by Tia Wylder
I sit back in the chair and put my feet up on the desk, propping the phone against my shoulder as I look at the window on to downtown Los Angeles. The office really does have a beautiful view, and it’s so distracting, I almost forget that I’m on the phone. Until the tiny voice on the other end starts talking again.
“Well, can YOU help me? I just need to know if Zachary received the e-mail from the producer I’ve been talking to. He’s been texting me incessantly, and I’m worried he’ll change his mind if things don’t start moving along some time soon. He’s one of the most well-respected guys in the industry, and I don’t want to blow my shot to work with him. You know?”
I lean over to look at Zachary’s computer, but it’s password protected, so I can’t get into his email. I start looking through the files on his desk and realize I don’t even know who I’m talking to. “I’m sorry, love. What is your name? The switchboard didn’t tell me, and I’ve been working here about ten minutes.”
She laughs. “Bethany Day. And yes, that Bethany Day. The one you’ve never heard of before.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Well, Bethany Day, there isn’t much I can do now, but I promise I will talk to Zachary as soon as he gets in.”
As if on cue, I hear someone clear their throat in the doorway. When I look up, I see Zachary standing there, leaning against the doorframe with an amused grin on his face. Today, he isn’t wearing a suit, but perfectly snug dark jeans, and a loose V-neck white t-shirt, so his defined chest muscles are peeking out, along with a wisp of dark, manly chest hair. My mouth is agape, and I feel like I’ve been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. I quickly take my feet off his desk, then remember to say something Bethany.
“I’ll have Zachary call you back, ASAP! More soon!” When I hang up, Zachary gives me a curious eyebrow raise.
“Who am I calling back ASAP? And I’m happy to see you’ve made yourself comfortable. Can I get you a coffee?”
“I certainly wouldn’t object,” I say without thinking, then vow to dial back the sass when he looks surprised. “It was Bethany Day. She’s been calling since sunrise apparently, and your brother was really mad that you weren’t here. They kept forwarding her to his cell phone, and he didn’t know what to do. So, he asked me to talk to her. Since you weren’t here. At 9 am. Like you said I should be.”
Damn my sass.
“I was at a few… informal… meetings about Bethany actually. And just because I said you had to be here at nine doesn’t mean I have to be. I am the boss, you know. Even though you’re dressed like a million dollars.”
I know I’m blushing, but I try to stifle it as best I can. I don’t always react well to compliments, and even less so when they come from men that look like Zachary Graham. “That’s unimportant. And I think we can move on from your arrival time. Bethany mentioned something about a producer and text messages. I don’t know. You haven’t really filled me in anything yet.”
Zachary sits in the chair across from me, seemingly enjoying the reversal in our roles. “Bethany Day is the artist I have signed on to represent. Entirely on spec, with the intention of being paid when she takes off, which she will. She’s incredible. She has this vibe… I can’t entirely explain it. But people will love her. So, I’ve been working my ass off to set up as much of a support system for her as I can. I was just meeting with a potential agent out in Malibu, hence the laid-back outfit. And the lateness.”
I lean forward, curious, wanting to know everything possible now that I’m here. Just because I’m screwing with Zachary doesn’t mean I can’t do the absolute best job possible. I don’t do anything half-assed, and I won’t start now. Even when he’s looking at me with those sparkling, hazel eyes that seem to see right through me.
“What agent?” I ask as I get a pen out of my bag.
“Leilani Morgan, with The Grantham Group. They focus on women emerging in the industry and are the best at offering across-the-board support. The producer who is interested in working with her is Professor Sam, and the fact he’s interested at all is a huge deal for all of us.”
I can’t help but be impressed. Professor Sam is a world-class producer who has worked with some of the most popular pop and hip-hop artists in the world. If he has a hand in your album, you’re pretty much guaranteed to have a number one hit. “And a manager?”
Zachary smiles. “You know your stuff, Ava. Leilani suggested someone who is freelance and an absolute maniac. Her name is Batya Gavriella, and she loves working with emerging female artists. So, now we just need to get Bethany in a studio to record a proper demo, then start introducing her around to record companies, hoping someone sees what we saw, and signs her.”
I have been jotting names down like a madwoman and trying to keep track of everything Zachary is saying. In spite of myself, I am excited to be a part of this, even if I want to punch Zach in the face. In his stupid, beautiful face. “You should probably call Bethany back. She seemed really nervous and excited, and I think she’s been waiting for you to get back to her for a while.”
Zachary looks at his watch, then his phone. “Actually, since you’ve already spoken to her and established a rapport, why don’t you give her a callback? I have a meeting about something else, and could use the backup.”
I feel panic set in at overseeing anything. Just because I got cocky sitting in his office doesn’t mean I suddenly want to oversee anything.
“I’ve been here for an hour. I’m an intern, not an associate. I don’t think it’s a great idea for you to leave me in control of this huge new client.”
