. Either way she nods and hums in the right places, and by the time I have finished, we’ve polished off the bottle of wine.

  The next couple of days were anything but smooth, still, at least it’s a start. The guys showed up on time the morning after our agreement, and the first thing I had them do was clear out the studio space. I had explored the building after everyone left the day prior, and found an old dance studio being used as a storage area. The boys had only been rehearsing on stage, but this room was better equipped for them to practise in. It was a proper dance studio, with a ballet bar and mirrors lining the length of the room, there was even an old sound system.

  They had grumbled, but once I had explained my reasons and given Blake a pointed look, he gave the order and they got on with it. While they were sorting that out, I took it upon myself to try and organise my office—if it could really be called that. I had gotten on with it, and I was starting to make progress when Blake interrupted, wanting to show me how they had transformed the dance studio. Transformed was the right word, it looked great in there, and even the guys were looking around with wide eyes. It was like they hadn’t even realised this space was here.

  The new choreographer arrived just as they guys had started to warm up. To my relief, they seemed to get on immediately and started talking through ideas for the show. I had been worried that their egos would get in the way, since previously they had done all of their own choreography, but thankfully they put that aside with only a glare from Blake. I had left them to it and went back to work in my office, trying to sort the accounts and documents that had been left haphazardly—a task that consumed my time the next few days.

  It’s now the end of my first week on the job and I’m just about making a dent in the paperwork. No wonder the show was suffering, it doesn’t look like anyone was managing this side of the business. What had the last couple of managers been doing? I look across my desk, which was looking much more organised now, pleased with my progress. I wouldn’t say I’m a control freak, I just like to know exactly what I’m doing and when I did it. My fresh stationary is laid out before me and my clipboard with a to-do list beckons me, compelling me to be productive. I sit down to gleefully start writing notes on what I want to change, when a ringing grabs my attention. I glare at the phone, which is interrupting my planning, and pick it up with a frown.

  “Hello, Gabriella speaking.” My voice is professional, not allowing the slightest indication of my annoyance be heard.

  “Hello Gabriella, it’s Mr. Jones. I’m just calling to see how you’re getting on,” Mr. Jones’ condescending tone greets me, instantly making me sit up straight and brush imaginary lint off my silk blouse as if he can see me. I roll my eyes at myself and lean back in my chair.

  “Oh, hello Mr. Jones. There were a few bumps to start with, but I have looked through the accounts and spoken with the guys, and I have a plan in place. I know what I need to do,” I assure him. I don’t want to go into details as I have the distinct impression he doesn’t expect me to succeed here, which just makes me more determined.

  “Very good. Keep up the good work Gabriella, we are keeping a close eye on you.” I narrow my eyes at his words, and I’m about to reply when I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I turn and see Blake leaning up against the doorframe of my office, his arms crossed as he listens in on my conversation. I’m actually glad to see him for once.

  “Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Jones, Blake needs me for something, I’ll have to let you go. Okay, sorry, thanks, bye now,” I say quickly and hang up as his sputters on the other end of the phone gets cut off. I smile smugly at the phone. “Condescending bastard,” I mutter under my breath.

  “I hope you’re not talking about me.” Blake’s amused voice reminds me that he’s here, and I turn with what I hope is a professional smile on my face.

  “Of course not, how can I help?” Blake eyes me up and down silently for a moment, before gesturing for me to follow him as he walks away. I raise my eyebrow at the now empty doorway and turn my attention back to my clipboard. It takes Blake a few seconds to realise I’m not following him before he returns to my office with a scowl on his face.

  “Why didn’t you follow me?” he asks as I put my pen down with a sigh, and tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, I turn to look at him.

  “I’m not one of your women who fawn after you, I’m a human being who deserves respect.” He just stares at me, and then shakes his head like I’ve lost my mind. Too late mate, that ship sailed long ago.

  “Are you coming or what?” he grouses.

  “Ask me nicely and I will.” My sweet smile has his mouth dropping open in shock, he wasn’t expecting that reaction.

  “What?” he questions, his voice incredulous, like he can’t believe I’m talking to him like this. To be fair, he’s probably never been spoken to this way before. This guy has a lot to learn if he’s going to work with me.

  “If you ask me nicely, then I’ll follow you. I’m not some trained monkey that jumps to cater your every whim.” He snorts at my comment and shakes his head, and I’m pretty sure I hear him mutter something under his breath that sounds a lot like ‘crazy woman.’

  “Fine, Gabriella, will you follow me please?” His tone is sickly sweet and I know he’s mocking me, but I just smile at him and pick up my clipboard.

  “Of course I will, lead the way.”

