I, on the other hand, had slaved away the better half of the last six months, barely scraping in to get this position and I didn’t intend on losing it. How I scored this gig in just six months was beyond me, but it was pain staking and the rumor mill at work had been in full swing.
I had been called every name under the sun; a slut, a whore and a money hungry woman who would sleep with the boss to further her career. Truth was, my boss was the nicest person you could meet. Hank Leroy was not only my employer but also my roommate. He was all of thirty and had grown up in the L.A. lifestyle, which meant the guy had money and a lot of it.
When I first moved here, I had been bunking at a friend of a friend’s place.
When that so called ‘friend’ tried to feel me up one night, I bailed and ended up having
to spend a few nights in a slummy hotel far from work, until I could sort myself out. Hank, being the nice and charming guy that he was, offered me a room in his ridiculously big mansion in Beverly Hills.
I, of course, tried my best to say no, but the guy could be awfully persuasive. After a little sweet-talking on his behalf, we finally agreed that I would happily live with him, if he would allow me to pay him rent for the room I would occupy.
I had to admit, without Hank I would still be living in that slum of a hotel, wasting all my money on getting taxi’s to take me to and from the office.
I smiled back at Elle; she was so sweet and kind. She was from the UK and had moved here from Dash Records London office after her so-called fiancé cheated on her. This left her unable to commit to anyone, but rather, she made it her new sport to hook up with every act on the label that she could get close enough to.
“This band better be good, otherwise you owe me yet another trip to the spa,” I said as I chuckled.
That was two spa trips she now owed me. Elle had claimed the last two bands we went to see were going to be worth it, but I had to say, I begged to differ.
In the end we made a bet; the winner got a day at the spa, courtesy of the other.
I won… both times and if tonight’s band was just as shitty as the previous, it seemed I would be having yet another spa day added to my list.
“I promise it’s better than the previous two,” she ensured, as I stood from my seat while retrieving my hand bag and heading for the exit.
It was Friday night and we were ready to enjoy a few drinks and some good music. Most of the office had left a few hours ago but I usually stayed back to file unwanted paperwork and look over my clients’ schedules.
I might have had only a handful of artists who reported to me for their needs regarding the industry, but without those few people, I wouldn’t have had a career.
“So, are we cabbing it, or do you have some flash car I am unaware of?” I asked.
“Come on Ace, we’re drinking tonight so a taxi is in order,” Elle replied with a smirk.
I didn’t mind one bit, because in all honesty, I was happy to have someone else do the chauffeuring.
~Chapter Two~
Ace
“This is what you call good music?” I questioned, knowing all too well that Elle was into alternative rockers, and when I mean rockers, I mean men. She didn’t go for guys who weren’t in the music industry, and in saying that, she preferred her men in tight, leather pants.
“Come on, you have to agree they have a good sound?” she smiled.
They were alright, but nothing I saw was record worthy. I suspected the real reason she liked the group so much was because the lead singer was ‘eye-fucking’ her from the stage. I laughed more to myself than anyone else, because it didn’t matter how many times, I went out with her; she always ended up with a member of a band.
“Do you think he is hot?” she yelled over the loud music, the females screaming and throwing items of clothing at the band.
It made me laugh; I had always wondered
if people brought clean underwear to throw, or if they just threw the ones they were wearing? Either way it was sad, throwing away perfectly good undergarments that were most likely tossed by management afterwards; it was a complete waste of money.
“He is alright, but then again, he hasn’t been eye-fucking me all night,” I replied sarcastically.
She rolled her eyes and giggled like a school girl. She had been drinking far more than me, but then I wasn’t the biggest drinker. Alcohol seemed to turn even the nicest man into complete and utter scoundrels and make the most decent of women throw themselves at people who have no respect for them or their bodies.
“Are you going to sign them?” I queried, knowing the answer would be a big fat no. However, I wanted to hear it from her lips; she turned her focus to the lead guitarist and blew him a kiss. The guy grinned and gave her a wink before she turned her focus back to me.
Wait a minute, this wasn’t right. She was acting like a love-sick puppy.
“Elle, are you dating…?” I shrieked and leaned in closer. She now had