Zachary stands up from his chair, his huge muscles bulging under his shirt and the sexy crinkles around his eyes amplifying as he smiles at me. “I trust you. You’re obviously brilliant. You’re confident, or you wouldn’t have plopped yourself down at my desk like you own the damn place. And let’s be honest, looking like you do, you could sell water to a drowning man. I don’t think I have anything to worry about. Plus, I’ll be back in an hour, and I think I’ll have something exciting to tell you. Lunch at The Grotto?”
I’m simultaneously embarrassed by another compliment and flabbergasted. The Grotto is one of the most exclusive restaurants in Los Angeles, and there is no way I could ever afford to eat there, even if I wiped out my checking account and only ate a salad. “The Grotto? Are you sure?”
He looks at me like I’m crazy. “Why wouldn’t I be sure? The firm has a standing table there. Can you meet me there at one?”
I nod enthusiastically. While I don’t relish sharing a meal with Zachary Graham, there is no way I am going to say no to one of the steaks at The Grotto. “I’ll be there.”
Zachary winks and disappears out the door, and I’m left to call Bethany, praying I don’t screw anything up, given the gravity of the tasks I’ve just been assigned…
* * *
It’s 1:15 pm, and I’m sitting alone at the Harper, Graham, and Graham table at The Grotto, and looking increasingly like I’ve been stood up. Waiters and waitresses that pass me are beginning to give me pitiful looks, and one offers me a free glass of white wine like I need something to cry in. I give him a polite smile and tell him I’m fine, before going back to playing a game on my phone where I get to make tiny gems explode with a hammer. I’ve already decided if Zachary doesn’t show up, I’m going to order the most expensive meal on the menu and charge it to the firm, so it’s no skin off my nose either way.
I’m just about to beat my high score when the restaurant’s manager walks up to me, looking apologetic.
“Miss, I’m sorry for your wait. Mister Graham is often late. I find whatever time he tells you to arrive somewhere, it is perhaps best to get there twenty minutes later. Minimum. May I get you an appetizer in the meantime?” he says with a gracious smile.
Who am I to say no to some calamari?
Within five minutes, a huge plate of perfectly breaded calamari is in front of me, and I am digging into it as I’ve never eaten before in my life. Just when I am sho
ving another piece of delicious calamari smothering in marinara sauce into my mouth, I then notice Zachary standing over me. His trademarked amused grin is starting to get old.
“Do I need to get you an advance on your paycheck? When was the last time you ate?”
I wipe some sauce from the corner of my mouth and take a slug of water to dry and wash down my embarrassment. “I didn’t have time to eat breakfast. And you were late.”
He sits down across from me and waves at the waiter to get his attention. “Traffic. Are you only drinking water?”
I shrug as the waiter hurries up to the table. Zachary gives him a warm smile. “Can you bring us a bottle of the Chateau Lianne, ’89? Chilled, please.”
I don’t know much, but I know wine from 1989 can’t possibly be cheap. I would argue, telling him anything of such expense would be lost on me, but I’m not exactly here to be doing him any favors. Him or his sexy cheekbones, or those washboard abs I can just see through his t-shirt…
Stop that, Ava. Jesus. Get in the game. You are not here to ogle. Focus, give him your biggest smile. Make him think you’re interested. Then break his heart. Game plan.
I realize Zachary is watching me, so I snap myself back to reality. “How did the meeting go? Was it about Bethany?”
He nods. “In fact, it was. I’ve been mulling over some ideas for her ‘coming out party,’ so to speak. And I was running over options with our accountants, and my travel agent.”
The waiter brings the wine and pours two perfectly equal glasses. I take a long sip, and the heady floral flavor goes straight to my head immediately. It’s delicious and unlike anything I’ve ever tasted in my life. And it almost distracts me from something that Zachary said.
“Did you say travel agent? Why in the world would you need a travel agent for any party?”
Zachary reaches into his satchel and pulls out a pair of giant old man glasses that somehow just make him look sexier. Then he reaches back into his bag and grabs a stack of papers, then slides a stack of brochures across the table. They are for luxury resorts in places like Fiji, Antigua, Cabo, Turks & Caicos, and South Padre Island. I look through them, and each one is more gorgeous and posh than the last. I don’t fully understand what he’s planning.
“Well, when we plan these parties for our clients, we like to go all out, within some semblance of the reason of course. Obviously, this is all on our dime with the intention that we will get a return on our investment in the long. But I want to do everything we can afford to do for Bethany. I think she is an extraordinary talent, and this will be a great way to really get people to pay attention to her in a captive setting.”
I scan the brochures again and am a little overwhelmed at what I’m seeing. Each resort has beautiful private villas, five-star dining, private beaches… Sending one person to any of these locations would cost thousands of dollars. But packing up a ton of industry insiders and bringing them all to an island, then paying to put them all up for a weekend? I drink down the rest of my wine in one slug.
“Zachary, I know I’m just a lowly intern, but I am having trouble understanding how you can pull this off and not spend far more money than it’s worth. Couldn’t you just do something in Malibu and save a ton of cash?”
