“Oh you’re fabulous, girl. We need our best employee to work her charm on a prospective client.” He bats his thick lashes my way and steeples his fingers over his chest.
I’m not falling for it though, last time they asked for my help I was stuck entertaining a seventy year old man for three days. He was quite the handsy fucker. I raise my eyebrows in suspicion.
“Who’s the client, Marc?” Steph cackles.
“I told you she wouldn’t forgive you for sticking her with Angus.”
“Oh, baby girl, I’m sorry. I’ll never do that to you again. Scouts honor.” He moves to salute, but uses his entire hand.
“You were never a Boy Scout, Marc.” I deadpan.
“Okay, okay. Here’s the skinny. We have a meeting set up this afternoon with Three Ugly Guys for the possibility of shooting their next cover and music video. I need you Kate. This client would be a huge break for us.” He’s practically begging.
“Just say you’ll bring the flirt. Tell the man you’ll bring the flirt.” Steph rolls her eyes and a smile pulls at my lips.
“Fine. I’ll bring my A game.” I shake my head as a laugh escapes my mouth. Marc raises his hands in the air, offering a dramatic “Hallelujah!” to the ceiling above.
“Why does that band sound familiar?”
Marc and Steph gasp, wide-eyes studying my face.
“Girl, we really need to expand your music tastes. They’re only the biggest band to come out of the Valley since Jimmy Eat World. The album they are about to drop is going to blow shit up! Not literal shit, you get what I’m saying right?” Marc’s hands fail wildly as he talks. He’s notably excited about this opportunity.
“That’s awesome. I’ll do everything I can to secure the deal. But honestly, you guys are so frickin’ talented, they would be fools to not go with us.” I speak in earnest. I’m grateful to work with these artists. Steph nods before adding her two cents.
“The cool thing is they want to go with someone local, that’s why we’re even being considered. Their agent already screened us as a top choice so as long as they like what they see today, the job is ours. It would mean national exposure.”
“What time will they be in?”
“We are taking them to lunch at one and will finish up with a meeting here in the conference room. Make sure Teagan has everything cleaned up in there and that the beverage fridge is fully stocked. Oh, and have her clear our schedule for the day, I think we only had a few studio shoots on the books. Steph and I are going to pick up the new promotional materials we had printed last week. We’ll have a quick strategizing meeting whenever Jason rolls in.”
Marc looks down at his watch and I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes. So I will be on Jason duty. Getting him in here before lunch is always a chore. It starts with finding out where he partied last night and with whom. I’m pretty good at tracking him, but definitely not one of the most enthralling aspects to my career.
“So do you want me to start with researching the band or with tracking down Jason?”
“Jason.”
“Band.” Marc disagrees with Steph.
“I’ll do both. Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”
“That’s why you’re the best!” Marc pops into his office and Steph mouths, “Jason,” once more before he returns, keys in hand. They both turn and exit the door, leaving me alone. I blow out a sigh. Time for the next episode of Where in the World is Jason Moreno.
The stars align in my favor. Tracking Jason down proves easier than past productions. One call to his housekeeper results in the information he’s passed out in his own bed, and thankfully alone. I have no shame though. I’ve pulled him from the beds of men, women, and sometimes both for the sake of an important meeting and I’ll do it again.
His estate is a modern custom build in the Arcadia district. Here it doesn’t matter if the home is a piece of shit, the property values are all about location. I pull into the circular drive and use my key to open the front door.
“Hi Maria!” I wave and greet Jason’s housekeeper. “He still asleep?”
“Yes, I tried to wake him, but you know how that goes.” She shrugs and I nod.
“Oh, you don’t have to tell me. I better go get him up.”
I march down the porcelain tile hallway with purpose, swinging open the double doors to the master suite. The room is cool and pitch black inside, the darkening shades are rolled down to conceal even an inch of daylight. I fumble around in the darkness, careful not to trip as I make my way to the bedside table. Groping around with my fingers until I recover the magical remote, I press buttons and the shades began to rise, illuminating the large bedroom. Jason remains unconscious, his mouth ajar, drool spilling out onto the pillow.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead!” I sing out as loud as I can. Jason moans and rolls to his back. The sheet that was covering him opens to reveal his fully naked and semi-erect form. Sadly this does nothing for me. Jason is beautiful. With mixed heritage he’s blessed in the genetics department, in all regards. But Jason’s long been a friend and I’ll never view him as more than that. Besides, he’s a bit of a manwhore for my taste.
“Jase! Come on, man, put some damn pants on. We’ve got places to go, people to see!”
I scrounge around in the dresser and select an outfit. I come across several bottles of prescription drugs. Crap. So we’re back to this again. Jason’s been in and out of rehab several times in the period I’ve worked for him. He’s a tortured artist. Truly, in every sense of the term. His suffering is what makes his photography so beautiful. Irony at its fullest.
The emotion this man captures with a lens has brought me to tears on several occasions. I’m honored to work in his presence. I only wish said presence was clothed at the moment.
I walk back to the bed and throw the clean clothes on the bedside table.
“Last chance, big guy. Wake up, please!” I grab his arm and shake back and forth. Nothing but another slight groan. Why can’t things ever be easy? I waltz to the connecting master bathroom. Finding a glass bouquet of fake flowers on the counter, I dump the contents and fill it with water from the faucet before I traipse back to the bed.
There’s no quicker way. I inwardly cringe before I dump the contents directly over Jason’s face and jump back.
“What the fuck?” Jason jerks off the bed, sputtering and wiping at his face until his gaze meets my own. “Fuck. Kate, what the hell?”
I grab the clothes from the table and push them into Jason’s chest before I turn to give him privacy.
“I tried waking you up, honest to goodness, but you were out cold. We have a big client meeting in less than an hour.” Releasing a frustrated breath, I have to ask, “Did you take something last night?”
He dresses quietly, but ignores my question. I only hope we’ll get back in time for me to research the band.
“Ah, damn.” I turn to find Jason dressed but looking hung over as hell, sitting on the edge of the bed, cradling head in hands.
“We need to get going, Jason. How about I have Maria make you something to eat and you go freshen up?”
“Yeah. Yeah, go do that. I’ll just be a few minutes.”
I stroll back out to the kitchen and chat with Maria while she preps a breakfast burrito and cup of coffee to go. Jason wanders into the kitchen twenty minutes later looking alive and much more responsive. A pair of dark shades over his eyes is the only proof of his hangover.
I nervously glance at my phone to check the time. If we leave now we’ll be lucky to be there before the band shows up. We aren’t late, but I won’t have any time to prep myself. I slide my finger over iTunes and download their EP so we can at least listen to it on the ride over.
“Thank you, Maria,” Jason takes the offered food and drink from her hands and trudges behind me on the way outside to the car.
“Best chauffeur ever.” Jason flashes his charming smile before shoveling the burrito inside his wide mouth. I start the car.