by Claire Adams
The others snorted into their drinks. Talon’s grin only widened. “No. I was thinking so you can show her yours. I think you seriously need to get laid, bro. It might go a long way toward helping you lighten up a little.”
I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “How about nobody shows her their dick, guys? How about that?”
They all laughed, but my expression didn’t change. “I’m serious. No fucking around with the assistant. Any of us. Deal? Let’s do things right and not fuck this up. The last thing I need is for our assistant to quit halfway through the tour because she was harassed to a point of no return or she got burned by one of you idiots. We can't afford to have that happen, we really can't.
“We're gonna be on a crazy schedule, and any fuck ups could make the entire thing crash and burn. And you all know this as well as I do. So can we please agree to just leave the assistant alone and let her get on with her job?”
“Deal,” Jeremiah piped in immediately.
“Deal,” Jay said. The look on my face convinced him that I was serious, and he knew from years of experience when to quit messing around and when to back down.
Talon, on the other hand, hesitated. After a moment, which I am certain he waited for just for dramatic effect, he agreed. “All right then. It's a deal. I promise I won't show her my anaconda—even though she's the one who's gonna be missing out.”
All three of them agreed to the no sex with the tour assistant pact, and I felt somewhat relieved. My brother could be quite the horn dog, but if he made a promise, he did always keep it. We finished off brunch, chatting a little more about the tour, as well as adding a few more things to our to-do list. The other guys left, and I drove Talon and me back to my place.
“I’m really excited about this tour,” he said as he stared out the window.
“I know, man. I told you we’d do this if you got clean last year,” I smiled. “I’m pretty excited about it, too. I can hardly believe we’re actually doing it. I've got such a great feeling about this. Just feels right. Ya know? Just like the old days, before we hit it big. It's almost like going back in time, in a way.”
Talon smiled, pulling out a cigarette and rolling down the window. “I just really needed this. The band back together, us all hanging out again. Thanks, Owen. I really mean that.”
“Love you, man.” I patted his shoulder.
I did love my baby brother. We’d always been close and, to a certain degree, I knew he still looked up to me. He always had, especially when we were kids. When I started a band, he wanted in. He’d slaved over the drums, learning how to play just so he could be a part of it, and in the process, had turned into an amazing drummer.
And last year when he overdosed, it had really scared the hell out of me. The thought of losing him had almost killed me. I couldn't imagine a life without my kid brother in it, and that had come so close to being a reality.
That was the point at which I begged him to get into treatment and get clean, and I realized he was missing things in his life and hurting to the degree of trying to fill those voids with drugs. Without the music, he'd simply found another outlet for his pain. So that was another factor in my decision to get the band back together.
Of course, I was happy about getting back together with the other guys in the band, but I really brought the band back together for Talon because when he had a sense of purpose and direction like that, he didn't need to get high out of his skull on drugs or spend time with the wrong crowd.
Talon went straight for my living room couch the moment we got to my house, whipping his sunglasses off and diving into the pillows.
“Ya know, those late nights and fast women are going to get the better of you one of these days,” I jabbed.
“God, I hope so,” he chimed back, his voice muffled through the pillows.
I laughed at him and headed up the stairs to my office. My intention was to check out some of the applicants Mike had sent information on because I really needed to lock down someone as soon as possible so that I could stop worrying about the admin side of the tour and focus on the music and rehearsing with the band. I shut the door behind me and opened up my laptop, looking for the email he said he’d sent so that we could set up interviews for the following day.
It didn’t take long to find it, and within a few minutes, I was reading over the first applicant’s qualifications. The girl looked nice enough, and her resume was decently impressive—she could definitely be a possibility. I went through two others who were not as impressive, but not bad. The fourth one was cute and had a resume like the first girl, so I earmarked her for an interview, as well.
I got to the last one, though, and was blown away. Her resume was not only good, but the picture attached was fucking hot. Hot enough that I looked up her name on Google and managed to find more pictures of her. One, in particular, stood out. She was standing on the beach in a bikini, holding a surfboard.
