Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
All of that was true, at least.
For the next several minutes, I rambled about my experience interning for a TV station in Las Vegas. I didn’t even know what the hell I was interviewing for. But at least I had hands-on experience with something I could talk about.
“What makes you want to work for the band?” he asked.
What have I gotten myself into? I had nothing. I’d barely heard their music—other than one song on YouTube I didn’t remember the name of.
When I didn’t say anything, he tried again. “What’s your favorite of their songs?”
Shit. My face felt hot. I couldn’t name a single one. “Honestly, I’m not a fan,” I confessed. “Unfortunately, I can’t name one of their songs. I just thought this would be a good job opportunity for my own personal growth, a chance to experience something new.” My face had to be red right now.
He grimaced. “How do you not know even one of their songs?”
“Just not my personal taste.”
The man scratched his chin. “Well, usually my biggest issue is having to weed through the groupies for these types of positions, but this is sort of the opposite problem. Can’t say I’ve ever encountered it before. Could be a point in your favor, but I’m not sure I should be hiring someone who isn’t familiar with them at all.”
Scrambling for something, I shrugged. “Does anyone really know them? They just think they know them, right?”
“I suppose you have a point.” He typed something into his phone. “Anyway, what questions do you have about the position?”
“I’d love to know more about the specific responsibilities of the job.”
Like…please tell me what the job even is.
“Well, you’d basically be a lackey for lack of a better word. You’d be fetching whatever the band and crew needs, assisting with loading and unloading stuff at each location. Anything and everything, really. This is definitely not for someone with a big ego. You can’t be afraid to get your hands dirty. And it would be a lot of work and a true commitment since you’d be on the road for several months.”
I gulped. “On the road?”
“Yes.” He narrowed his eyes. “What did you think? You’d be going on tour with us. Didn’t you read the job description?”
“Of course I did,” I said, attempting to save my ass. “It just took a minute for ‘on the road’ to register. I was thinking they flew to events. Road implies…bus, yes?”
“We travel on tour buses for the North American leg. They’ll be hitting Europe later this year, which will be mostly air travel on a private jet from city to city. But that wouldn’t involve you. This position is for the US tour only.”
“I see…” My mind wandered a bit as he spoke for several more minutes—I think about some of the logistics of the job.
After I gave him my phone number, he suddenly stood. “Anyway, while I like the fact that you don’t seem starstruck, I have to be honest. You’re giving me the impression that you might not be ready for this. But I’ll hang onto your information, and depending on how the other interviews go, you may or may not be hearing from me.”
“Okay,” I said, standing as well. “Thank you for your time and consideration.” Why not ask? “Would I have an opportunity to meet the band while I’m here?”
He shook his head immediately. “I’m sorry. That won’t be possible. They’re busy recording and can’t be interrupted.”
I swallowed. Worth a shot. “I understand. Thank you again for your time.”
He nodded. “Safe drive home.”
My heart pounded as I headed down the hall toward the exit. I decided to stop in the bathroom to splash some water on my face.
Inside the lavatory, I looked at myself in the mirror. My cheeks flamed as I processed the last twenty minutes and pondered whether to stick around here in the desert or just head back to Nevada. What now?
Then I caught movement behind me and jumped. Through the mirror, I spotted a man’s bare ass at the urinal on the opposite wall.
Before I could do anything else, he turned, spotting me as he zipped his fly. “Whoa. What the fuck?”
CHAPTER 2
EMILY
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I’d walked into the men’s room.”
He had a long beard and wore a hood. His blue eyes were piercing, and he seemed to have high cheekbones and a handsome face through all that facial hair.
He looked at me skeptically. “Why are you here?”
“I thought it was the ladies’ room. I—”
“Yeah, I got that. I don’t mean why you’re in the bathroom. I meant the building. No one’s allowed in this place.”
“I was let in by…Dan Elias for a job interview.”
“Doug Elias, you mean?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Interview for what?” The man turned to the sink and proceeded to wash his hands as I explained.