Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
“I better get back to it,” he says finally, giving me a chin tip. “See you later, Jude.”
“Bye.” Another whole word. I am a legend.
He heads back into the recording studio as I stand there and watch him go. Like a loser. Which is when I realize that I am also being watched. Mal is still busy twirling his drumsticks. But the rest of the group are giving me distinctly curious glances. Like I have all of their attention.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“Sure,” says David. “Right, baby?”
Ev’s smile seems off somehow. “Absolutely.”
David then gives me a broad smile and two thumbs up. Which is weird. He has always been professional and friendly. But this is…I don’t actually know what this is, to be honest.
Mal, meanwhile, throws a drumstick in the air like a baton and catches it. He then gives himself an enthusiastic round of applause. There’s a person who definitely has no issues with making himself heard. I need a little of his confidence. Especially seeing as he has enough for at least eight people.
He and David head back into the recording studio.
“Time to get out of the cold and drink champagne,” says Lena, heading for the house.
The three of us womenfolk follow the stone path through the garden. Not that there’s much happening at this time of year. The property is on the edge of a hill overlooking Mount Hood. It’s a beautiful view. Though the wind is chill and bitter as heck.
“Are you getting along okay with Dean?” asks Ev. “You’d tell me if you felt uncomfortable sharing the guest house with him, right?”
“Of course,” I say. “But we’re fine so far. He seems nice.”
“He is a really nice guy.”
“And hot,” adds Lena. “Don’t you think, Jude?”
Oh my God. My laughter is powered by pure nervous energy. It splutters up and out of me before I can smack a hand over my mouth to stop it. Cringe.
Lena grins. As if that is all the encouragement she needs to pursue this line of questioning. Not good.
It’s a relief to get back into the warm air of the main house. Ev heads for the bar and sets out three champagne flutes. And since she’s the boss, I will of course do as told and have a sip or two. Celebrities always have the best booze and such. You’d be amazed how much free stuff some of them get sent. The section of the population who actually have the disposable income to afford all of the nice things don’t often need to spend the money to get them.
Gold and platinum records line the hallway, and guitars are scattered around everywhere. When I started, I worked as both housekeeper and nanny for the family. But then they moved from their apartment in the Pearl District to this much larger place, so they got a full-time housekeeper to cook and clean. A good thing since this place is huge. It also means I can just focus on keeping up with Jamesy. With the way he’s attempting to get into everything these days, he is more than enough for me.
“Dean’s single too,” says Lena, getting comfortable on the sofa. “In case you’re interested. He was seeing a swimsuit model. What was her name? It starts with G. Gabby or Greta or Gianna…something like that.”
Ev frowns. “Don’t let his ex intimidate you, though, Jude.”
“Absolutely not,” says Lena. “You’re a wonderful woman with a great personality. And not all of us can have the kind of booty that appears on the cover of magazines.”
“Right.” My smile won’t stick to my face for some reason. It’s been a long time since I last pondered the state of my booty. “Thanks.”
“You’re not seeing anyone, are you, Jude?” asks Evelyn. “You haven’t mentioned anyone. Not that you’re required to tell us your private business, of course.”
“Um. No.”
Lena grins. “I think you and Dean would make a cute couple. Don’t you think he’s handsome?”
I nod helplessly. Because the man is handsome as fuck. And this is all so awkward. I smooth down my blonde bangs and say a whole lot of nothing. It’s becoming a habit of late.
“I repeat, not that we’re sticking our noses into your personal life because that would be wrong,” says Ev, passing me a glass of champagne.
“Totally wrong,” Lena agrees.
“So very wrong. Yes.”
“Anyway, Dean’s been super successful the last few years,” says Lena, still going full steam ahead. “All of the biggies want him onboard as their producer. Ever since he got nominated for a Grammy, he’s been the one to work with.”
Ev nods. “That’s true.”
“So…” Lena crosses her legs and asks, “What do you think, Jude?”
Now this situation is humiliating on several levels.
Let me explain.
Not only are we talking about the viability of a man who is hopelessly out of my league. But, to my great shame, when I started this job, I had a small crush on Jimmy Ferris. Yes, Lena’s husband. I know, I know. There is no excuse for crushing on a married man. It is a terrible and tacky thing to do. Though meeting the person who used to feature predominantly on the posters covering your teenage bedroom walls is an experience. But I totally have it under control now and hardly ever blush brighter than a baboon’s butt in his presence. Like it’s a fifty-fifty thing. A vast improvement, really. Those early days were awkward as hell.