I actually mumbled an “Oh, my God,” while staring at it. She was tanned and curvy with hips for days and full breasts. She had long, brown hair and honey-colored eyes that I could get lost in, even through a computer screen. She was totally my type. “Nalia,” I said to myself, re-reading her name. I liked that. Oh yes, I’d definitely have to interview her. Leaning back, I couldn’t help just thinking about what I could do with her.
I was already a little hard just from looking at a picture of her. Looking around the room, I undid my jeans. It wasn’t as if my brother would wake up anytime soon. I grabbed my dick, gently rubbing it as I stared at her breasts and face, imagining those full lips kissing me, those breasts pressed against my chest. I thought of squeezing that full ass as she bounced on my lap, and thrusting myself deep inside her.
My dick began to ache and harden just at the thought of her, and I let out a groan, rubbing it harder, thinking of her mouth on my cock, sucking and licking. I thought of bending her over my desk right there, taking her doggy style after knocking everything off and onto the floor. I came quickly, groaned, and scrambled for napkins in my desk to clean up the mess.
When my mind was a little clearer, I considered the “no sex with the assistant” pact I’d made the guys agree to and felt a little guilty. Just for a moment, I thought about not marking her for an interview. But between her impressive resume and those eyes…yeah, I definitely wanted to interview her. In fact, there was no way I couldn't.
“Nalia,” I said aloud as I stared at her picture. “You and I are definitely gonna meet. And I have to say, part of me hopes you blow me away in this interview and part of me hopes you totally bomb it. So, what’s it going to be?”
Chapter Six
Nalia
I was starving. And since I hadn’t had any breakfast, I decided to make myself an early lunch. I put some music on in the kitchen and started chopping up stuff for a big, chef salad, which would go a long way toward satiating my hunger. Grace strolled downstairs just as I was pouring dressing over the monster creation and grabbed a fork from a drawer, taking a bite out of the salad as she plopped onto a tall chair at the counter.
“Mmm, this is good, Nay. You make yummy salads.” She grinned, her hair in a messy bun on top of her head, bits of it sticking out all over the place.
“I can’t believe how late we slept in,” I said, grabbing each of us a water from the fridge.
“Well, I don’t think either of us slept too well out in San Diego,” she replied with a mischievous grin on her face.
“I actually got plenty of sleep, unlike you. Granted, it was on a couch in the lounge, so it wasn't the comfiest night ever,” I joked, stabbing my fork into the salad. “You’re the one that didn’t get much sleep, Missy. You were far too busy with other things, I believe.”
“Guilty as charged.” Grace held a hand up and smiled before taking another forkful. We both giggled.
“Seriously, though, I had a fun time at the club, even though we weren't exactly there for too long. I really love Le Venin,” I said. I actually did have fu
n, despite playing wing woman to Grace while she got some. In spite of that, it had just been really nice to get away for a little while, and I always liked going to the beach down there.
“It was a fun trip,” she agreed, taking another bite. “God, this salad is so good. You really do have a talent for whipping these things up.”
“Speaking of 'tossing the salad,' I wonder if that guy knew who he was banging,” I said, snickering. “Grace Nelson, starlet of The Turning Globe.”
That devious grin came back over her face. “He had no idea at all, girl. None whatsoever! Just imagine if he happens across a commercial for it. I think it's safe to say he'll get quite a shock!”
We both giggled again, imagining the poor guy’s reaction.
“Speaking of the show, what’s your new co-star like? Eric Donovan, was it?”
“Ugh, he’s a total ass,” she groaned as she rolled her eyes, stabbing at the salad again. “He's got a serious attitude problem. But he's really stacked down below, though, if you know what I mean.”
