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Dex (Kinky Shine #1)

Page 2

by Stephanie Witter


  “You’re fucking with me.’’

  I shook my head. “I’d prefer that. Shit, I asked her who she’s fucking to get here!’’

  Maxen whistled and looked around us again to make sure nobody was listening. “You’re fucked. If she tells him he’s going to tear you a new one. The dude is short and lean, but you don’t fuck with a daddy’s girl.’’

  “Do you think I knew who she was? Shit, I didn’t even know she was here to stay!’’

  “Calm down.’’ He grabbed my shoulder and shook me to look back at him, stretching my shirt with his strong grip. “Calm the fuck down. It’s not the end of the world, Dex. When we see her you apologize. Problem’s solved.’’

  “She said I’m a jerk.’’

  “You can’t blame the girl there.’’

  I nodded and took a deep breath, starting to feel more like myself. The tension in my body started to ease off and breathing wasn’t as hard anymore. Maxen released me with a warning in his flashing green eyes. I nodded. We didn’t need to talk to get each other. That was the good thing about having him in the band, we were family for better or worse and I knew the guys all had my back.

  “I don’t get why we need a babysitter. It’s not like we’ve been in a scandal and the sales of our last album are still fucking good.’’

  “I don’t get it either. Floyd said something about our online presence or some shit. I stopped listening when he dropped the bomb. I don’t think Otis and Beckett were that into it either.’’

  I sighed and with my frown still on my face, I looked down the hall and saw Otis and Beckett walking to us, each with a mug in hand.

  HARLEY

  “If they’re all like Dex Bowers, I think you have a problem. It’s a wonder there isn’t any hellish story out there about them already.’’

  “We have a good PR team.’’ Dad sighed and leaned back in his chair, massaging his temples. “Was he rude during the interview? Usually, he’s more the silent type and one-word answers.’’

  I cringed at the very fresh, very annoying memory of my few minutes in Dex’s presence. “He was rude and obviously in a bad mood. He’s been in the business for four years already, he knows how this all works, Dad.’’ I ran a hand through my brown hair and rubbed at my tense neck a few seconds. “They’re going to be difficult, aren’t they?’’

  “They’re good guys, but they’re also stars. The rock scene isn’t always the easiest and these men are—‘’

  “Men.’’ I stressed out with annoyance. “I know that.’’ I puffed some air and sighed heavily. Three weeks ago when my father called me with this temporary job offer I was shocked. Dad had always told me he would never let me work with him, never give me a privileged access to any rockstars. Of course, I had met my fair share of famous people since then, but still. I knew going in it would be a difficult task, but my best friend had convinced me to come here and honestly I couldn’t pass the chance of meeting the hottest band out there. If only it hadn’t been a huge disappointment. “I still don’t get why they’re not online. From what you told me, they don’t ever post on the band Facebook page, they don’t post on the band’s Twitter account either and the only moment when they interact with fans is when they have a private concert or right after a concert to selected fans. Why?’’

  “Back in college they all had a small platform on Facebook and Twitter, but apparently it went south. Honey, I didn’t know them then and now they’re perfectly content staying together and keeping the world out. They say they already have to do all the PR stuff we push on them.’’ Dad glanced at his buzzing phone on his desk and quickly typed a text back. He seemed tired, but it wasn’t a surprise. The band was heading in the wrong direction and he, as the band manager, must be smack in between the band and the label.

  “I’m not a magician. If they don’t cooperate there’s only so much I can do.’’

  “I know that. Just do your best. Show them that they can use Twitter or any other social media they want to and that it doesn’t have to be alienating. I know you can open them up. You have a degree in mass communication after all.’’

  I stood up and shouldered my purse. “I’m starting to think that the salary isn’t as exorbitant as I had first thought.’’

  Dad laughed and his green eyes brightened significantly. I rounded the big desk and leaned down to clumsily hug him sideways. He wrapped an arm around my right shoulder and squeezed me. “It’s good to see you, honey. I’ve missed you a lot.’’

