Chapter Nine

 

Jimmy drank all night, ignoring my whispered suggestions and throat-slashing cut-off motions. Their album had cracked the top ten in the US, and he wanted to celebrate with champagne. And whiskey. Then more champagne. Then some shots of something blue. We’d been at the bar with some fans and several reporters.

Attention brings out the absolute best in him—he was charming, adorable, and beyond drunk. “Another round, everyone! Let’s drink to me!”

He dropped into bed the minute we were back in our room. I got him out of his shoes and jeans, maneuvered him under the blankets, turned off the lights, and prepared myself for bed. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, combed my hair, put on my favorite pajamas, and tiptoed back into the room.

Jimmy flipped the light on. “Let’s go back out! I want one more drink.” He was already headed for the door in a T-shirt, boxers, and socks.

“No sir. Back to bed.”

He blinked at me. “What? No. Why? I want to go back out. You made us leave so early. There’s more partying to be done and drinks to be had.”

“To start with, the bar is closed. Secondly, you’re already drunk. Also, you’re not wearing pants.”

“Trousers! And neither are you.”

“True. Back to bed, Jimmy.”

“Willlllllllllaaaaaaa. I can’t sleep. Let’s go back out.”

“If you get into bed, I’ll tell you a story.” I hoped I’d be able to lull him to sleep, but I also wanted to make sure he didn’t drunkenly sneak out.

“I will, but it’s under protest,” he said. “Under hardcore protest. Let’s get in your bed. Mine smells like cigarettes. Disgusting.”

I didn’t bother to say it was Jimmy himself who smelled like cigarettes. I fluffed the pillows and tipped him into the bed, then went around the other side and climbed in next to him.

He burrowed under the covers with a lot of sighing and then sat up again. “Socks, Willa! My socks are on!”

“Take them off then, Jimmy.”

“Can’t reach.”

Planning to insist on a raise in the morning, I burrowed under the covers and took his socks off.

He frowned at me when I came back up. “Tell me a story or take me back to the bar where I belong,” he demanded.

“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful, beautiful, patient princess and an obnoxious boy.”

Jimmy snuggled in. “Was he a prince?”

“Nope. Just a selfish boy. Talented, lovely, and selfish.”

“Did he have good hair?”

“He had glorious hair,” I said, intentionally making my voice soothing and quiet. “It was the envy of the whole kingdom. Which was entirely due to the princess because she made sure he had a proper hair-care protocol, and she styled it beautifully every single day, and it was allowed to shine in all its glory.”

“What happened next?”

“One night, the boy got extremely drunk. The princess warned him he should have stopped after the third round of shots, but he carried on far into the night.”

He was starting to sound sleepy when he said, “He sounds fun. Maybe the princess is a party pooper. Did she ever consider that?”

“She’s definitely not; she only wanted to help a friend make good decisions. Eventually, even the boy was forced to admit she was talking sense, and he was being ridiculous. He was sweetly silent, and went right to sleep, and they lived happily ever after, but first, the princess got a raise.”

He laughed quietly. “You’re a bad storyteller. Someday I’ll write you a song and show you how to do it properly.”

“Sounds great, but for right now, let’s play the quiet game. Next one to talk loses.”

“A trick from your nanny days? Did it ever actually work?”

I didn’t answer.

“Ugh! I lost, right, Willa?”

“Yes, Jimmy.”

“Ha! Now you lost. Shit! Now I lost.”

“Good night,” I whispered.

“Night. Motherfucker! I lost again.”

I was smiling when I fell asleep.

Hours later, I woke to the familiar warmth of Jimmy nestled behind me.

I nestled into my delicious-smelling, warm, smooth pillow. I sighed happily. Best pillow ever.

“I can’t get comfortable,” Jimmy complained. “Scooch over.”

“Me?” my pillow asked. “Or whoever this is?” The delicious voice rumbled under my ear.

“Oliver! When did you get here?” Jimmy’s voice was gleeful.

“Couple hours ago.”

“Is Eric here?”

“Not yet,” our new companion said. “He came in on a later flight. He’ll be here by morning.”

“I’ve missed you, and we’re top ten! But also, I’m drunk as shit.”

“Missed you too, mate. Who’s this girl?”

“It’s Willa!” Jimmy said.

“Of course.” Pause. “Hello, Willa. Nice to finally meet you in the flesh.”

“My name is Willoughby, actually,” I said.

It was a strange thing to say, given the circumstances. Really, it was a miracle I could speak at all.

I wanted to finally get a glimpse of him, but no matter how my eyes strained, there wasn’t enough light.

“Willoughby!” Jimmy exclaimed. “You never told me!” He nudged me with his knees. “What other things are you hiding, Willoughby? Apart from your name?”