Zachary pours me another glass of wine, and watch as the muscles of his bicep flex when he reaches across the table. Why is he so sexy? Why is this wine making me so stupid?
“That’s an excellent question, Ava, and one with two answers,” Zachary says as he refills his own wine glass and gestures for a second bottle. How much is this costing him? “It’s not as cost prohibitive as you might think. Whichever resort we decide on, I will talk with them about setting up some sort of promotions deal. For a small investment on their part up front, I will promise them that one of my bigger clients will vacation at their resort and we’ll have some pictures leaked to the paparazzi. That’s free promotion for them, and their business will increase tenfold. It’s a win-win.”
The waiter returns to take our orders, and Zachary orders two of ‘the usual.’ Normally, I’d be annoyed that someone had ordered for me, but I suspect that he knows all of the best food here, and may even have access to food that isn’t on the menu. Once the waiter leaves, I fill in the unspoken follow-up.
“And what is the second answer?”
Zachary grins. “I won’t pull it off. You are.”
I drop the piece of bread in my hand and then try to recover, but fail. “What are you talking about? I’m a law student, not a party planner.”
“You’re still going to help me with the business things which need to be done. But I also want you to spearhead this project. Based on your history, I’m confident you can multitask, and I can already tell you’re smarter and more trustworthy than anyone else I have working in my office. I think you’ll make the right decisions, and I think Bethany will trust you. Those are the two most important things to me right now. I’d like to be honest with you if that is something that is okay?”
I lean forward, intrigued. Are we already progressing to this phase? So quickly? “Of course, Zachary. I’d like to think you can trust me with anything, including your honesty.”
He nods. “My brother, and my partner Shawn? They are more ‘bottom-line’ guys. They have never believed in my concept for a full-service law firm that focuses on a client’s career from top to bottom. I think this is our chance to prove to them that being lawyers is about more than signing contracts and making money. I’ve been focusing my client base on women, and people from underrepresented minority groups, trying to get them the attention that they don’t often get from record companies. If we can cultivate their careers, and help them get that focused attention, I think we could make a real difference in changing the face of the music industry.”
There is no way that I can control the look of absolute shock on my face. In my wildest dreams, I never would have expected that Zachary’s firm was to offer support to people from groups struggling for attention in the very shallow music industry. “I didn’t know that you…”
Zachary shrugs. “I don’t make a big deal about the things I do. Shawn is the one who issues a press release every time he drops a quarter in a charity jar. I don’t want people paying attention to me. I’d rather them focus on the cause.”
Who IS this man?
“Okay, so what do you want me to do?” I ask, suddenly more interested in helping Bethany than I thought was initially possible.
“I want you to research these places. The travel agent thinks they’ll be the most receptive to a deal because they’re fairly new and looking for some promotion. Then you’ll need to organize everything, contacting record company’s and finding the people who would be a best potential fit for Bethany. And the last step is to book everything! Do you think you can handle that while doing some light casework?”
I’m just about to answer when two waiters walk up carrying our lunch. Each plate contains a perfectly cooked piece of filet mignon, with sides of hand-cut French Fries tossed in parmesan and garlic, asparagus fritti, and wild mushrooms. Zachary keeps talking, about Bethany, about his work, about his other clients, but all I can do is eat, relishing each bite of the delicious food. I have never, in my life, tasted anything so delicious, and I’m confident I couldn’t even focus on an elephant performing an interpretive dance in the middle of the restaurant. Suddenly, my plate is completely empty, and I realize Zachary is staring at me again.
“Seriously, I feel compelled to ask. Do you not have access to food? Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing I love more in this world than a woman with a healthy appetite. But you’re starting to worry me,” he says as he pushes away his half-eaten steak. I would be lying if I said I didn’t consider asking him if I could finish it, but I don’t want to compound his concern.
“I have food. But I also love food. And when you put amazing food in front of me, I’ll eat. I’m not the woman who will suck on ice cubes and eat a piece of kale just so a man doesn’t think
she eats,” I say as I use a piece of bread to sop up the liquid from the wine-infused mushrooms. Zachary just grins at me.
“Well, that is good to know. Because I hate eating alone, and I loathe kale. I’ll start bringing you with me as my companion to business dinners, instead of the usual models my brother insists on setting me up with.”
My heart aches when he says that because I think of my sister. She was stunning and could have easily been a model. I had a feeling that she was lending herself out, doing “girlfriend experience” thing for rich men, but she would never confirm it. Could that have been how she met Zachary? And if it was, were they really dating at all? I also can’t help but wonder if something was missing from her story about Zachary because the man I am seeing in front of me right now… he just doesn’t seem like the man who would intentionally hurt anyone. I feel utterly conflicted, and like I don’t know what is happening anymore. What did Josie leave out of this story?
Zachary waves a hand at the waiter, who rushes back over.
“Mike, can you get another filet plate wrapped up for Miss Webber to go? She enjoyed your food so much, I think she should get to enjoy it again later.”