  “I’ve missed you too, but don’t start and guilt trip me into moving back here to LA.’’

  “Touché.’’

  I walked back toward the door and called out. “I’m going to meet the band and explain a few things to them. I don’t think it’s going to last long so tell Mom I’ll be there to get dinner ready with her.’’

  Once in the hall, I didn’t know where to go. The label was in a huge building and the bandmates could be anywhere. For all I knew they might even be gone already. I started walking toward the elevators where I knew a reception desk was. I quickly located it with its neon green color. Two women and a man were behind the reception desk, offering plastic smiles. I went to the young man, the only one not talking on the phone.

  “Excuse me, I’m Harley Floyd and I’m supposed to have a meeting with Dex Bowers, Maxen Walton, Otis Patel, and Beckett Kline. Could you tell me where they are and which meeting room we could use?’’

  The muddy brown eyes of the man narrowed on me. “Harley Floyd you say? Is this meeting written somewhere?’’

  I clenched my teeth. Of course, they’re not going to let me in that easily. If all the fans that walked in here claimed to have a meeting with Kinky Shine and got through security to see the guys it could be an issue. I glanced down and looked at the visitor badge they gave me downstairs and straightened up. “Forget it, I’ll do it myself.’’

  “Wait! Miss!’’ he yelled and the dozen people walking by to their offices stopped and stared. Great. Perfect. There wasn’t a doubt that a deep blush creeped up on my face as heat burnt my cheeks. “You can’t walk around like that.’’

  “I have been in this building for the last two and a half hours. I think if I was a nut job I’d have stripped and dry humped the band by now.’’ I retorted louder than I intended and of course, a few chuckles broke through the haze of anger that didn’t seem to let go of me.

  “Not that I would have minded,’’ said a male voice I immediately recognized coming from behind me.

  I tensed some more and willed a do-over. If there ever was a day I wished to do-over, it was this one. I cleared my throat, tugged on one of my sleeves and turned around to face Maxen Walton who had a crooked smile and a twinkle in his eyes that didn’t bode well. Behind him the other band members stood there, staring at me. My eyes stopped on Dex and I saw him cringe. At least now he felt bad. I took a deep breath and centered myself before I faced Maxen again and extended my hand for a professional handshake. I needed to save the little credit I had left at this point.

  He chuckled and shook my hand, but instead of releasing me, he kept my hand trapped in his while his thumb traced small circles. I arched an eyebrow at him and his smile got even more pronounced, but contrary to Dex, Maxen didn’t have a dimple. “Nice to meet you, babe.’’

  The man was handsome beyond words with his light blond hair, twinkling green eyes and strong jaw and nose. And it was without saying that his body was a work of art as much for the muscles as for the tattoos, but I knew all too well his reputation. He was the bad boy of the band and I had never been attracted to bad boys, as handsome and sex on a stick as they were.

  “My name is Harley. Stick with it.’’

  He blinked at me and the sexy twinkle in his eyes was replaced by an amused spark. He nodded, but still didn’t release my hand. Okay, that’s weird.

  “Maxen,’’ Dex called out sternly as he walked to us, leaving Otis and Beckett behind to watch the scene with a bewildered interest laced with
what I thought was caution.

  “What now? At least, I’m not calling her a slut like you did.’’

  Dex’s face turned even more stony. He forcefully grabbed Maxen’s thick wrist and forced him to release me. The men glared at each other for a few seconds and finally Maxen shrugged and patted Dex on the shoulder.

  “I don’t know what is going on, but I would like a few minutes of your time, guys. If we could have an access to a meeting room that would be great.’’

  “I can arrange that,’’ Dex said immediately with a low voice, the same smoky sound was now grating on my nerves. I could still hear that offending question echo in my head.

  He turned around and briefly talked to the same guy who had been looking at me suspiciously minutes ago. This time around he bent to Dex’s demands and not even five minutes later we were in a big room with more chairs available than needed and water bottles set on the huge table. I shook Otis and Beckett’s hands before we took a seat around the rectangular table, me on one side and the Kinky Shine members on the other side. It was intimidating to have these big guys in front of me, sitting and waiting for me to talk.