“Wait, what? You already banged him?” I nearly choked on my salad. Grace gave me a helpless shrug, and I just rolled my eyes and shook my head. The woman was insatiable, it seemed—and far too reckless about it. This was not the first time this had happened, not by a long shot.
“Come on, Grace; I'm not trying to be judgmental or anything, I’m really not, but isn’t that how you ended up having problems with the last guy? I mean, you do know that old saying about not shitting where you eat, and all that?” I raised an eyebrow at her.
“Maybe. It didn't matter anyway, though. The writers killed him off, and that was that, problem solved,” Grace grinned.
“Just be careful with that untamable libido of yours, or they might kill you off next,” I warned her. “We don't need you being out of work as well as me. Gosh, imagine that! What a train wreck it would be, the pair of us both unemployed!”
“The writers wouldn't kill me off. Well, not right now, anyway. I’m the most popular character on the show… But yeah, I get what you’re saying. I know it's best to keep work and play separate, so I’ll try to behave. The keyword there, of course, is try. I'm not about to make promises I can't keep when I'm surrounded by hot guys all the time!” She winked at me and grabbed her water.
Eventually, we managed to finish off the salad, and thirty minutes later, we decided to go for a long jog. I went upstairs and changed into a sports bra, running shorts, and a tank top. Pulling my hair back into a quick bun, I rushed back downstairs. Grace was already dressed and ready to go and was just busy tying her sneakers. We grabbed our sunglasses before heading out into the heat, ready to work up a good sweat.
I put in my headphones to block out any catcalls and followed her down the street. L.A. was crowded, as it always was. I both loved and hated living amongst all the people. Sometimes it was inspiring and energizing, but other times I found it downright draining, overwhelming, and exhausting. L.A. definitely hadn't been my first choice in living destinations.
I’d come out with Grace long ago when she landed her first job as an actress, but the difference between her and I was that I didn’t have to stay like she did. Nothing was holding me to this place. I could go anywhere I wanted, in theory at least. Why I hadn’t, I wasn’t sure. Maybe I’d just gotten comfortable staying in L.A. with my best friend, or maybe I was a little too scared of change. The thought of striking out on my own into unknown territory was more than a little intimidating.
I had also thought I could do more with my music by being in L.A., but, so far, everything I tried in that regard had proved fruitless. And what was more, passing all the billboards as we ran most days didn’t do much for my ego in that department. They were usually filled with new bands or singers being promoted because they’d managed to strike gold and get signed on with a label, unlike me. Their smiling success was a constant mockery of my constant failure. Today was no exception.
We came to an intersection, and the walk signal flashed, so Grace and I went to go. As we did, a horn blared, and Grace grabbed my arm, tugging me out of the way just quick enough to avoid both of us getting hit by some asshole in a convertible.
“Hey! We have the right of way, jerk wad!” I shouted after the car, tugging off my headphones. Both Grace and I frowned at each other, continuing across the street.
“Sometimes I really hate it out here,” she grumbled, breathing heavily as she jogged. “There really are so many entitled, arrogant assholes in this part of the country.”
“Yeah, some of these people really get to me. And, the place itself gets to me at times, as well, I hate to say.”
“You know, I’m stuck out here, but you’re not,” Grace said, as if she’d been reading my mind. “You don't have anything chaining you to this place. No job, no boyfriend, no family. You could be anywhere you want to be.”
“I know,” I admitted as I jogged next to her. “Trust me, it's something that's been on my mind a lot. Especially on days like this.”
“Maybe you should go somewhere else. At least, for a bit. You know, give some other place a try while you still have the freedom to do that.”
“You want me to leave? Trying to get rid of me for your one-night stands?” I asked her with a hint of laugh.
“Yep, that’s it,” she fired back. “No, but seriously, Nalia. I know you want to travel and see the world. Maybe it’s about time you do that. You're only young and free once. Me, I'm living out my dream, kind of at least, even if it means I have to be here. But you, you're not.
