Coming into Focus, page 5
I wrested the receipt from her and signed it before I hustled her back out the door.
He uncovered plates, utterly unbothered as if women choked on their own tongues around him every day. Maybe they did.
“Sit.” He slid a bowl of oatmeal to me.
He looked over his own order—in addition to the oatmeal, there was an omelet, hash browns, three eggs over easy, three orders of bacon, a side of sausage, biscuits and gravy, and two pieces of cheesecake.
When he caught me staring, he said, “They don’t even serve cheesecake this early. I played the English card. I told them it’s tradition for my people.”
“Next time, tell them it’s tradition for both our people.”
“What is breakfast tradition for people like you?” he asked curiously. Then he brightened. “Oh! Grits. Please tell me it’s grits.”
“Grits. For every meal.”
“I knew it. With moonshine, right?”
“Obviously. Now let’s talk about this conversation we have to have with Hawk.”
His head fell back on his shoulders. “Ah, Christ, don’t remind me when I’m eating.” He set down his fork with a clatter.
“Hawk is your manager, right?”
“Right.”
I took advantage of his obvious distress and snagged a plate of cheesecake. “We need to tell him you’ve hired me?” I prompted.
He made an expression like sort of.
“Jimmy?”
“Mostly. There is just this tiny technicality. I don’t have the actual authority to hire you.”
I sighed. “This is information I’d have loved to have before I came all the way here, but okay, we’ll treat it as, what? An interview?”
“Right. Only, it’ll be the tiniest thing, but first, we better tell him the other one’s gone. I don’t expect him to be thrilled about it, either.”
“Why not? Didn’t she leave you? It’s not your fault.”
He pointed at me. “Good girl. Exactly. It’s not my fault, but let’s gloss over it anyway. He’ll rage a bit, then he’ll say he’s going to send us a new contract. We’ll sign it, you’ll send him your banking information, and there you go, all taken care of.”
“It sounds like you’ve done this before.”
He ignored me. “Let’s get it over with. When we’re done, we’ll reward ourselves with some vigorous shopping. Sound good?”
“Sounds great.”
I went back to my room to get dressed, and then we sat in front of Jimmy’s computer at the desk. After he fidgeted around nervously for a few minutes, he placed the call.
Right after he hit dial, he said quickly, “You do the talking because it’s your job as my new assistant, and it’s a great way to impress him. Go.”
When we connected, his manager was sitting in a leather chair/throne behind a giant desk, piles of paperwork visible to the side, the wall behind him covered with framed shiny records.
He barely gave us a glance. The first thing he said was, “Jesus Christ, Jimmy. Please don’t tell me you’ve gone off another assistant already. I’m a busy man, and I do not have the time to deal with personnel changes based on your love life. Where the fuck is what’s-her-name, and who is this? For once in your career, would it be possible for you to have a platonic relationship with someone you hire? So they could do the fucking job I hired them for?”
It was clear why Jimmy was more than a bit nervous. Hawk was one of the few people Jimmy couldn’t charm. He didn’t pay enough attention for it to penetrate.
Also, he was intimidating. Like, really intimidating. He was attractive in an older-guy-who’s-seen-it-all way. Smile lines fanned out from his eyes, although I couldn’t imagine how they got there because it was impossible to envision him smiling. Maybe they were rage lines, not smile lines. I’d do a super-tight close-up photograph of him if given the chance. Context wasn’t needed for Hawk. His face said everything that needed to be said, and one of the things it said was my daydream of being on the same team was only a fantasy.
He made an impatient sound. “Let’s have it. I’ve got a lot going on today.”
Jimmy gestured for me to take over.
I leaned toward the screen. “Willa Reynolds, Jimmy’s new assistant. It’s nice to meet you.”
He glowered. “Don’t get too comfortable, girl. I have no reason to hope you’ll last. Tell me what your qualifications are. Go.”
