Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 93957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“It’s an honor. Such an honor to meet you. I’ve been following you since the very beginning. I used to come by Aromatique when you and Justin and Tegan would do those mini concerts. I saw you at the Troubadour a couple of times too and the Hollywood Bowl last summer. You guys are…special. I mean—” Myron turned to Darren and Harry and threw his hands in the air. “This man is the next Keith Richards. I kid you not.”
Darren feigned interest like a pro. Or maybe he was interested. Either way, he was in his element, dressed to kill in a bright-yellow gauzy shirt and linen trousers while Harry looked like a banker brooding into his cup of joe on a Monday. He’d perk up when the food arrived or the conversation turned to spreadsheets. Whichever came first.
I pasted a smile on my face and somehow managed not to chuckle at Myron Bernstein kissing my boyfriend’s ass. My boyfriend. Hmm…
Back to Myron. He was a short, round, balding, and very unassuming fortysomething-year-old with a knack for making money. He was one of the major account VPs in charge of investments at McMillan. In the five years since I’d joined Harry and Darren in business, I’d dealt with him a few times on smaller projects and found him to be extremely competent and always professional. That made sense. He literally handled billions of dollars in financing projects. Our real estate venture in LA was a huge deal for Harry, Darren, and me, but it was only a medium-sized one for Myron and his firm.
However, it looked like meeting a band member of Zero was Myron’s idea of hitting the lottery. Specifically, Johnny. I took the empty chair next to Darren, casting a watchful gaze at the area beyond the row of palms, listening with half an ear as Myron enthusiastically fanboyed about all things Zero.
Myron grinned like a fool. “I’m almost ashamed to admit this, but I was a fan of Gypsy Coma too.”
Johnny smiled. “That’s okay. I wasn’t in that band. Justin and Tegan survived and—”
“I know. It’s truly amazing what you’ve built from scratch. I’m so impressed. McMillan is a large conglomerate. Sonoma sparkling water is just one of our divisions. I’m not queer myself, but selling diversity is good for sales. I know that sounds opportunistic, but I’m a realist. Just like these men here.” Myron gestured around the table, then reached for his glass, wrapping pudgy fingers around the goblet’s stem.
“Amen, darling.” Darren held a hand up, motioning for a waiter. “But we need a mimosa infusion ASAP and menus for our guests before we go any further.”
As if on cue, a pitcher of mimosas and crisp menus were delivered with the promise of coffee a moment later. I chuckled softly at Darren’s satisfied expression and Harry’s resigned one as the brunch ritual began.
I reached for my coffee and tuned into Myron’s animated chatter. Granted, I’d only met him in conference rooms and over the occasional thousand-dollar business dinner, but I’d never seen him so unabashedly excited.
“I’ve made it my mission to shake up the conservative board at McMillan with some positive change,” Myron said, unfolding his napkin like a flag and setting it on his lap. “It’s time to move into the twenty-first century, and I believe Zero is our ticket.”
Johnny quirked his brow in amusement. “Oh, yeah?”
“You have the right message at the right time and a ton of sex appeal. The kind that crosses generations and socio-economic spheres. And better still, Zero is extraordinarily popular across all forms of social media. Not an easy feat these days. And have you noticed the curious glances aimed at our table? My kids are going to be very jealous when I end up on Twitter with a famous rock star,” Myron enthused.
“I need to stop you right there,” Johnny intercepted. “I don’t want to pose for photos today. I’m here for a weekend getaway before the band heads into the studio. That’s all.”
“Oh, I wasn’t talking about me. You have quite a few fans in this restaurant. The public paparazzi can’t believe their good fortune.”
Johnny frowned as he reached for his mimosa. “Yeah, I wonder what that’s all about.”
“You’re all over the Internet today.”
“I am?”
“I think it’s the buzz from the Instagram post about Zero’s photo shoot with Clay Kanzler,” Myron replied matter-of-factly.
“Oh. Huh. Yeah, that’s in the works.”
Myron narrowed his gaze. “Mind if I get nosy? I saw the other post about you and Clay. It’s a beautiful shot, but it insinuates that there might be someth—”
“Hang on. What post?” Johnny asked, pulling out his cell.
“It was on a Zero fan page. Let me see if I can find it.” He scrolled intently, then passed his phone to Johnny.
“Unreal.” He showed me the handle and returned Myron’s phone. “I’m not with Clay in any personal capacity whatsoever, if that’s what you’re curious about.”