“So, maybe you should look for a job that travels some. And, let's keep our fingers crossed because that job you put in for will help some if you get it. Touring the country with a crazy-ass, mega-famous rock band would totally be your kind of thing.”
I laughed. “That’s a big if, you know. And, it’s hard to travel the world with no money and not much of an education.”
“Whatever! There's no need to be so pessimistic about this. Remember, where there is a will, there is a way,” Grace said. “Come on, I should be proof of that. You remember how many things I auditioned for before I finally caught a break? I mean, there were weeks, months even, when it seemed I'd have to pack my bags and leave this town with my tail between my legs and try go back to the real world to find some kinda office job or something.
“But I persisted, and I never gave up. And sure enough, I caught my break in the end. And, I'm sure that you’ll catch your break, too; you just have to keep pushing at it.”
“I know, I know. It just feels like I’m pushing a lot, and the world is just pushing me right back. Only a lot harder,” I said.
“Nalia, you’re talented, beautiful, and smart. I have no doubt that eventually, things will fall into place for you if you keep going.”
“Well, maybe if I don’t find a job by the end of the week, I’ll start looking for a new adventure, maybe another way to get my music out there. I mean, I have to, right? I can't keep going on like this. Something's gotta change, and I have to instigate that change.”
“That’s the spirit,” she smiled at me, wiping sweat from her forehead. “We should go out tonight to celebrate whatever new adventure of yours lies ahead.”
“You just want to go out again and find a handsome boy to toy with, don’t you?” I teased.
“Maybe. But hey, dancing is a good exercise, too!” she shot back, jogging faster. I followed, trying to catch up to her.
Chapter Seven
Owen
I groaned as I opened yet another file, this one a contract that needed review. I loved owning my own record company, but hated dealing with all the paperwork and the admin work that came with it. I’d already looked through so many documents in the past six hours that I felt like I would go cross-eyed.
My favorite part of owning the company was helping produce the actual music, forgetting about the paperwork, just turning out good albums and helping other artists succeed at their dreams. That was what made the blood pump faster thro
ugh my veins—not reviewing damn contracts.
I wasn’t sure why I’d avoided getting Bleeding Heart back together as long as I had, but I was thanking God we were about to go back on tour. And I couldn't deny that I was wishing I’d have already given more of the paperwork load to my second in command at the record label, instead of waiting until a week before we hit the road. This shit really wasn't what I wanted to be focusing my energy on.
I closed the document, needing to give both my eyes and my brain a break. I strolled around my office, looking at my shelves, decorated with various items of Bleeding Heart memorabilia. There were tons of pictures from the road, awards, tour posters, and even a couple of framed records hanging on a wall.
Why the hell we ever stopped, I wasn’t sure. I knew part of it was because I was focused on starting the record company, but maybe I should have kept the band up, too. I wondered where we would be now if I’d done so. Still, it wasn't good to dwell on things that would have been or could have been. After all, the past was the past, and it's not as if we can go back and change things.
A buzz came from the intercom on my desk, followed by my secretary’s voice. “Mr. Young? You available?”
“Yes, Aubrey. What’s up?”
“You're due at North Star Agency in an hour. Just giving you a reminder. Also, you never put in an order for lunch. Did you want me to run out and grab you something?”
Just then my stomach grumbled, as if on cue. “No, you know what? I need to get out of the office, anyway. I’ll just head out now and grab something on the way,” I told her. “Thanks, though.”
“Sounds good, boss. Good luck finding someone at the agency!” she said in her chipper voice. I smiled and thanked her again, grabbing my wallet off my desk. North Star wasn’t too far, so I figured I’d walk. Getting a bit of light exercise would be good for clearing my head, and there was a good sandwich shop on the way I could stop at.
Less than twenty minutes later, I was at the sandwich shop. I went inside and headed straight for the counter to order a hoagie. Just as I handed the cashier a twenty, someone let out a squeal behind me. I spun around to see a group of twenty-somethings staring at me, wide-eyed.
