Chapter Three #2
I run my fingers through my hair and groan as I turn, kicking my chair, which rolls across the room and hits the wall before I storm out of the boardroom.
I can’t let Tillie know that, even though I think her advertising and marketing methods are entirely over the top, she is probably right.
I see now that the way I was handling the PR was old-school.
Everything is so much more advanced these days, and there’s so much I don’t know.
I hate to admit it, but maybe the indie rock scene isn’t the way to go anymore.
However, I am scared.
Fucking scared of everything right now.
I’m scared of how quickly things can go tits-up.
I move across to the kitchen area just off the boardroom and pace back and forth, trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing. Hearing the boardroom door creak open, I look up and catch Danger walking out. I risk a glance at him, but he frowns at me.
“What?” I jab.
“Ry… c’mon.”
“Seriously? I’m not being stubborn. I’m being pennywise.”
Danger laughs.
He actually laughs.
The douche.
“Pennywise? Who the fuck says pennywise. Ryan, I know you’re unhappy and even offended about having the PR taken from you, but you gotta see that this direction is the right one for us… as a band.”
While folding my arms over my chest, I exhale loudly in response, then say one word, “No.”
He scoffs. “Really? Give me one good reason?”
“We’re indie.”
“Why do we have to stay indie? We’re rock.
We can be mainstream. Fuck, Ryan, we’re good enough for mainstream.
You know we are. What’s holding you back?
I mean, what are you so afraid of? This is what we’ve all dreamed of.
Us, the four of us, our names in lights.
Recoil as a huge mainstream rock band. This is what we are.
This is who we are. This is the direction we need to take—”
“Fuck! I know, all right!”
“Then why are you fighting this?”
I sigh, exasperated. “I don’t fucking know.”
Danger exhales and then steps up to me. Wrapping his arm around my shoulders, we slump against the kitchen counter. “Ry, you’re a stubborn fuck. But sometimes, letting go of something isn’t just about letting go of one thing.”
I glance at him. “I keep thinking…” Danger nods and lets me continue, “… Katie never doubted me. Not once… on anything… you know?”
He swallows hard and nods. “She loved you, warts and all.”
I let out a stifled laugh. “Yeah. Well, she trusted me… on everything. She never thought I wasn’t capable. Katie knew… she just knew I was capable of anything I put my mind to.”
Danger nods. “So, having Tillie doing PR makes you feel like you aren’t capable?”
I shrug. “Well, I’m not capable, am I? It’s fucking obvious, man.”
He slaps my back. “It’s not that you’re not capable, Ry.”
“It’s just that maybe I’m not the best man for the job anymore?”
“You’re the best man for the job, but maybe this job needs a good woman. What do you say?”
I can’t help but let out a small chuckle. “Yeah. But I fucking hate not being good enough.”
Danger slaps my shoulder. “Then don’t think of it like that. Just think about whether your talents can be put to use elsewhere. Maybe you can start to kick my ass in training or something?”
“Yeah, like that would ever happen. You trying to make me feel worse?” I scoff.
He smirks. “No! Sorry! But really, Ryan, something good will come of Tillie being here. She is damn good at what she does, and she has our best interests at heart.”
“Yeah, I hope so. ’Cause right now, all I’m seeing is me being replaced and our money being spent in ridiculously large amounts.”
“But, on the plus side, our social media likes have gone up massively in only a few days. Tillie’s methods are working, and she’s been here for less than a week.” I groan as he walks backward away from me with a giant grin toward the boardroom, and I roll my eyes.
Turning toward the kitchen bench, I pour myself some much-needed caffeine.
I hate that he’s right.
As much as I don’t want to admit it, I have been watching our social media pages, and since Tillie has taken control, every damn one of them has skyrocketed.
She has the knowledge to somehow make everything work in our favor, and I damn well hate it.
Sure, she has the training and the background knowledge.
But the things I learned were physical. I put blood, sweat, and tears into them.
She sat behind a computer and used textbooks to learn.
I figured it out the hard way—the real way.
You can’t beat real-life experience.
That’s what gets you ahead in this life, doesn’t it?
Fuck! I don’t know anymore.
I need to get my head out of my ass because I despise admitting defeat. Tillie might be damn good at her job, but I’ll be fucked if I’m going to let her get the better of me. She proved she may know her shit, but she doesn’t know Recoil.
I can still prove I’m worthy of this band and push her out if it comes to that. I will show her who the boss is if I need to. She may think she has the band wrapped around her cute little finger, but I have no problem showing her who the real leader is.
I am this band.
This band wouldn’t be where it is today without me.