  I follow behind Blake in silence as he leads me to the studio space and points me to a chair against the wall.

  “Sit,” he demands and I raise my eyebrow at him. “Please,” he corrects and gives me a mock questioning look. I give him a regal nod and take my seat, struggling to hide my grin at his disparaging look.

  “Hey, Angel, you ready to see what we’ve been working on?” Liam asks with a wink as he stretches in the corner. I try to ignore the fact he’s shirtless and the way his muscles move as he stretches.

  “So that’s why I’m here then? Blake wasn’t exactly forthcoming when he ordered me t
o follow him,” I comment dryly, watching with interest as the guys move into starting positions. Liam and Emmett give Blake a look, while Kingston slaps him upside the head.

  “Hey!” Blake complains, but he doesn’t seem too upset, as if he expected it.

  “We don’t treat women that way!” Kingston justifies, and gestures towards me. “She’s here to help us, be polite!” he orders, before going back to his starting position, nodding at me as he does so.

  Once they are all in position, Blake nods towards one of the crew who I hadn’t noticed was sitting to the side by the sound system. Music starts playing and the guys begin moving as one. I can tell straight away they have been working hard on this. The new choreography is on point and their moves are slick and sharp. The combination of the music and their moves is hypnotic and I lose track of time, fully absorbed in their routine. The music ends and I blink at the sudden silence, clapping when I see their expectant faces. I quickly start writing on my clipboard before I forget.

  “Is she writing notes?” I hear one of the guys whispering.

  “Whatcha writing?” Emmett slinks up to me and tries to peak over my shoulder to see what I’m furiously jotting down. I try to turn it away so he can’t see it, but Liam is on my other side reading what I’ve written.

  “Hot is underlined three times, so I’m going to assume you liked it then?” Liam says with a grin, which the other guys in the room mirror. All except Blake that is.

  “Good enough for you sweetheart?” he drawls, as if he’s expecting me to say they are shit.

  “Yeah, it was so much better. I can tell you have put a lot of work in. We just need to make the rest of the show this good.” The other guys make a whoop noise as they clap each other on the back.

  My phone rings, bringing me out of the conversation I was having with a roadie. Clearing my throat, I pull it from my pocket and make my way around the corner where I lean against the wall. When I see who’s ringing, I groan, knowing nothing good can come from this. Clearing my throat, I answer.

  “Hello, Mum.”

  I cringe when I hear my dad talking in the background, the only reason they would ring me when I’m at work is for something I’m really not going to want to do.

  “Oh hi sweetie, I just wanted to let you know we have booked that fancy restaurant downtown you like, Lesorlas? For four people tonight at seven PM. I know it's short notice, but I figured you could bring a date and we could celebrate.” Her voice is filled with excitement and I don't have it in me to say no, even my dad sounds excited, asking my mum what shirt he should wear. Plus, I can’t remember the last time we went out and they paid this much attention to my life, if I snuff them this time, they won't make the effort again.

  “That sounds amazing mum, I love that place but you know me and Dan broke up, so I don’t think I’ll get a date in,” glancing at my watch I groan, “three hours.”

  I hear her huff and disregard me altogether. “Of course you will, plus we can’t get the table without all four being present, and it was hard enough to get in to begin with.”

  My dad comes closer, his voice raising as he asks, “What's the problem? Are we going because if we aren't why the fuck am I dressing up?”

  Blowing out a breath I lean my head back against the wall. “No, it’s okay. I get it. Okay, seven PM at Lesorlas, I’ll find someone to come with me,” I mumble the last.

  “Great, it’s black tie dress,” Mum carries on.

  “Yep, I know Mum. I’ll pick a dress up on my way past home.”

  “Okay, great! I’m so excited, proud of you sweetie.” She blows me a kiss and hangs up and I bang my head against the wall.

  “Oh yeah, I’ll just call up my ex and all the other men I’ve fucked over and see if they want to come for a three-course meal with my parents,” I mock before banging my head again.

  My mood sours, but determined to get as much from today's training as possible, I push from the wall and straighten my outfit. Cracking my lips into a smile, I roll my shoulders and turn back around and carry on.

  Shit, shit, shit, shit. I am going to be so late. Rehearsal ended on time, but I got caught in a conference call, and it’s now five minutes before seven and I’m rushing around my room. I yank on the first dress I find, and shake out my hair until the bob is wavy and looks good enough for tonight. Grabbing my purse and heels, I run out to the cab which has honked three times. Jumping in I tell him the address. Once we start moving, I wiggle into my stiletto boots. The front of the boots are black and sparkle all over, and the heels are at least six inches, but they go with my black velvet dress nicely. With a split up one thigh, the fabric cascading down the other, this high-necked backless number is my go-to posh dress. It makes my skin glow and my curves look amazing.

