Series: Fever Falls Series by Riley Hart
Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“See? Just like I said. Slacking.”
“I can at least position myself to enjoy all this manliness.”
I checked out the guys’ hot bodies. Even if they weren’t the guys Jace hit the gym with, they sure got their own time in whenever they did go.
Damn.
Quincy called, “Okay, can I get Mac in for a couple of shots?” And then he turned to a PA who was giving Mac all the belly rubs he could have possibly desired.
After we wrapped at the station, we hit Fever Pitch, where they’d closed shop for the afternoon to accommodate the shoot. I headed to chat with Elliott while the crew worked to light Jace and his buddies. They’d started up a game of cards with a pack Jace had retrieved from the billiards room. Despite how unfazed he seemed by everything that was going on around him, his occasional glance around, wide-eyed and grinning ear to ear, proved he was enjoying himself nearly as much as his buddies.
It was the more appealing part of the gig, I knew that much. It was all fun and games when it was just a production. When the spotlight was on you and you didn’t have to deal with it affecting your life.
I slid into a booth with Elliott and Carter. Elliott was scrolling on his phone while Carter keyed away at his iPad.
“I moved my Nashville flight to tomorrow,” Elliott said. “Figure while I’m close, I can go see Margot Jennings.”
Jennings was a country music artist who’d recently signed with us, looking to make her transition into pop, and Elliott was still hammering out the details with her people. Though Elliott and I shared several accounts, like Hacksmore, each of us also took jobs we pulled commissions from separately.
“Trying to bail out of Fever Falls so fast?”
He laughed, glancing up from his phone briefly. “Not fast enough is more like it.”
“Oh, come on. It’s a nice place. And it’s not like it’s some small town. There’s a lot going on here.”
“Up-and-coming,” Carter offered before giggling. Despite being on his iPad the whole time since I’d sat down, as befitted Carter, he was obviously paying more attention than he was letting on.
“I think you’re more than capable of handling all this,” Elliott said.
“I’m always more than capable of handling anything. But since we have a night, wanna grab some dinner later? Play catch-up?”
“I’d love to, but I already scheduled to meet up with Ash Carmichael.”
It was a fair reason for him to be busy, considering Ash was one of his most popular clients.
“I’d invite you, but it’s gonna be at his partner’s mother’s place, and I don’t know if they’re going to have room.”
“No, no. It’s fine. Carter, did you want to grab a bite?”
“I actually already have a date.”
“Are we using the word date loosely here?”
“Nothing loose over here,” Carter quipped, which got Elliott and me laughing. “This little PA can get action anytime he needs it, don’t you worry about me.”
“Trust us,” Elliott said, “you are the last guy in the world we’re worried about getting some action…so long as you play safe and keep getting tested.”
Elliott winked, and Carter added, “Please. I think I’m tested about as much as a monkey at the CDC.”
We all enjoyed a laugh, then tended to some other business obligations before my phone buzzed on the table as a call came in.
“I see Serena’s name,” Elliott said, his eyes getting wide, like he knew what I was about to endure.
“Calling for her weekly checkup?” Carter asked.
I sent the call to voice mail, replying, “And here I thought you understood my mother by now, Carter. We don’t do weekly checkups. We have weekly meetings.”
“How did she like that yoga retreat she was on?” Elliott asked. “I was thinking Steve and I might want to go to something like that.”
“Well, she came back enlightened, but apparently she only had epiphanies about how I should be living my life.”
Elliott and Carter seemed amused at my expense. Nothing wrong with a bit of schadenfreude among friends.
My phone buzzed again. “I’m gonna go take this,” I said, and went out the back to take her call, entertaining her ramblings for a bit before reminding her that I had to get back to work. As I went back inside, I noticed a guy behind the bar, where I’d seen Dallas working the past few times I’d been here. He was an older man with a bald spot on his scalp, and he cradled a box in his arms, struggling with it as he set it on the counter. He turned to start for a stack of them on an L-cart, so I approached him.
“Hey, man, did you need any help with that?”
“I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”
“It’s no trouble at all,” I said, and grabbed the top box from the cart.