“I am Recoil!” I say proudly.
“Really? I thought Recoil was four people?” Tillie states in her charmingly squeaky little voice behind me, surprising me so much that I jump slightly like a startled and somewhat spoiled kid.
Swinging around quickly, I notice we’re in the kitchen completely alone. “Fuck. Me! You do know it’s rude to sneak up on people?”
She smirks, leaning past me to switch the coffee machine on that I was going to use during my stupid self-empowerment session. Her arm grazes mine, and a spark shoots through me—must be static electricity from the ridiculous apricot carpet—which makes the hairs on my arms stand on end.
“Well, I was too busy watching you amp yourself up. I wasn’t going to interrupt, but then you started talking to yourself. So you know, they say that’s the first sign of madness and all.”
“You think I’m crazy?” I ask, clearly annoyed.
She smirks. “Relax, Ryan, I’m joking. You’re so tense.”
I roll my eyes in answer.
As her coffee brews, I glance at the machine, craving a cup but not wanting to wait for hers to finish. “I’ll come back,” I say.
She shakes her head infinitesimally. “Jesus Christ, Ryan, I’m not that horrible. You can wait around with me while the coffee brews, and if I am that terrible, you can have my fucking cup, and I’ll get the next one.”
I swallow hard and slump my shoulders as she picks up the cup of coffee and raises her eyebrow, gesturing for me to take it.
I’m torn, wondering what the hell I should do.
Do I grab the cup like I want to, confirming I am the jerk I feel like, or do I let her have it and risk her sticking around to talk?
I decide to go for it, but as I lean forward, taking hold of the cup, she tightens her grip. While she grins, I grit my teeth in response. “Fine, keep the fucking cup.”
She giggles, and instead of pulling back, she reaches her hand forward, mirroring my motion as I draw back and refuse the mug.
Somehow, the hot coffee gets caught in our tug-of-war, and the coffee sloshes out, spilling down the front of her white blouse.
Tillie screams as the steaming liquid splashes against her breasts, and I widen my eyes in shock as I watch the fluid stain her white top to beige.
Not to mention, it also turns it completely see-through.
“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God,” she says in quick succession as she pulls the top on and off her chest in a fanning motion while the mug falls to the floor, shattering into tiny pieces.
Too stunned to move, I stand here gawking at her lacy white bra, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.
My cock instantly stiffens as she watches me ogling her, then down to her basically naked chest.
Tillie’s face flushes bright red, and she folds her arms over herself. “Thanks for your help, Ryan!” She then turns and storms off toward her office.
Clearing my throat, I watch her rush off in a frenzy, still fanning herself from the obviously hot coffee.
Shit! I should’ve helped her.
But I was utterly stunned by the two perfectly shaped nipples peeping back at me through her lace bra.
Fuck!
My cock is twitching again, forcing me to firmly grab it, rearranging it in my pants while shaking my head.
Realizing I need to do something constructive, I bend down and pick up as many pieces of the broken mug as possible, then sweep up the rest. My heart races in my chest, and my ears pound while I try to calm my frantic thoughts.
Seeing Tillie exposed like that, even though it was completely fucking hilarious, was utterly arousing, and that scares the shit out of me.
I can not be attracted to her.
Not at all.
Not one little bit.
I stand, grab a washcloth, and clean up the spilled coffee as Tillie’s stunned face keeps flashing through my mind. Sighing loudly as I wipe up the last of the coffee from the cupboard doors, I let out another long, drawn-out groan. “Goddammit,” I murmur.
Tossing the cloth into the sink, I head toward Tillie’s office to apologize.
I feel guilty for just standing there like a fucker while coffee soaked through her clothing and burned her.
When I reach her door, I pause and take a deep breath to steady myself.
Then, turning the handle, I step into her office.
She whirls around in just her bra, giving me a stunned look.
“Shit! Um… sorry—”
“Ever fucking heard of knocking, you damn imbecile?”
“Sorry! Shit! Fuck! I was coming to apologize for the coffee, and fuck! Now I’ve made everything worse.”
“Get the fuck out, Ryan!”
I rush out, grabbing the door and slamming it shut. Leaning back against the door, I bend over, placing my hands on my knees, trying to regain my composure.
After a few minutes, I stand and rest my head back against her door, shaking it slightly as I contemplate whether to wait and talk to her again. But then, I question what good it would actually do.
Oh God, then the image of her in just a bra creeps into my mind, and my cock twitches again—the damn traitor. Groaning, I slump my shoulders and turn to walk back down the hall.
I can’t wait.
I’m going home.
I need to cool off.