“I’m a photographer, and a lab assistant, and a barista. I’ve been a caregiver to my brother for the past several years, and I’ve nannied for twin girls.”
“Nanny and caregiver sound promising. You can take care of this one and Eric. Oliver can sort himself out. It’s a pretty major position for someone who has no experience, though, and I’m done letting this guy choose his own staff. What else you got?”
“Um… I used to work in a barbershop, so I can, uh, keep him presentable.”
“She’s great at makeup,” Jimmy chimed in. “And I’m going through a makeup phase.”
“I used to work the Clinique counter at the mall.” It was mostly old ladies—and exactly zero rock stars—but I didn’t mention that.
Hawk grimaced. “Fucking hell, you sound like such an American. It’s not doing much to build confidence, if I’m honest.”
I stopped being intimated and got annoyed. “Makes sense since I’m American. Listen. He called me in a panic less than twelve hours ago. I got here, fed him, calmed him down, and I have his schedule set for the day. I can make sure he’s where he needs to be, help him with whatever he needs, run their social media, and handle the other two when they get here. Feeling more confident yet?”
He was quiet for a moment, then said, “You’re a photographer?”
“Yes.”
“Any good?”
“Very good.”
“Fine, we’ll give it a go,” he said decisively. “Fix their Instagram account. Jesus Christ, what a mess. No more nudes. Jimmy, I’m not going to say it again. Proper promo shit.”
Jimmy leaned forward with a response, but Hawk pointed at the camera and said, “No.”
Jimmy slumped back in his chair muttering, and Hawk gave his attention back to me. “When he goes to an interview, you go with him. Stop him from saying anything stupid. Jimmy, keep your eye on her, and if she’s giving you a sign to stop talking, stop talking. We’ll see how it goes. I’m not doing this again. I’m going to make a revision to the contract. Read it. Both of you. Wendy—"
“Willa.”
“Willy,” he settled on, “I’ll email it. Get me a digitally signed copy by the end of the day.”
“Will do, Howard.”
“It’s Hawk,” he said, and maybe I was kidding myself, but I was pretty sure he nearly smiled. “Give her the band phone, Jimmy.” He leaned forward and ended the video chat.
Jimmy’s email chimed a few minutes later. I sat at the desk to read the contract.
“You don’t need to read it, darling,” he said. “Let’s just sign it. Hawk fancies himself a real business mogul, but I guarantee you all he did was copy some boilerplate bullshit off the internet.”
I scrolled in silence for a few moments. “There’s a clause in here forbidding ‘any relationship of a romantic nature between band employees and band members.’ How have you gotten around it?”
Jimmy collapsed onto the bed and put an arm across his face. “Fuck me. It was bound to occur to him eventually.”
“This is new? That must be what he meant.”
“I’m sorry, Willa.” He was staring at the ceiling and sounded morose. “I can imagine how devastated you must be, but—”
“Nah.” I was still reading. “It’s fine.”
“What?”
Belatedly, I realized I might have hurt his feelings. I swiveled my chair to face him. He was propped up on his elbows, a stunned expression on his face. I hurried into damage-control mode. “I mean, I can live with it, Jimmy. Rules are rules!”
He shook his head sadly, his brown eyes more solemn than I’d ever seen them. “No, listen. No ‘romance’ means no sex. When he says none, he means, like, ever. Of any kind.”
“Yeah. I got it. It’s cool.”
He was giving me an I’m-very-serious face. “Willa. I’m saying he’s nixing all of it. We will never, ever have any kind of sex with each other. Not even oral! Nothing at all! Look at me, and consider what you’re sacrificing.”
I paused to give the impression I was weighing my options, then I said, “You’re attractive, but—”
“Yes, this is what I’m saying, Willa. You are also attractive. We are two attractive people, and biology is science. So.”
“I just don’t have a sex vibe for you.”
His eyes went wide, and he seemed to lose the power of speech, but only momentarily. “I figured it must be a slow burn situation.” He was befuddled. “Like, a very slow burn because we’ve been together for three days already. Now you’re telling me… there’s nothing at all?”
