Claiming Addison (2 page)

I desperately want to roll my eyes at her deflection. “What exactly is the assignment?”

“On Thursday at 11:00 a.m., we need you on a tour bus headed for San Diego, you’ll be kicking off the start of a twelve week nationwide road tour.”

Twelve weeks, starting Thursday. The puzzle pieces start clicking into place. “For who?” I ask, despite the fact that I think I know the answer to the question, but I need confirmation.

“69 Bottles,” Cami answers.

After learning the details of my assignment, I leave her office and immediately slump back against the wall. I’m trying desperately to catch my breath before heading toward the elevator. I’m not normally one to get nervous about much of anything, but I’ll be damned, I’m ridiculously nervous about this. Sure, I’m a fan of 69 Bottles. I love their music, but I know nothing about them. Let alone much of what they look like or what has been made of their reputation. I can’t let this opportunity slip through my fingers.

After a few deep breaths, I finally manage to compose myself enough to leave the hallway. I straighten my jacket, thank god for it because I was sweating bullets in there. I walk toward the elevator, ignoring Raine. I have my bag and the new messenger bag slung over my shoulder. The envelope in my hands is pressed tight to my chest like a bulletproof vest.

My phone rings interrupting my packing. “Addison,” I answer, like always.

“Hey chica, you can save the speech. I already talked to Jess and she told me you’re bailing on us again.”

“Oh come on, Sam, I am not…”

“Don’t worry, it’s cool. I just thought that since we were so close you might actually get away with being able to take your vacation this time,” Sam says into the phone but I can tell she’s disappointed.

“Listen, I’m still waiting on final details, but my boss’s boss is arranging for you and Jess to fly down to SD and have a rental car. I will meet you guys there and we will still be able to do the concert and then you guys can head back to the beach house,” I tell her.

“Yeah, it just sucks.”

I give the phone a half smile. “On the plus side, when I’m done with this tour, I will be getting an entire month off. I will figure out how to make it up to you both.”

“Addie, come on, girl, spill the beans. Who are you going on tour with?” she says with a conspiratorial tone in her voice.

I smile, but I refused to tell Jess when I talked to her, which I know Sam knows, so why ask again? “I’m not telling. Actually, I can’t tell you, not yet anyway. Give me a couple of days and I can indirectly spill the beans.”

I can hear her childish huff and pout on the other end of the phone. “Fine.”

“Thanks, Sam. You’re the best.”

“Uh huh, I know it and damn it, Addie, you owe me. Drinks tonight?”

I look at the clock, it’s already after four and I still need to go shopping. “Actually, yeah, listen, I need a favor.”

“Anything.”

“You want a break from the roommate from hell?”

“Oh my god, yes, please.”

“Then why don’t you pack up a few things and come stay at my house while I’m gone,” I tell her.

“Addie, seriously, I can’t do that.”

“Shut up, Sam. You can too. It will give you a nice break from mega-watt-bitch and you can eat up all the groceries I just bought this weekend. Plus, it will give me peace of mind knowing that someone is watching over the house besides my housekeeper who only comes once a week.”

I know she’s rolling her eyes. Sam isn’t a broke girl by any means, but for some reason, despite all the bullshit with her roommate, she’s never moved out. I’ve met the roommate on more than a few occasions and she’s just pissed off at the world, at least from what I can tell. Despite all her bitching, Sam doesn’t do anything about it.

“Alright, I’ll do it, but I can’t promise I’ll leave when you get back,” she says.

I smile. “I’m hoping that’s the case. Meet me at the haunt, say seven?”

“You got it, see you there. Should I bring Jess?”

“Uh, sure, why not? Then tomorrow night you can start staying here.”

“When you leaving?”

“Thursday,” I tell her.

“Your house will be alright while I’m gone in San Diego, right?” she asks.

“Yeah, Maria will be here Friday. I’ll let her know that someone else is staying here so she doesn’t freak out on you and I’ll make sure the house is locked up tight for the weekend.”

“Sounds good, see you in a bit.”

“Absolutely.”

We hang up and I dive back into packing. Hoping to god that neither one of them pressure me too much about who I’m going on tour with. Then again, they both know what industry I work in and they have no clue who any of my clients are or have been. Though it will be hard to keep the 69 Bottles thing from them once we’re in San Diego, which is why I plan to indirectly tell them what’s what.

In the big bad scary envelope are two exclusive VIP badges, usable for each show. I intend to have them given to Jess and Sam when they pick their tickets up at Will Call. Their suspicions will already be high enough as it is when I don’t show up to meet them outside the theater before the show.

My phone goes off with a text.

Sam: Where r u?

I look at the time. Shit! It’s already seven. CRAP!

Me to Sam: I’m running out the door now. C U in a few.

Sam: Hurry up woman!

Okay, okay, I get the hint. I grab my purse and bolt for the door. Crap, I didn’t want to be late, where the hell has today gone? God, I hope tomorrow isn’t like this or I’m screwed.

Despite the monumental amount of alcohol we consumed last night and that I hardly slept, I feel great this morning. Maybe that’s why I feel great? Still drunk. When I did finally manage to pass out, it was nearly four and I didn’t wake again until after eleven.

Which means I have been running around nonstop since noon, and I am finally ready to go. Suitcases are packed, laptop, iPad and new work cell phone are on the charger. Calls from personal phone forwarded to work phone, though I am still taking it with me since I don’t have time to transfer my contacts. My personal phone is partially paid for by Bold, one of the perks I guess, but some months that stipend is hardly enough to cover the actual work related use. Being a PR Rep means I am on call 24/7, 365 days a year. I’ve actually only been awoken in the middle of the night once, but I have had more than a few weekend calls. For the most part, between 7 in the morning and 10 at night, I’m fair game. All of my clients and their ‘staff’ are given explicit instructions about what constitutes an after 10 or weekend emergency. Though I guess, going on tour puts me at their beck and call all day every day.