“I’m not hiding it. Hawk knows.”

“Oh great! Now you’re telling Hawk personal things you haven’t even told me?” He half-rose and spoke over me. “Be careful, Oliver. She’s a woman. Don’t call her a girl; she hates it. She’s a raging feminist.”

“I am not. You’re parroting the patriarchal agenda you grew up immersed in because you’re so intellectually lazy. You don’t even realize how ridiculous you are.”

“Whatever, Elizabeth Cady Stanton.”

“Nice one.” I was impressed.

“Right? I’m drunk, even. I had it right at the front of my brain anyway.”

“How about if we go back to sleep?” the voice under me suggested. “We can battle the patriarchal agenda in the morning.”

“I’ll get off you,” I said to Oliver.

Jimmy sighed dramatically. “It doesn’t have to be so complicated. Everyone turn toward the window. Willa, you be middle spoon.” We shuffled around, then Jimmy said, “Perfect! All tucked in. No, your feet are freezing; put them on him, not me. I’m glad I’m not alone anymore and don’t have to carry this entire load by myself. She’s cute but high maintenance. You’ll see.”

“Sorry,” I whispered to the back in front of me. “I didn’t realize… I was sleeping.”

“I know. You’re fine.”

“How did you get in here?” I asked him.

“They gave me a card at the front desk.”

“They just gave you one?”

“I’m famous. They recognized me.”

Even his whisper sounded deep. Being together in the dark, our voices hushed and close, bordered on intimate.

“We have two beds. The other one is empty,” I said.

“Jimmy likes to sleep by the door, so I guessed this one would be open.”

“Yeah, but he and are I in this one.”

“Yes. Here you both are.” He was complacent about the whole thing. They probably did this kind of thing a lot, to be fair.

“It’s pretty crowded,” I said. I couldn’t figure out what to do with my arms. I settled for tucking them against my chest. Not comfortable, but less weird than any of the other options.

“Three is a lot,” he said around a yawn. “You’re quite talkative for the middle of the night.”

“Only when I wake up on a stranger. The other bed is empty is what I’m getting at.”

“Is it? I can’t be sure. Sometimes, a bed you assume is empty ends up having a chatty woman with a funny accent in it. I’ll stay right here. You can trust me, Willoughby.”

“You can call me Willa. Everyone calls me Willa.”

Jimmy sighed heavily. “Fuck’s sake. My head is going to split open. You can become properly acquainted in the morning. Right now, you must go to sleep.”

I half turned. “Do you need me to get you some—”

“All I need you to get me is some not-talking.”

It was worth mentioning, so I said, “I did tell you to stop drinking last night.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t get me to stop because you are the worst assistant in the world.”

“Should I move to the empty bed?” I asked hopefully.

“No,” they both said.

“Should I?” my new friend asked.

“Absolutely. It smells like cigarettes, but—”

“Oh no. Dealbreaker. I hate cigarettes.”

Jimmy sighed again. “Let’s play the quiet game, guys. Next one to talk loses.”

Oliver’s chest rumbled with a laugh.

~ * ~

The next time I woke, Jimmy was eating breakfast, the lights were on, and there was another man in the room. He was leaning over the bed, studying me.

I was back on top of Oliver. I was resting my face on his chest, with both hands resting on him. One on his chest and one on his nice, hard stomach. “She’s fine,” he was saying. “She’ll wake up eventually.”

I wasn’t ready for it. I kept my eyes closed.

“She won’t.” Jimmy was cheerful. “This one will sleep forever if you let her. She once slept for three days straight through,” he lied. “I was sure she was dead. I nearly called a coroner.”

“She peeked at me!” said the new guy. Process of elimination told me it was Eric.

“Oatmeal time, Willa!” Jimmy sang. “It’s getting cold! Boys, I got us all oatmeal along with some pancakes and sausage and bacon and cheesecake. And hash browns, waffles, biscuits, and honey.”

“Jimmy,” I grumbled, not willing to come fully awake. “I’m not eating oatmeal unless you are. If one of us needs to monitor his cholesterol, it’s not me.”

“All right. We’ll order oatmeal again tomorrow. One of these mornings, we’re bound to make a good decision.”

I still sensed someone’s stare. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes.

“There she is!” Eric turned to Jimmy. “Is she even old enough? Do Americans age differently? You found her in Nashville? Are we going to get in trouble for kidnapping or something? Does she talk like a cowgirl?”

What was with these British boys and their preoccupation with cowgirls? “He didn’t find me; I found him, and I don’t talk like a cowgirl.”