“Not a drop.”
“So strange,” he said, a frown creasing his brow. “I’m not attracted to you either. Which is odd because I’m at least a little attracted to practically everyone.”
I shrugged. “It does happen, Jimmy. You can’t have chemistry with the whole world.”
He wasn’t convinced. I sensed that in order to win this one, I was going to have to make it his idea. “What should we do? I’m going to be good at this job, and it’s not like you have anyone else waiting in the wings.”
He sat quietly for a minute, then slapped a hand on the desk. “Got it. Let’s kiss. It’s the only way we can be sure.”
“Do we have to?”
“Yes,” he said briskly. “I do. It’s possible the attraction is… what’s the word? Latent. We have to be sure. It’s either/or, Willa. You can be my assistant, or we can be lovers, but we can’t be both. We need all the information before we decide which it’ll be. We owe it to ourselves to do our due diligence.”
I wasn’t having the same trepidation he was having. “Even if I did want to be your lover, which I don’t, I need the work, Jimmy. My choice is already made.”
“You sound very confident, but let me ask you this. Between the two of us, which one has more sexual experience?”
I rolled my eyes.
“I’m going to take your eloquent expression as an acknowledgment that I have so far surpassed you. If I’m saying I’m not sure, you should be cautious. The only thing for it is to kiss, Willa. You should never swear off having sex with someone if you haven’t even kissed them. Stitch in time, bird in the hand, all that. Are you ready?”
“Neither of those cliches work here, but okay. But fine. If we must.”
“Let’s get it settled.” He clenched and unclenched his hands. “I’m finding myself oddly resistant, so let’s hurry.”
I cocked my head. “Is this your usual approach? If you don’t want to do something, you should hurry and do it?”
He must have imagined he was being patient with me. “If cooler heads are in danger of prevailing, you should go faster. Like if you’re starting to get drunk, but you want another drink, you have to drink it fast. You have so much to learn from me. I’m kind of excited for you.”
“Oh, gosh. So am I.” But this clearly mattered to him, and I was a tiny bit curious. “I guess we can test it.”
He got to his feet. “All right, Willa. Stand.” We stood at the end of the bed, facing each other. “One two three go.”
Our lips touched.
We didn’t even close our eyes. It was… utterly uninspiring. It wasn’t revolting, but it wasn’t exciting. I didn’t want more.
He drew away with raised eyebrows. “What?” he whispered.
“It wasn’t very good, right?” It was a rhetorical question; it was clear from his expression he was as unimpressed as I was.
“But …you’re so pretty! And, to state the obvious, I’m all this. It seems like the inevitable would follow, but I do not feel you.”
“I don’t feel you either!” I said cheerfully.
“It’s odd. Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Unless the universe is telling us that even though we’re both pretty, we mean more to each other than sex. Is it possible?”
I nodded.
He rested his hands on my shoulders and put his face close to mine, and said quietly, “I mean… more than sex. I don’t think you’re letting that sink in.”
“It already sank in. Maybe we’re meant to be friends.”
“This is astonishing. Friends who are…more than sex.” Based on his expression, I honestly believed he’d never encountered anything like it. “It must be a metaphysical bond. It’s the only explanation.”
“Right. Not romantic, but close to each other differently. It does happen.”
“I assumed it was an urban legend, but I have to be honest with you. I have no desire whatsoever to have sex with you, Willa.”
“Same.”
“So odd,” he said again. “I guess on the bright side, you can sign the contract and take the job!” He shrugged, already over it. “This is going to be brand new. An assistant who I don’t sleep with. Might be fun!”
“It hasn’t ever occurred to you as an option? Because it sounds like sleeping with assistants causes you a lot of problems.”
“Sometimes I don’t even mean to, but when you’re constantly with each other, sex happens.”
I’d have to take him at his word. “Why don’t you hire men if this has been such a thing?”