  Grabbing my makeup and compact from my purse, I line my eyes quickly, groaning when we hit a bump and it smudges. Fuckity-Mcfuck, I look like a panda. Fuck it. Going with it I smudge the other and blend it out until it looks like a smoky eye. Grabbing my trusty dark red lipstick, I apply that and straighten my dress. Done, looking at my watch I smile. One minute to spare. Let’s hope there isn't traffic.

  We get to the restaurant at five minutes late, ugh my dad is going to flip. Throwing my money with a guilty smile at the cabbie, I slip out and straighten my dress once more, facing the posh restaurant. Don’t get me wrong, I love clubbing and dive bars like any other small town girl, but I love this restaurant. It’s the first place my dad brought me to when we finally bonded. It’s the place my brother and I used to come to for birthdays. We haven't been back since his death, so it's bittersweet, but I know once I smell the lavender candles and the aroma of the fresh Italian food, I won't be able to stop smiling.

  I’m not looking forward to explaining being dateless though. I shot a few texts off between rehearsals, but no one replied. Sucking in some fresh air I slide my professional mask in place, hoping I survive this encounter. Striding up to the door like I own the joint, I smile sweetly at the young door boy. He turns bright red and fumbles before yanking the gaudy gold wooden thing open. Stepping inside, the smell of food hits me as well as the laughter of other guests. It feels like home.

  Sweeping my gaze around the room I can't help but smile. It might be over-the-top and a little crazy, but I love it all the same.

  Vines of flowers cover the exposed beams, hanging low from the ceiling. The wooden mismatched tables are very chic and run around the restaurant with matching wooden chairs. Candles and lanterns adorn the tables. It’s very boho, but it's amazing. The floor is a soft cream carpet and the walls a deep grey. It shouldn't work, but it does.

  The host clears his throat and I turn his way with a guilty smile. He smiles back, checking me out from head to toe. It shoots a little confidence in me, something I’ll need to face the firing line no doubt waiting for me.

  “Table for one ma’am?” he enquires, sounding hopeful.

  “I have a reservation, two of the party should be here. Moreno.” He looks at his list and his smile fades a bit.

  “Of course, miss. Will your partner be joining you shortly?” he asks, no doubt seeing the four reserved chairs. This place is super hard to get into. I hesitate, embarrassment heating my cheeks when a strong, warm arm suddenly wraps around my waist, feeling vaguely familiar.

  “Sorry I’m late, I had to pick up something,” a deep voice rumbles from beside me, one I would know anywhere.

  I glance at Damon wide-eyed and confused. He winks and turns back to the scowling host. “You can take us to the table now,” Damon says, dismissing him as his eyes turn back to me, taking me in from head to toe, his eyes heating with approval. I have to stop myself from fidgeting.

  “What are you doing here?” I hiss and smile at the server as he gestures for us to follow him. My smile is so fake it might crack, but I stroll after him, winding between tables, clutching Damon’s arm.

  “I heard you on the phone earlier, figured if we’re supposed to trust each other and all that shit,
the least I could do is help. Especially with you helping us.” He looks around and smiles at the place.

  “You came here out of pity,” I say with a sneer, of course he did. I want to crawl into a hole and die.

  His face swivels to me incredulously. “What? You think I came on a date with a stunning woman to a fancy restaurant out of pity?” I eye him, it does sound stupid when you put it like that, but…

  Turning and ignoring the server, I put my hand on his chest and gulp when I finally realize what he’s wearing. Hell, even his hair is slicked back. His tight white shirt is tucked into smart black trousers that look molded to his thighs. The top button of the shirt is undone, he even makes a suit look sexier if that’s possible. His hand covers mine and holds me there.

  “Look, it’s not a big deal. You needed a date and I wanted to come. Don’t overthink it, you can thank me later.” He winks and I hear my mum calling me. I have two options, run the hell away or go along with this. I narrow my eyes at him.

  “Whatever you hear stays between us, and don’t bloody tell them who you are.”

  His eyebrow raises, and I slip my hand away before turning with a strained smile to see my mum and dad near a table down the aisle. I make my way over and hug them awkwardly, Damon’s presence burning a hole in my back.

  I slide into a free seat and Damon slips into the one next to me. My mum eyes him before winking at me, even as my dad glares at him. This should be fun.

  I manage to order a drink and sip the water placed in front of me before my mum starts in on the questions.

  “So, are you dating my daughter?” I almost spit my sip of water, but Damon just smiles and leans back into his chair, looking calm.