Eric wasn’t as gorgeous as Jimmy because few people are, but he was close. He had light brown hair, short on the sides and an artful tangle on top. Bright green eyes and gorgeous bone structure. His cheekbones were high, his jaw was square, and he had a dimple in his chin. Unlike Jimmy, even at the height of his efforts, Eric had perfect beard scruff.

He tilted his head. “You kinda do. I’m just being honest. Not trying to be racist.”

“You sound a bit like Mary Poppins,” I said. “Not trying to be racist.”

He laughed. “She’s a sassy cowgirl, Jimmy! Good find.”

Jimmy poured himself some coffee. “Her freckles make her look younger than she is.”

Oliver’s voice rumbled under me. “Do you have freckles? I love freckles.”

“You’re going to have to get up, darlings,” Jimmy said to those of us in bed. “We have loads to do. You can’t sprawl on my band all day, Willa.”

I sat up and stretched, then peeked over my shoulder.

I liked the physical reality of Oliver.

A lot.

His dark hair was thick and wavy, and his eyes were a deep, dark brown. His bottom lip was slightly fuller than his top lip. I tried not to imagine what it would be like to bite it. His left arm was covered in a full tattoo sleeve, which went over his shoulder and partway down his chest. I promised myself I could study his tattoos more later if I could stop gawking at him now.

He didn’t seem to mind. He was looking at me, too. “You’re different than I expected,” he said.

I couldn’t read his expression. Different good? Or different bad? Or different who-cares-she’s-just-the-assistant? “Don’t tell me,” I said. “You were expecting a cowboy hat.”

When he smiled, his eyes scrunched up, and there was flash of dimples.

He could have looked like a troll—with that voice, I was already in trouble. But he did not look like a troll, and it was game over for me. I didn’t stand a chance.

“I wouldn’t have been surprised to see a cowboy hat,” he said.

“She doesn’t even own one,” Jimmy said disgustedly. “Or boots! She’s very half-assed at being a cowgirl.”

I crawled out of bed, sneaking another peek at Oliver’s abs on my way out. “Please tell me there’s coffee left, Jimmy.”

Oliver made it to the table in a couple strides. I stopped in my tracks. The tattoo sleeve went partway down his shoulder. His back was strong, his legs were long, and his ass was amazing.

I obviously needed coffee to clear my mind so I could stop leering at a man who was technically one of my bosses.

“I need the coffee,” Oliver said.

Jimmy held the coffee away from him. “Believe me, we’ll be sorry if she doesn’t have coffee. She is mean when the caffeine withdrawals start.”

I took the mug he poured me, then went to the phone to order more coffee.

When I turned back around, he screamed. “Willa! What are you wearing?”

I smiled at him. “My pajamas.”

“I bought you tons of cute pajamas. Why are you wearing this ratty old thing?” He held out his hand, palm up. “Let me have it right now,” he insisted. “This garment is not getting on the bus with us. I’ve told you! I cannot be exposed to polyester. It gives me hives. I refuse it, Willa. Never again.”

“It’s not that bad,” Oliver said.

“Don’t defend her,” Jimmy said. “She does it intentionally to upset me. I’m docking your pay, Willa. I’m fining you. Every time you wear synthetic fiber, I’m fining you two hundred pounds.”

“All right. Call Hawk and tell him to take money from my paycheck because you don’t like my nightgown. He won’t do it because he loves me. Are you going to finish the biscuits?”

“Eat whatever you want,” he said. “You’ve put me right off my food. And you’re deluding yourself. Just because Hawk finds you less distasteful than he finds the rest of us does not mean he ‘loves’ you.”

He was right—I was bluffing. I actually had no idea what Hawk thought of me. I was so intimidated by him that we’d never had a real conversation, and the fact he could never remember my name didn’t feel like a particularly good sign.

“Aw, Jimmy,” I said, “Don’t be mad.” I stood behind him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

“I will not hug someone who is intentionally cruel. You’re aging me by even touching me with that appalling thing.”

I kissed the top of his head then released him and sat in the chair across from him. “If you hadn’t been drunk, you could have stopped this in progress. It’s your punishment. It’s aversion therapy.”

“It’s tremendous overkill,” he said. “Ridiculous behavior.” He paused. “It’ll probably work. Will you agree never to wear it again unless I’m as drunk as I was last night?”

“Deal,” I said. “If I agree not to wear this again, will you wear whatever pajamas I pick for you? Even if they have unicorns on them?”

“Deal,” he agreed. “But don’t think because you won, I don’t realize how manipulative you are. Because I do realize it.”

“Got it. If you want the first shower, you should get in there now. I’ll pack your stuff and make you a day sheet. Oh! Three day sheets, now. Coming right up.”

When the door closed behind Jimmy, Oliver and Eric stood in front of me.

They loomed over me. Feeling at a height disadvantage, I got to my feet.