  Otis seemed a little green and kept on squinting at the light. He probably had a hangover. It was well-known that he was the partier of the band. Beckett was nursing his coffee with gusto, his eyes never leaving me as if he expected me to break out in a murdering rampage.

  Maxen and Dex seemed attentive to me, cautious, but not overly hostile. It was a surprise coming from the latter considering how our interview went down.

  I cleared my throat and grabbed my cell phone from my purse. It was your standard iPhone, well-used and loved. I held it up to show them and then put it in front of me on the table. “This isn’t just a tool to make calls, text your fuck buddies or check the internet.’’

  Beckett choked on his coffee, Otis’s eyes widened, Maxen chuckled and Dex tensed. I had all their attention. I offered them my sweetest smile, dimples out, straight white teeth on display and I knew my big green eyes looked bright and innocent. “Do you know why I’m here?’’

  “Enlighten us. Floyd gave us the bullshit speech about needing to broaden our reach or something like that,’’ Otis mumbled, massaging his temples. “But please, don’t talk too fucking loud.’’

  “You’re twenty-five. By now you know that partying and drinking means hangover the next day. Suck it up, fucker,’’ Dex said without apology or understanding. He crossed his big arms over his chest and his tattoos briefly sidetracked me.

  “Fuck off,’’ Otis retorted and brought his elbows on the table and put his head in his hands to support it.

  “I told you already; fuck the toxins out of your body, Otis. It works every-fucking-time,’’ Maxen added his two cents, leaning back in his chair and smirking at his friends and bandmates. Only Beckett kept quiet, but he had a smirk on his face at the exchange.

  Dex elbowed Maxen and nodded at me.

  “Does it shock you, Harley?’’ Maxen asked me with a chuckle in his voice. He was probably having a kick out of trying to shock me. Too bad I needed more than that.

  “As long as I don’t ever see you in action, you can’t shock me, Maxen.’’ I winked at him and looked back at Dex who was glaring at me.

  “You sure you don’t want to see? I can tell you, it’s very…satisfying.’’

  “She’s Floyd’s daughter!’’

  “Oh, chill Dex.’’

  I held up both hands and all four men focused back on me. “Let’s clear this up right now. I am your manager’s daughter, I’m also on a payroll here and I have a degree in mass communication.’’ I fixed Dex a look then. “My unknown and small blog has over five hundred thousand followers. I opened it eight months ago and before you ask, yes it is my full-time job now. I’m here not only because the salary your label is giving me is damn good, but also because I like challenges and I happen to love your music. Does that mean I’m going to let you ignore me? Hell no. Don’t forget I have a media outlet and what I write could bring hell to your band. I don’t want you to kiss my ass, but I want you to listen to me and consider my ideas. Got it?’’

  “And what if we don’t?’’ Dex asked, his frown even more pronounced than earlier when I had first met him.

  “We’re not friends, so I’d ask for a meeting with your manager and the big wigs who gave me this contract to sign. Then they’re probably going to bust your asses to get some new songs for your next album or force you to record some lame-ass songs written and composed by someone else. Either way, you guys are fucked and stuck.’’ I mirrored Dex’s stance and crossed my arms.

  “We’re not into the social media stuff,’’ Beckett piped up. “We have a PR team doing the whole Twitter and Facebook stuff.’’

  “Here’s the thing. You all are twenty-five and you know what it’s like today. Everybody is at least on one social media platforms. Fans love interacting with their favorite actors or bands. Even if they don’t answer them, they love the idea of being able to try, to have a connection even if it’s a fake one and only electronic. Your PR people are there to let your fans know of your next gigs, of where you’re going to be interviewed, of your next promotional photo shoot. They’re not you, they promote your brand: Kinky Shine. You, each one of you, make Kinky Shine.’’

  Maxen nodded and toyed with his eyebrow piercing. “It’s all good, but our sales are good, great even. We’re still number one.’’