He gave me a sweet smile. “Men aren’t any better at resisting me than women are. You are a complete outlier.”
“It really isn’t strange.” I went back to scanning the contract. “It happens all the time that people aren’t attracted to each other.”
“Please don’t take this as arrogance—”
“Never,” I said.
“Do you think I don’t understand sarcasm? British people have sarcasm too. We had it first.”
I continued reading. Confidentiality, blah blah blah. Housing and food covered by the band—great news.
Then it fell apart. I got to the dealbreaker. Hopefully Toby hadn’t already repurposed my room or sold any of my stuff.
“What’s wrong?” Jimmy asked.
This is what happened when I was spontaneous. Of course this wasn’t going to work out. I closed the laptop. “It says any photos I take while I work for you belong to the band.”
He got up and reached over my shoulder to open it back up. I tapped on the screen, pointing out the offending clause.
“Oh, that.” He waved a hand dismissively.
“Yeah, that. Jimmy, I told you. This is why I wanted to do this. Partly why, anyway. I need to take pictures, and I need the rights. How else can I work on my portfolio?”
“It doesn’t matter, Willa.”
“It does matter. I wanted this for the photography. I want to be more than your Girl Friday. I wanted to be working toward something for myself.”
I imagined going back home to Toby. Rushing back home from this even faster than I’d bailed on college.
It was humiliating.
It wasn’t fair.
I had Jimmy’s full attention. He held both my hands. “Sweetheart, you can take all the pictures you want! Pictures of me, the lads when they get here, anyone else we run across. I bump into loads of famous people. This is going to be great. Please stop with that heartbroken face.”
“If I don’t own the pictures, I can’t use them. I was hoping to make a body of work and maybe even sell some on a freelance basis. I can’t only have the images; I need the photo credit.”
“Don’t worry, Willa. Just sign it and send Hawk back his stupid contract. I don’t want to poke at him anymore right now because he’s in a Mood. Later, we’ll get him to ‘x’ it out, initial it, and file it. It’s not a big deal. The other thing matters to him because it’s on his radar, and it’s new. He probably doesn’t even remember this thing is in there. Trust me. I’ll handle it.”
A cautious spark of hope flickered, but I hesitated. I hadn’t known Jimmy long, but it seemed likely he wasn’t completely reliable, no matter how much it seemed like he meant what he was saying.
I had to take the gamble. I was a grown woman, and all I had to show for it was the ability to make a great cup of coffee, a legacy of taking care of a kid/man who didn’t need me anymore, and a portfolio that only existed in my mind.
Counting on Jimmy to keep his word, or even to remember he’d given it, was risky, but maybe taking some risks would be good for me.
Chapter Six
Jimmy spun around in the office chair and clapped. “We are going to be adorable in our matching robes! Willa, order these for us and have them delivered to the next hotel. They’ll hold them for us. Get them monogrammed. I’m not going to wear an unmonogrammed robe like an animal.”
I balked at the dollar amount. “Jimmy, those are…” I couldn’t even bring myself to mention the number.
“Perfect, right? I will definitely be nude under mine, so be warned. Cashmere should touch as much of your skin as possible.”
“I was going to say expensive, actually. You’re spending so much money. Should we talk about it?”
He made an impatient sound and rubbed his forehead. “Right. We’re going to have the money conversation, but this is the only time.”
I waited.
Standing to face me, he put his hands on my shoulders. “I don’t want you to talk to me anymore about money.”
I couldn’t stop myself. “The way you spend money is crazy! I mean, this hotel, for example. We could definitely spend less money on hotels.”
“Of course we could, but we certainly will not. Have you ever spent weeks on end using crunchy towels and sleeping on cheap sheets? It’s not for me. And another thing, while we’re on this distasteful topic. You have to stop trying to talk me out of ordering my food. It’s absurd.”
“I’m not telling you to starve! Just order one entrée per meal. Order a burger or the lasagna or the brisket. You don’t need three full dinners.”
