Too Many Rock Stars: Violet's Story (Access All Areas 1)

I grabbed it off him and headed to my office.

Luckily, Chuck had opened it to the right page because it wasn't front-page news. It wasn't even in the front half of the paper but buried right at the back. A tiny story saying “local rock club is doomed”.

"Did you read it?"

"I'm reading it now but what does it matter? No one reads the papers nowadays. Definitely not the kind of people who come here. If it's not in the music papers, they don't even know it exists."

It’d be more panicked if the news had been online or even whispered rumors but not about a regular newspaper.

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Chuck sat on the arm of my office sofa.

"That's the thing, kiddo. We just need one of those kids who write that crap for the music press to pick this up. Then what's going to happen? No one wants to hang around a rotting carcass. Well, except for some maggoty flies. But everyone else stays the hell away."

"Can you stop with the rotting meat metaphors until after I've eaten? This is the only chance I'll get to have solid food today and I don't want it ruined. Anyway, the chances of it getting any further than the local news are pretty slim."

I tore open the bag and picked a nice big chunk off my muffin.

"I'm never going to get a decent price for this place if they think I'm desperate," Chuck mumbled.

"Whoa, dude, hold it right there. Did you just say what I thought you said? You’re selling this place? I thought the whole point of this was that you didn't have to sell. If you are selling, let me know so I can get my life in focus."

"I didn't mean I am selling, I mean if I have to sell. There is no guarantee this is going to work, Violet. We need to make money and something like this story in the paper is going to cost us. It makes it sound like we have pretty much closed anyway. It's not like you're helping."

I gave him the stink eye. The way he pressured me about this competition almost amounted to sexual harassment. He couldn't command me to date people even if he'd once ordered me not to.

"Seriously, Violet, it's a few hours of your time. It's not like you're a blushing virgin with some treasure between your legs you need to guard."

I took a deep breath. I needed to tell him. I couldn’t walk out every time he said that kind of shit.

"What. The. Fuck. You don't get to say shit like that to me. Even if agreed to this stupid mess, no one is getting between my legs. I won’t be pimped out. You’re crossing the line, Chuck. You are so crossing the line that you can't even see the line behind you."

"No need to get upset. I'll leave you to get on with your work."

He walked out without even apologizing. Jerk.

Mark, the overly perky barman, had said that Chuck wanted to sell. I'd wanted to believe that he was better than that but banking on Chuck not being a jerk was not a safe bet. My stomach knotted up. Even though Chuck sucked donkey's balls as a boss, he was better than nothing. And, if this place sold, it'd be to some developer who'd turn it into hipster apartments. It'd be all white and glossy. The windows that were currently painted over black would be replaced with glass that let in the sun. The walls that were pretty much held up with the layers of band stickers on them would be pulled down. That smelly carpet would be gone.

I mean, this was prime inner-city real estate. We were lucky to have survived so long.

I couldn't worry about that, though. I had actual, real stress to worry about like getting everything organized for the actual bands who played here.

"What's happening?"

Razer stood in the doorway.

"I hope this is important. That whole not interrupting me at work thing sure didn’t last long," I said. I tried to make my voice sound angry but it betrayed me. Ever since our ride on the bike, I found it harder to be angry with Razer but I didn't want him to think I was softening towards him. That'd be fatal.

"Just wanted to check in. We're rehearsing for most of the day and I won't have the phone on. Is there anything I need to do before the gig?"

"You don't need to check in with me." What a crook. He’d played here so many times, he knew the drill better than I did. It was just an excuse to bug me.

"I know but I like to."

"Okay, so now you've told me, you can run along to rehearsal." I waved him away but he kept leaning on the door frame.

"Your mouth is saying 'go', Violet, but your eyes are saying stay."