I was still at a height disadvantage. I crossed my arms across my chest and briefly regretted my nightwear choice. It wasn’t easy to be authoritative in a nightie.

Eric was probably only around six inches taller than me. Oliver had close to a foot on me. He was only wearing black boxer briefs, and he seemed much more comfortable with that than I was.

Eric launched into it. “Listen. This thing you’re doing with Jimmy—”

I figured my best bet was to come out swinging. “This thing? You mean this job he hired me to do? Which I’m doing per my contract? That ‘thing’?”

Eric looked at Oliver, who shook his head and said, “Listen, you might have pulled it over on Jimmy, but—”

I scoffed. “I didn’t pull anything over on Jimmy. He begged me to come save him. Getting away from home suited me, so I agreed. I figure if I can handle him, I can handle you guys.” I shrugged. “I’m not off to a good start with you two like I was with him, so maybe not.”

Eric gave me a big smile. “I like her, Oliver. She’s not impressed by him at all.”

“I don’t think she’s particularly impressed by any of us,” Oliver murmured. To me, he said, “You’re a bit self-righteous for someone who was sleeping in his bed.”

“Code word there is sleeping, champ,” I said. “I practically sat on him to keep him from going back to the bar, and then we fell asleep.”

“That’s how it is?” he asked.

“It’s none of your business, but yes. That’s how it is.”

Eric leaned forward. “We’re doing bad-cop-bad-cop,” he whispered. “Hang in there.” To Oliver, he said, “Listen, mate. Maybe Jimmy found a mythical creature—someone who doesn’t want to sleep with him. This is a massive win.”

Oliver almost pulled off the intimidation routine, with his stiff posture and clenched jaw, but the sparkle in his eyes gave him away. “We’re bullying you so if you’re bad for Jimmy, we can get rid of you now.”

“I don’t think she is,” Eric said to him.

“I don’t think she is either,” Oliver said, without taking his eyes off me. “Are you, Willa?”

“Am I intimidated? Or bad for Jimmy?”

“Either,” Eric said.

“Neither. You’re not intimidating, and I’m not bad for Jimmy.” Even as I said it, I questioned if it was entirely true.

Eventually, I was going to have to leave, like however many assistants before me. The reason he refused to consider it was because it caused him pain.

“I like this job, I like him, and I need the money.” I paused. “Whether or not I like you guys remains to be seen.”

They were silent, and then both laughed.

The tension was broken, and it was okay.

For now.

Oliver extended a hand, and we shook on it. Eric gave me a hug. When he released me, he put his hands on my shoulders. “Willa. Listen. Can we talk about eyeliner? Because Jimmy says you put eyeliner on him, and you should also do it for me.”

“I will,” I said.

“Tell me this. How did you win Hawk over? Because I’ve worked with him for years, and I haven’t managed it.”

Jimmy came out of the bathroom with one towel wrapped around his waist, one around his neck, one turbaned around his head, and he was using one to dry his face. “Willa loves Hawk,” he said, joining right in. “She reckons he looks like a sexy pirate. You want to walk his plank, right, Willa? I can tell by the face she makes when we talk about him. Hey, where’s the leave-in conditioner? I can’t find it.” He rustled through my suitcase. He paused and noted the way we were facing off. “Oh. They’ve done bad-cop-bad-cop already, eh? I already told you guys; Willa is different. That will never work on her.”

“Did you use every single clean towel?” I asked. “Again?”

He reluctantly unwound the towel wrapped around his hair and tossed it to me.

“Does anyone mind if I take the next shower?” I asked.

Oliver gestured me toward the bathroom.

I heard Jimmy’s start talking as I closed the bathroom door behind me. “So, what’s the verdict? How did she do? Not that I even care because I’ve made my decision, and it’s done.”

I turned the water on right away, hoping to drown out their conversation. I needed a break from Oliver’s voice to regain my equilibrium.

I probably should have done my research on him before he got here so I could have braced for the impact. I must have seen him on television or in a magazine or something before, but it hadn’t registered. Pretty rock stars are easy to ignore until you find yourself on top of them. I’d have to shield against his power, that’s all. I could do it. Starting right now. I didn’t need more distractions, and I didn’t need more ties. It was going to be hard enough to leave Jimmy without getting more embedded.

Also, I was Willa Reynolds. I wasn’t the type of woman who made a habit of almost-threesomes in spite of my recent behavior. Head in the game, I told myself. Eyes on the prize. I didn’t want to leave here with nothing to show for it but a laundry list of things I’d done for Jimmy—like his laundry.

The problem was that my “prize” of a growing portfolio was useless if it was filled with things I didn’t own. I needed a way to motivate him to get my contract fixed. It was my best hope.