Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“To assist on Delirious Jones’s upcoming tour. But I don’t think that’s going to be happening. Pretty sure I flubbed the interview, because I was unprepared.” As in, I had no idea I was applying for a job today.
And why am I still standing here talking to this guy?
“I see.”
“Do you work here?” I asked.
He stared at me like I had ten heads. “Yeah. I work with the band.”
“Can you tell me what it’s like working for them? Would I be getting myself into some deep shit by taking this position? I don’t think I’m gonna get it, but in the event they call me back, I’d like to know if I’m getting in over my head.”
“What do you consider deep shit?”
“I’ve just never been part of a scene like this.”
He chuckled. “You mean like…sex, drugs, and rock and roll?”
“Right.”
“Well…” He crossed his arms. “There are a few things I should warn you about.”
“Okay.”
“You should know, there are orgies almost every night.”
My eyes widened. “There are?”
He nodded. “Then there’s the BDSM bus.”
“BDSM…bus?”
“Yup. Whatever you do, make sure they don’t assign you to that. Unless you like your nipples clamped and your ass whipped on the regular.”
I chewed my lip. “Um…”
“And do you do magic mushrooms?” He pointed at me. “If so, you’ll fit right in.” The smirk on his face finally gave him away.
“You’re bullshitting me?”
“I am.” He chuckled. “There are no orgies, and as much as a BDSM bus sounds kind of fun, it doesn’t exist.”
“What about the drugs?”
“There are always some drugs around. But the guys in the band don’t do them. Just a little weed here and there. Why are you so concerned? No one would force you to do anything you didn’t want to. If you see something you don’t like, just look the other way. In any case, if you’re working the tour, trust me, you’ll be too busy to notice.”
“I guess that’s a good thing.” I swallowed.
“Why did you apply for the position?” He cocked his head. “You seem apprehensive about it. You shouldn’t do anything you don’t really want to do.”
That’s a great question. “Things have been tough in my personal life the past few years, and I need a change.”
That was my second truthful statement of the day.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “You want to talk about it?”
“Not in a men’s room with a complete stranger. That would be a bit weird.”
He shrugged. “You weren’t the one with your ass hanging out a second ago. Talk about weird.”
“Well, that’s one point in my corner today.” I looked away as a few seconds of awkward silence passed. “Is the band nice?”
After a moment, he nodded. “They’re okay. The lead singer, Tristan, has good days and bad. He’s not as talented as people give him credit for. He mainly got lucky to be where he is. He’s struggling with some stuff this year, actually, and it’s showing.”
Hmm... “That’s too bad.”
“What do you think of their music?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I’ve heard of them, of course. But I’m not a fan or anything. I don’t really know their music.”
He grinned. “Seriously? Why the hell would you want this job, then?”
“I sort of…fell into the opportunity. I’ll go home tonight and google more of their stuff so I can be prepared if by some miracle I get the position.”
“Well, if you want to check out their songs, look at their earlier stuff—from five or six years ago. Between you and me, the more recent material sucks in comparison, even if it’s the most popular.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks for the tip.”
“You’re welcome.”
I pointed over my shoulder at the door. “Well, I’d better get out of here and find the right bathroom.”
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Emily.”
Then the door opened, and another man entered. He looked between us. “What the fuck are you up to in here, Tristan? We’re waiting on you.”
Tristan?
He’d said he worked for the band.
Oh gosh.
I suppose being the freaking lead singer qualified as work. I hadn’t recognized him. My cheeks burned all over again, and a rush of adrenaline shot through me.
Tristan winked at me. “Nice talking to you, Emily. Good luck with the job.”
Both men left together, leaving me with my jaw hanging open.
***
That evening, I’d barely gotten back to my home in Henderson, Nevada, when my cell phone rang. It was a number I didn’t recognize. “Hello?”
“Is this Emily?”
“Yes.”
“This is Doug Elias from the interview today.”
“Oh…” My heart skipped a beat. “Hi.”
“I’d like to offer you the position, if you want it.”
What? “Wow. Um…okay. I wasn’t expecting that. You gave me the impression it was a long shot.”
“Yeah, well, apparently, you ran into Tristan in the bathroom, I’m told? God knows how that happened. But am I right?”
“Yes.” I licked my lips.
“He liked your…trepidation. Said it proved you cared. He also liked the fact that you didn’t know who the hell he was. He said that was refreshing. So, even though I personally wouldn’t have chosen you—no offense—it’s his preference that I offer you the job.”