Lead (Stage Dive 3)

David Ferris looked from Mal to me and back again, his forehead creasing. “You serious?”

“A hundred and ten percent.”

“You heard her, she’s a secretary.” The elder Ferris brother, Jimmy, didn’t even look up from the papers. His voice was smooth, deep, yet deeply disinterested. “She’s got no qualifications.”

Mal snorted. “Because all the ones with the fancy degrees have done such a f**king bang-up job. How many have you fired or run off now? Time to come at the problem from a new perspective, dude. Open your mind to the wonder that is Miss Lena Morrissey.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, mystified.

“Guys, guys.” The asshat, Adrian, started flapping his hands about in a panic. “You can’t be serious. Let’s stop and think about this.”

“Give us a minute, Adrian,” said David. “He isn’t easy to live with. Think she can handle it?”

Jimmy snorted.

“Yeah, I do,” said Mal, bouncing on the balls of his feet all excited like. He put up his dukes, as if for fighting. “Show me what you got, Lena. Knock me out. Come on, champ. You can do it. Put me against the ropes!”

What a nutter. I swatted his teasing fist away from my face. “Mr. Ericson, you have approximately five seconds to start making sense or I’m out of here.”

David Ferris gave me a small smile. Of approval, perhaps? I don’t know and it didn’t matter. This circus had gone on long enough. I had explanations to go make to the temp agency. Given this wasn’t the first time I’d butted heads with a jerk at a job, my hopes for forgiveness were low. I might have been asked to moderate my attitude a time or two. But really, life was too short to take shit. Let people walk all over you and you got what you deserved. I’d learned that the hard way.

Shoulders slumping in disappointment, Mal sighed. “Okay, okay. Don’t play with me. See if I care.”

He and David shared a look. Then David nudged his brother with an elbow. “Might be worth thinking about.”

“She gives Adrian shit and suddenly she’s the one?” asked Jimmy. “Seriously?”

“Mal’s right, she’s different.”

Adrian made a small sound of despair. Petty or not, my heart thrilled to hear it. Perhaps today wasn’t a complete write-off after all.

“Tell me, Lena,” said Mal, his grin splitting his face. “How do you feel about Portland?”

“Doesn’t it rain there constantly?” I asked. In all honesty, the idea of heading quite that far up into the Pacific North West did not appeal.

Mal groaned. “I know, lovely Lena, I know. Trust me, I’ve tried to get them to move back to LA, but they won’t budge. Portland’s where the Ferris bros be hanging these days. Even Benny boy’s settled in up there.”

Ben, the bass player, opened one eye and gave us both a tired look. Then he closed it and went back to sleep.

“C’mon, Jimbo,” said Mal, bouncing about on the spot again. “Help me convince her Portland doesn’t completely suck ass.”

Finally, at long last, Jimmy sighed and looked up at me.

What Mal couldn’t do to me, this one did with ease. Everything paused, apart from my pulse, beating loud behind my ears. The man was beautiful in much the same way as the stars. I could only look upon him with longing, he was so far out of my reach. Still, moments like these are meant to be momentous. Fate shifting beneath your feet should feel big. But instead of mood lighting and dramatic music, I got a cranky cold blue stare from a guy in a razor sharp suit. Dark hair fell over his face and collar, framing the cheekbones of an angel but the jaw of a stubborn child. Every other discernible inch of him appeared to be fully grown male. The way he held his jaw, however … well.

And the man might be pretty, but he sure as hell wasn’t nice. I’d met enough not-nice men to know. Trust me to find him attractive.

So I frowned straight back at him.

His glare went up a notch.

I matched it.

“Why, you two are getting along like a house on fire already! It’s like you’ve known each other for years. I think she’ll make you a wonderful live-in assistant,” said Mal. “Tell him, Lena.”

“A live-in assistant?” I parroted, clueless.

“Since when did I need an assistant?” Jimmy looked me over from top to toe, lips tight with obvious disapproval.

“Since you can’t seem to keep a sobriety companion.” His brother returned calmly, a little coldly even. “But it’s your call. If you don’t want to give her a go, the record company’ll find you another companion. Someone suitable.”

Jimmy cringed and the broad shoulders filling his suit curved inward. I almost felt bad for him. The guy might not have the sunniest of dispositions, but it wouldn’t hurt his brother to show a little support. Siblings. What could you do?

“They gotta luck out and get someone you can stand being around eventually, right?” asked David. “You’re doing great, but we can’t afford for you to get off track now.”

“I’m not going to get off track.”

“We go on the road soon and your routine’ll be shot to shit. Sort of situation where you could fall back into old habits easily. You heard what that latest therapist said.”

“All right, Dave. All right. Christ.” Despite his brother talking, Jimmy’s ice-cold gaze never left me.

I stared back, unperturbed. It wasn’t my style to back down from a challenge.

“I’ll hire her,” he said.

I laughed. “Um, Mr. Ferris, I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

“But there are conditions,” Jimmy continued.

Beside me, Mal thrust his fists in the air, making muted crowd-type noises. My comment seemed to have been overlooked entirely.

“I don’t want you getting in my face all the time,” said Jimmy, staring me down.

“One moment, please. So, you’re offering me a job as your live-in assistant?” I asked, just to be sure.

“No, I’m offering you a trial period as my live-in assistant. Let’s say a month … if you last that long.”

I could make it a month with him. Probably. The money would need to be good, however. “What does the position involve and what does it pay?”

“It involves you not getting in my face and it pays double what you make here.”

“Double?” My brows crept skyward.