Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 98823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“See, there you go.” Harley clapped me on the shoulder. “We hired a too-responsible crew.”
“We’re doing good.” I took a deep breath. It was a good thing our meager group was all busy. It meant we had a good chance of making it as a small company, contrary to what naysayers like my father thought. Having enough work for everyone was what we wanted, even if it sucked for me in the short term. “Okay. Say I do this gig. Will you be all right holding down the fort?”
“You doubt I can?” Harley rolled his eyes, clearly not fooled by the question. The real question was whether I would be all right, not him.
“Never doubt a SEAL.” I offered him a fist bump. “And I’m doing this for us. For A-List.”
“And for Danny,” Harley added. “He’ll be thrilled. Can’t discount that. Happy brother, happy life.”
“Ha.” I thought about what Ezra had said the night before. I really did need to work on being more supportive of Danny. Whether or not this thing with Cash lasted, he was happy right now, and that mattered. “Fine. You hit the shower, and I’ll call Ezra.”
But nothing was as simple as a phone call with Ezra. I offered to email the security contract for him to sign, but he summoned me for another in-person visit to sign the contract and finalize the details for flying out and the first concert of the trip. Luckily, I was used to landing in the middle of the action. I didn’t doubt my ability to get up to speed, but I questioned my wisdom in accepting the job when Ezra himself opened the door clad in a low-slung pair of shorts and nothing else.
“Hey there. I just finished a run.” Ezra ushered me in. My eyeballs couldn’t seem to decide on a safe resting spot. He was more muscular than I’d thought, tall but lean, with abs that said he did more than simply the occasional run. The skin on his torso was as pale as his face, miles of creamy skin, no freckles even, and only a sparse dusting of hair on his chest and belly. Dark-pink nipples. His thin shorts hung on distractingly sharp hipbones, low enough to play peekaboo with the line of hair heading south from his navel. Even his muscled calves and bare feet were alarmingly appealing.
“Good. Uh. Good for you.” I settled on looking over his shoulder into the interior of the house. “If you need a minute, I can wait.”
“Nah, I’m good.” Ezra absently patted his bare stomach, and a too-loud exhale escaped my traitorous chest, making him smile. “Oh. You need me to put on a shirt?”
“It’s okay,” I lied as I followed him through the house to the dining area with a large metal table. Whatever muscle twitches his half-dressed music videos induced in me were nothing compared to the reality of being inches from his skin, with his spicy scent and melodic voice filling my senses. However, I’d simply have to cope and get this over with. No way was I admitting his near-nudity bothered me. I held out the folder full of pages I’d printed out back at my condo. “I brought our standard contract.”
“Excellent.” Ezra grabbed a pen off the table and flipped to the last page.
“You’re not going to read it?”
“Do I need to?” He signed his name with a flourish, the sort of showy signature born from signing thousands of autographs. “You won’t screw me over, or else Danny will have a fit, and even if you do, you’re better than the shit the label wants to force on me.”
“Glad to be of service,” I said dryly. I didn’t need his praise, but him acting like he had to choose between boiled spinach and wilted celery grated.
“Yeah, they were all over me, wanting to hook me up with a damage-control specialist team of new PR and security people. I told them I choose my people.” He handed back the contract. I made a mental note to email a copy to his assistant if I wanted to be paid. Ezra’s lack of attention to the contract’s specifications didn’t bode well for his follow-through.
“How’d they take that?”
Ezra rolled his neck from side to side. “They didn’t like it, but I sell them a gazillion records and tickets. They can deal.”
“I’m sure they appreciate your cooperative attitude.” I was not usually sarcastic, but something about Ezra seemed to bring out years’ worth of suppressed snark.
“Hey, I know my worth.” Ezra made a face like he’d licked a too-sour pickle.
“I’m sure.” Yup. The surly fifteen-year-old I’d never had a chance to be was on full display with my cool tone and level stare at him.
Ezra returned my stare with a harsh one of his own. “You’re going to be about as much fun as eating a sand sandwich, aren’t you?”