  “But for how long? From where I’m standing you don’t have anything ready or in progress for your next album, you have a very thin connection with your fans and yet they’re completely enthralled, but if you can’t produce something wonderful for your next album, will they still be as devoted to you if you don’t have a deeper connection with them? Did you know that even your most faithful fans, members of the official fan group the Kinky Shiny Things, are complaining that you’re so unattainable compared to other big bands? That’s the reality. You must branch out if you want your career to last and grow even more.’’

  The men shared a long look, and while I knew I had them, I was also very much aware that their willingness was going to vary. I would put all my savings on the fact that Dex would be the most reluctant. The guy could barely say a word during interviews.

  Maxen focused back on me and his crooked smirk went up a notch. “Alright, Harley, you make a fair point. What’s your plan?’’

  My smile became wider and I grabbed my buzzing phone, checking who was calling me. When I saw Delaney’s name on my screen I let it go to voicemail. My best friend could wait a little bit longer. I knew she couldn’t wait for me to dish something regarding Kinky Shine. The girl was a gossip fanatic when you let her.

  “First of all, tell me which social media platform you’d feel most comfortable using. I don’t think we should use multiple ones to begin with. Your fans will know where to find you in no time and I’ll make sure to post an article on my blog to let people know about your new online presence.’’

  “Hm…don’t know. What about you guys?’’ Maxen asked the guys and they all shrugged, except Dex who grunted something under his breath that had Maxen barking out a loud laugh.

  I glared at Dex, but the guy didn’t care. He kept his eyes on the water bottles in front of him. “Something to say, Dex?’’

  He arched an eyebrow at me, his piercing blazing under the neon lights above us. “We don’t give a fuck which social platform we’re going to use. This is dumb as fuck. Clear enough?’’

  My grip on my phone tightened and I felt myself starting to shake from head to toes. That, right there, that attitude, reminded me why working from home for my blog was the best decision I had ever made. I wanted to say, screw this and leave, but I was bound by a contract and it was known that a contract with a label like this one was like selling your soul. You were stuck.

  “Loud and clear.’’ I turned toward his bandmates and swore to myself I wouldn’t look at him again until this meeting was over. “Considering you don
’t have a preference and because I know some of you aren’t that talkative,’’ I let Maxen, Otis and Beckett’s chuckles die before continuing. “Twitter is a safe bet. You can post anything from a link, picture, or a sentence and it’s easy to use. The good thing for you, it’s only a hundred and forty characters. Hard to mess up and it doesn’t take up too much time.’’

  “Alright, then,’’ Beckett spoke up and pushed away his mug, probably empty now. “What do we do now?’’

  I wanted to roll my eyes at them. What twenty-five year old didn’t have a social media platform to their name? That seemed completely foreign to me. “Download the Twitter app and then set up your own account. Make sure you pick a good Twitter handle that reflects your personality.’’ I glanced quickly at Dex, breaking my own promise. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t show your true colors too vividly.’’

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him glare at me and Maxen elbowing him while laughing quietly. They all grabbed their phones and started setting it up. My eyebrows disappeared behind my thick bangs at seeing them so compliant. Even Dex.

  “The fuck…’’ he grumbled and sighed, his grip on his phone became deadly. His knuckles turned white and the thick black letters tattooed on them started to contrast more intensely.

  “What now?’’ I asked with a defeated sigh. I knew it was too easy.

  *

  DEX

  I glared at her, that woman was fucking up this shitty day even more than it already was. Her big green eyes showed how irritated with me she was and it was very fucking much reciprocal. Without her thick glasses, she looked younger. Prettier. But she was also a royal pain in my ass.

  “What am I supposed to pick for the handle?’’ I hated asking for help, telling someone else I was failing. It had always been like that. The guys knew this and while only Maxen knew where it came from and even witnessed some stuff from my past, this girl was the intruder and that pissed me the fuck off even more. All I wanted was to throw my cell against the nearest green wall.

  “Pick whatever, man,’’ Maxen said, interrupting my thoughts right before I could utter another offending thing to this woman who brought out the worst in me.

 

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