William “Billie” Tucker doggedly pursued Geneva until she finally accepted that he intended to stay. They married in her hometown church because she refused to allow anything else. They had dated less than a year and were inseparable. It worked well for them because she understood him in a way that many women didn’t.
Grant vaguely remembered sleeping in the smoky rooms behind stages when he was four. He also remembered riding in tour buses occasionally, which for a six-year-old had been a dream world. He didn’t know it at the time because they all made it feel so incredibly normal.
Not once in the entire twenty odd years that Billie and Geneva were together had the color of their skin been mentioned. Except by others. They were the same, the two of them. They had deeply rooted needs to be responsible and do the right thing. They were strong in character and mind, both going on to get music degrees from a performing arts academy between gigs on the road. They were good people.
Grant can’t remember when he started calling Geneva “Mom.” It just happened. Sure, he sometimes noticed the strange looks they received, but it didn’t matter. They found it amusing. In truth, Grant had never known any other mother and she had been the best. She showed up for everything he did in school, even when no one spoke to her. If he’d been more concerned with his image, maybe he would have been embarrassed. But he wasn’t. Since his biological mom deserted him at birth, he felt incredibly lucky to have Geneva in his life. She loved him like his genetic mother didn’t. Not to mention he wouldn’t dare detract from his dad’s happiness.
His college graduation had been the culmination of a family goal that brought tears to both his parent’s eyes. Not only did he graduate, but he’d ended up in the top 5% of his class and had a job offer with a tech firm in New York. It was everything they had planned for him and, because they were a very detailed and organized family, a good plan mattered. It was the pathway to success.
Hodge had started his fledgling talent agency while Grant was in his sophomore year at college. There wasn’t a lot Grant knew at the time as his mind was on … well, partying, sex, and cramming for tests. It had taken a crisis to make him understand the importance of what Hodge wanted.
Grant remembered vividly when Hodge called to tell them that Shilo had been injured. It was a Tuesday night, two weeks after he’d walked for commencement. He was due to move to New York the following month.
The whole scenario had stuck in his head because Shilo had been exceptionally charming the weekend before. They’d gone to Hodge’s new house for a Sunday afternoon cookout, just family, and he’d carried her around on his back. He’d pretended to be a horse and she’d laughed like crazy. She was the cutest little girl. So joyful. When she’d finally worn out and taken a nap, Grant lounged in the study and listened to the family talk business. Lauren was there and her excitement at some of the new talents they’d snagged was infectious.
Theirs wasn’t just another talent agency, and they didn’t represent any performer. They had vowed to keep it small and stick to people they could trust. Ones that had the strength of character to handle fame and fortune without imploding. Ones that didn’t enslave themselves to drugs, alcohol, or any other vice that reflected poorly on the business. Grant heard them talk and felt the passion in his mom’s voice when she proudly boasted that they may someday be the most reputable agents in the business if they actually pulled it off. Shilo’s death changed everything for all of them.
Grant finished off his toast, put everything away and made himself another cup of coffee.
“I have a marketing degree. When I graduated, I worked for a while in New York. Hated the cold, loved the city. I moved back after two years and fumbled around looking for something.
“When Shilo died, Hodge was a mess. Lauren folded in on herself and spent days in the fish room staring at the fish and drinking. When she surfaced, she’d clean the house and bitch at him constantly about everything from the bad side of his business to his distance the day she died. He was out of town when it happened. He blamed her; she blamed him. I felt bad for him. Both of them really. He tried to hold it together, the business, the marriage, being a father to Josh.”
“I kind of thought there was some pretty extreme drama going on there when I spoke to Josh, you could tell.”
“Josh is fine. He’s the one who has handled this best. He threw himself into school and excelled. He should have no problem getting into med school. He’s a teacher’s dream.” Grant sipped the fresh brew, burning his tongue. He gulped it and felt the scald as it went down. “Anyway, when Hodge and Lauren couldn’t look at each other anymore, she threatened to run back home to her family and take Josh with her. Her parents live in Colorado and he wasn’t about to lose another kid. He bought the house she’s in, which is close enough that he can keep tabs on them.