Sam is on her way over with Chinese takeout, and I have two bottles of wine ready to rock. We chatted a lot last night at the bar and Jess did a great job of making me feel guilty about ditching the vacation plans. But once I told her this is a major career boost for me, she dropped the guilt trip. Miraculously, it only took me one time of reminding them that I can’t discuss my job with them and they let it go after a promise that at some point they will figure out what the hell is going on.

“Addie,” I hear Sam call from the front door.

“In the kitchen,” I holler back.

“Girl, you need some help with that?” I ask her as she lugs her suitcase up the steps.

“Nope,” I hear her grunt followed by her suitcase falling on my hardwood floors. I come around the corner of the kitchen and she is standing at the top of the steps, huffing.

“You’re so full of shit. We could’ve gone down for your stuff, you know?”

“Nope, I got it.” She gives me a wink.

“Is that all?”

She looks down at her suitcase dubiously then back at me. “Uh yeah, why?”

“You’re staying here for twelve weeks, remember?”

She rolls her eyes. “This is mainly for this weekend. I told bitchface that I’d be back on Sunday. I haven’t told her that I am disappearing for three months. Besides, my apartment is ten minutes away from here. Not like I’m leaving town for twelve weeks like some people.” She sticks her tongue out at me.

I laugh and shake my head at her. “You do realize that while I’m gone, you’re more than welcome to move all your stuff in here.”

She looks around the apartment dramatically. “Like I can afford this place.”

I shake my head and roll my eyes. “Wine? Then we can discuss your moving in.”

“Yes, please.” She grabs the two bags of takeout that I can smell all the way over here. It smells really good. Reminding me I haven’t eaten much today.

Once we’re in the kitchen, I grab plates and pour the wine into two very large goblets. Hmm, maybe I should’ve bought a couple more bottles. That one bottle fit into two glasses. “Trying to get you drunk,” I say sliding the glass to her.

“That will definitely do it, though with Chinese food, you never know.”

I hold up my glass. “Cheers.” We clink and dive into divvying up the food. “So is Jess pissed you’re staying here?” I ask her as we both reach for the egg rolls. I hold my hand out for her to go ahead.

She shrugs and takes a bite of her egg roll. “I don’t really care if she is or not. She’s got her own place, no reason for her to stay here.”

“Well, you have your own place too,” I remind her.

“Yes, but it is occupied by bitchface.”

I roll my eyes again. At this rate my eyes are likely to freeze looking at the back of my head. “So if it’s so bad living with her, why haven’t you moved out already?”

She gives me a half smile. “I feel bad because I know she couldn’t afford it on her own. I think half of the time she’s just pissed off because her grandiose plans fail. Either that or her latest fuck toy screwed her over. Ultimately, I just think she’s a really angry, jealous person. Hence why I didn’t tell her I was staying here. She’d get all whiny and I’d rather fill her head with bullshit, like having a new boyfriend and I’m spending all my time with him.”

“What would happen if you moved out?”

She shrugs. “No clue. The lease is up in two months and lately she’s been prattling on about moving back to Michigan or wherever it is that she’s from. Says that this acting bullshit is exactly that, bullshit.”

I snort. “Is she any good?” I ask honestly, not that I’d do anything about it. Sam looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “That bad?”

She nods. “Something like that. Not to mention the fact that she keeps asking me to talk to you and hook her up. She thinks that if she can get an agent, she’ll have better luck. But she can’t get an agent because she either sucks or she’s a bitch to them. She has an entitlement complex, thinks she’s entitled to whatever she wants.”

I scowl at Sam, “Entitled? Ha! Hardly. You don’t just get handed acting jobs or celebrity, you have to work your ass off for them. She wants you to talk to me. You’re kidding, right?” She shakes her head. “Okay, first of all, I don’t do actors, so I haven’t a clue what they even look for. Second of all, if she really sucks, it comes back on me and she’ll turn around and blame you. Lastly, as much as I hate to admit it, Hollywood thrives on good looks and she…”

Sam cuts me off with a fit of laughter. “Oh my god, you have no idea. I heard her mumbling something about getting into porn, just to make ends meet…”

I interrupt her with my own laughter. “Tell me you’re joking. The porn industry rejected her?”

We both break down into a full on giggle fest that lasts us more than a few minutes and a couple of stomach cramps. Don’t get me wrong, bitchface, as we lovingly call her, isn’t all that ugly. But she isn’t attractive either. She has a very plain Jane style and she gives off the wrong vibe. Her name is Liz, and we really shouldn’t make fun of her, but if you knew half of the shit she’s done, you’d agree with us.

After a long night chatting with Sam, I settle into bed with my thoughts roaming around 69 Bottles and the tour. Though the tour lasts for twelve weeks, there are a lot of open dates between shows. For the most part, the shows are all on Wednesdays through Sundays with travel days being Mondays and Tuesdays. The travel time is minor considering how many cities the tour is stopping in. Top that off with the fact that all 30 of the 32 shows that have gone on sale, sold out in less than fifteen minutes. Whoever put this together did it right. I wouldn’t have put so many cities, like Oklahoma City, Kansas City, Des Moines, Minneapolis and Chicago, so close together date wise. Each city is within reasonable driving distance, I might have just expanded to multiple shows in Des Moines and drew in people from Minnesota, Illinois and Missouri.