“And, that’s why we hire a professional driver and a luxury tour bus,” I winked at her. “Back when we were still indie, though, we would drive ourselves from one gig to the next in a van all day and then played shows that night. Some weeks, we had a show every single night. It was exhausting and a pain in the ass.
“A driver is well worth whatever they cost so we can focus on music and resting up for each show. Trust me, the last thing you want to do is have to concentrate on the road when you've been up half the night drinking after playing a hard show and having only had three hours of sleep—every night for a week. Looking back, it was pretty stupid, but we were young.”
Nalia nodded thoughtfully. “I can see how that might not have been the best of situations,” she said with a grin, taking another sip of wine. “But, bright side, you’ve learned a few lessons since then. Like, hire a driver and a few beds on wheels.”
I laughed, “And, an assistant who just might keep us halfway in line.”
“Oh...I have a whip, and I’m not afraid to use it,” she announced. Then her face turned a little red. “Wait. That did not come out the way I meant it.”
“Are you sure?” I joked. “Because I might be a little disappointed if you don’t have a whip.”
She tossed a piece of vegetable at me from across the counter and smiled that breathtaking smile of hers. I was rather glad that I had the counter to hide behind because everything about her was getting to me. The kitchen was heating up, and it had more to do with her than the heat from the stove.
I finished cooking, and we sat at the island on barstools, eating our dinner and discussing the upcoming week.
“Tomorrow and Thursday, we can plan to get together and go over all the details I have down on paper so you can start wrapping up the final schedule, get all of the accommodations together, and start working on the radio promotions and PR appearances for the tour.”
“That sounds great. I can’t wait to get started,” she smiled at me over her nearly empty glass of wine. I poured each of us a refill, starting to feel it just a little.
I watched her, overwhelmed by how beautiful and genuine she was. Not to mention how perfect she was going to be for the tour. This woman was the total package. She came across as being very level-headed and completely together. I had total confidence that she would really have everything under complete control. I was excited to get to work side-by-side with her over the next four months, prepping for the tour then going on the road with her. But I wasn’t looking forward to having to keep my promise to the band. The more I looked at her and the better I got to know her, the more difficult the idea of keeping that pact began to seem. Still, she was on board now, and I would just have to keep it together for four months. Then it was fair game.
Nalia looked up and caught me watching her. I just didn’t manage to look away fast enough. She tried to hide a smile by taking another sip of wine. I had a feeling she was feeling a little buzzed as well. Her eyes glistened brightly as she studied me, taking another bite of food.
“This salmon came out delicious,” she praised my culinary skills after she dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “Do you plan on cooking while we’re on the tour bus? Because I’m definitely in if you are.”
“I thought you said you were already in,” I teased.
“I am, but if the food is going to be this good? That’s a huge perk.”
I laughed. For her, I’d gladly cook. Unfortunately, on tour buses, there was usually extremely limited space in the kitchen. Because of this, there was usually a lot of eating at restaurants and fast food joints.
We finished up dinner and the first bottle of wine, so I took out another bottle, pouring us each another glass. I liked having Nalia there, and if I hadn’t been looking forward to the tour before, I certainly was now. We talked more about random things. She told me about her older brother, as well as her best friend Grace, whom I knew of from seeing commercials for the soap opera. We headed back upstairs to the balcony off the lounge and took our wine glasses with us.
“Oh!” Nalia let out a cute little squeak as she tripped in her heels. I caught her around the waist and helped her steady herself. I was guessing she was more than feeling the wine.
I held my arm out to help her as I led her to the edge of the balcony where there was an ideal view of the sun as it set. Everything was perfect out—the weather, the atmosphere, the temperature, the scenery, and the buzzing chemistry between us. She let out a little sigh and without realizing it, leaned against me a little for balance.
“It’s so beautiful.”
Having her so close and so comfortable there with me was more than enough to lower my defenses. I leaned in, my hand still on her hip, and whispered in her ear, “You’re beautiful, Nalia.” I let my lips brush against her neck. Everything logical in me knew what I wanted was a bad idea, but logic didn’t seem to be enough at that moment to stop the words from spilling out. “Stay the night with me?” To hell with the pact.
She gasped and pulled away, the look on her face a bit more surprised than I’d expected.
I bit my lip. Had I misread things?
“You’re my boss,” she stated in a rather matter-of-fact tone. Her expression was hesitant, but she didn’t come across as repulsed by the idea.
“And?” I responded, figuring the worst she would say was no.
Chapter Fourteen
Nalia
I had no idea how to respond. Owen watched me intently, waiting in suspense for my reply, his breathing heavy enough that I noticed. Both of us had definitely had a considerable amount of wine, and as soon as I’d felt his lips brush against my skin, I’d felt an absolutely overwhelming desire to turn and press my lips to his. Hell, from the moment I’d laid eyes on him yesterday I’d wanted to.
Still, he was my boss…and as much as I hated to think of what my brother said about him possibly being true, in that moment, I
realized there was definitely a chance Owen might be a player. But the way he was standing there, eyes focused on me, the warmth of his hands burning through the material of my skirt, well, there was no way I could deny that everything about him made me wet. This man was beautiful and sexy as hell, and I’d had a lot of wine. My mind was trying to argue, but the rest of me was screaming, “Fuck it. Just go for it!”