“Then he offered me a job as a personal assistant. He doesn’t call it that, but I know what it is. If it were anyone else, I would never have considered it. I felt bad for Uncle Hodge. His daughter died, his wife tanked and took his son. He needed a support system. I needed a job.”
“You don’t mind doing things like this?” She pointed at Bugsy, who had slithered to the floor and sprawled himself lazily across her dining area, leaving little room to pass. His eyes were closed and his tongue drooped out. Looking at the beast, Grant had to smile.
Did he mind? Sometimes. But he knew the experience far outweighed the downside. How many people his age could say they assisted in the management of some of the top talents in the entertainment industry? Surely that would aid the job search when it became necessary.
“That’s the easy part. You should see him at the park.” Grant’s phone buzzed and he looked at the display. One of their clients. “Well, time to get to work. Thanks for the breakfast and coffee.”
He pulled Bugsy unwillingly to his feet and answered the call. Lifting the cup to salute Jenny, he let himself out of the apartment. A pile of half-folded laundry covered her sofa by the door. He smirked at the jeans skirt on top, its pocket boldly embroidered with the words “bite me.” Yeah, that’s Jenny. Looks sultry. Like someone you want to have against you at night, but tough and angry when she talks. A defense mechanism, maybe? Underneath that bite-me attitude, she was a pretty decent person. That’s what Josh liked about her. They were similar in that respect. They have issues but they have goodness too.
Grant glanced back through the email from Hodge with disdain. Quonna Lynnaid wanted to issue a press release that she was seeing an up-and-coming Rock Star named David Keith. She also wanted to rearrange her schedule to appear at his next performance.
David hadn’t weighed in on the request yet. Grant had learned enough about him in the past two weeks to know he had potential to be a big hit. He also had potential to be his own worst enemy. Too charming for his own good, combined with an addictive personality, spelled trouble. They could usually work around it, but something about David didn’t feel right, and it had nothing to do with Jenny. Although, he admitted, that didn’t help.
Grant and Hodge were meeting that morning to discuss how best to handle the new “relationship” that had developed since the party. He also knew Hodge would want to evaluate each member of David’s band and start reviewing potential replacements for at least two of them. Their drummer was offbeat periodically. It was slight and only happened a few times but it was still noticeable and detracted from the professional performances.
As much as he liked several of their clients’ personalities and enjoyed working with them, Jenny was right in her assessment that Grant didn’t fit this lifestyle. He would never have envisioned it for a career. Catering to spoiled stars of screen and music, as well as controlling their public images, was a lot less noble than he would’ve chosen. Still, it had some perks, most of them financial. Hodge was one of the best and very careful to stay away from the people that could damage his reputation and business. Human nature often ruined a lot of celebs. While Hodge was no angel himself, he was a shrewd businessman.
“What do you think of our Keith?” Hodge asked after David left the meeting. The meeting hadn’t gone as Quonna expected. David seemed pretty excited about the prospect of getting his name in the gossip mags but less enthusiastic about a potential strong link to Quonna. No surprise. He was keeping his options open.
“In what respect? Talent or overall?” Grant asked.
“Both, I guess.”
“I don’t mind answering that but, more importantly, what do
you
think? You’re the boss.”
“I think his voice is strong. It’s unusual in that raspy, sexy way women go for. He’s got a good look, friendly, charismatic. Looks like someone you want to know. There’s something else though, that I don’t really have a grasp on yet. He’s hiding something. I’m not too concerned about his relationships. That happens all the time. Quonna’s a little old for him but would certainly boost him into the big time a little faster if we linked them up. It won’t last long though. You and I both know as soon as his name starts headlining, he’ll have a string of women around if he wants to.”
“Yeah, so far I’m with you.”
“There’s something else that doesn’t quite fit.”
“Like what?” Grant asked.
“Well, he did something odd at the party,” Hodge said. He got up from the table. Thank God. They’d sat there for over an hour with David, and Grant’s ass was throbbing from being planted on hard wood for too long. Hodge walked out of the room, obviously expecting Grant to follow, and headed to the fish bowl. Inside, he flipped on the neon blue lights then went to the bar. “Too early for scotch?” He pulled the bottle and a glass from the shelf. Grant recognized that it was never too early on Hodge’s clock and shrugged.
“Sounds fine.” Grant nodded.
Hodge dug both glasses into the ice-maker to fill them, dispensing with the ice tongs on the counter. “Water?”
“Please.”
Hodge handed the glass over, taking a long sip from his. He walked to the tank, standing with his back to Grant in front of it. He admired the slow movement of the octopus for a second then spoke.
“He saw you across the room, you and Jenny. I would have thought it’d make him mad. That he’d go sailing across the room to punch you out. I guess I’ve been around too many hotheaded, territorial musicians and actors. He just watched with a shit-eatin’ grin on his face. Almost like he was glad. Then Quonna caught his eye and he focused in on her like a guided missile. The earlier grin — when he saw you two — was almost eerie. He turned on a completely different charm for Quonna. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the guy had a history that might be a problem for us.”
Grant wasn’t sure how to react. “What kind of history?”
“I don’t know, maybe the criminal kind, definitely a bit twisted.”
“Just because he didn’t care that his girlfriend was kissing someone else?”
He assumed that with the crowd, Hodge didn’t know about the incident with Jen. They’d done a background check on David as with any new client. It was prudent to know what you were getting before you sealed a contract that practically married you to a person for a few years. His background wasn’t too bad. The guy had some addiction issues but he appeared to have it under control.
Hodge turned to face him. “That was pretty wild, by the way. You and Jenny. Not like you to be into PDA. Definitely not to the point that you forget you’re in a room full of people. What the hell is going on with you two?”
“Nothing. It just … happened. Sort of an accident.”
“Fuck that. Nothing accidental about it. She would have pulled your hair out if I hadn’t called you. Scary woman — nice, but scary.”
Grant laughed. “Scary,” he repeated.
Wonder what he’d think if he knew I’d had breakfast with her twice this week … or at least coffee.
He downed the scotch and set the glass on the bar by the bottle.
“You really want to get involved in that? David’s — ”
“None of your business, H.” Grant glared briefly at Hodge. “I need to get to the bank and take care of some things. I’ll go by and check on Lauren and Josh also, then make sure the caterer’s all set for the dinner tomorrow. I won’t be back this afternoon.”
Hodge raised a glass. “No problem. See you then.”
One thing Grant hated about working with family was their constant need to interfere in a man’s private life. He refused to call the guy Uncle Hodge on the job. Had to keep it professional. That didn’t seem to keep Hodge from sticking his nose into
his
life. The man summoned him when Jenny was entrenched in the kiss. Was Hodge protecting him — or her?
Jenny reached into her closet for the black dress then shook her head. If she had a talent at all, it was the ability to read people. Grant Tucker. Not very many confused her, but he certainly did. He seemed like such a klutz, so completely messed up in every way. And so terribly angry. If she hadn’t seen him at work, she’d think him bashful and unsociable. Yet, in the glitzy atmosphere of the party, he fit. He looked like one of them. He looked drool-worthy and perfectly at ease in the party scene. She frowned as she dropped her shorts and T-shirt to the floor. She looked in the mirror at herself, clad in bra and panties. She’d lost some weight over the past few months. Her work had taken a toll. Her hips were slim and tapered to legs in a smooth litheness she’d prayed for a year ago. Her waist actually was there. The result pleased her.
Tonight she’d turn on the charm and see what happened. After all, Jenny convinced Barry to take her calls for four hours while she attended the dinner. It was a trade-off for her taking his calls on Sunday. What could possibly happen in four hours over dinner? Absolutely nothing. She removed the bra and slipped the black dress over her head. The thin straps felt cool and smooth against her skin. She pulled her hair into a loose knot at her neck, added some makeup and earrings, and then poured herself a glass of wine.
When the knock on the door came, she was ready. She only needed to slip on her heels and grab her bag. Her breathing quickened as she realized she was nervous. She opened the door and stared into dark eyes filled with surprise and, she thought, admiration.