2. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
A bout five hours later, refreshed from her flight after a quick stop at her hotel to drop off her luggage and shower, Vanessa made her way to the office of the bands’ management company, only a few blocks away. The tiny blonde secretary gave her a friendly smile before inviting her to take a seat and offering her some coffee.
“Thank you, but no.” Vanessa smiled back at the woman. “If I have coffee now I’ll be up all night.”
The woman nodded with understanding and picked up the phone on her desk. “Mr. Godstone, Ms. Templar is here to see you.”
Whatever the response was, the secretary didn’t look too pleased. She hung up and sighed. “He has to make a call, but he’ll be with you shortly.
The man’s definition of ‘shortly’ was very different than Vanessa’s. She distracted herself by reading one of the many novels she’d downloaded on her phone, trying not to check the time every five minutes. Several chapters in, she finally got fed up and hit the bookmark tab before closing the app. As she stood, the door leading to the offices opened.
“I think there’s been a mistake.” Raking his fingers through his spikey white hair, a young man, who she assumed was Oakley, walked into the waiting room where he’d left her waiting for the last half-hour. “You can’t be Van Templar. Van Templar is ex-military. Tough. Capable of dealing with large crowds. You need to go.”
Excuse me? Vanessa followed the wiry young man when he spun around and headed back down the hall, ducking into one of the rooms.
She put out her hand to stop the door before he could shut it in her face. “I assure you, there’s no mistake. I had a video conference with Reese Griffith before signing a six-month contract to tour with XIV Hours. Coming here to meet with you was a courtesy.”
“A courtesy ? A courtesy would have been to let me know our head of security looks more like a model than a bodyguard. Do you have any idea the potential violence you’ll be dealing with?” Oakley dropped into a chair in the small conference room, rubbing his temples. His strange style of a slim-fitted grey wool waistcoat over black shirt and dark purple jeans only added to the drama of his behavior.
He’d be better suited to a stage, performing some kind of steampunk, off-Broadway production than in the employ of a woman who managed metal bands.
Where did Reese find this guy?
“The lead singer was in jail not long ago. The backup singer was sent graphic pictures of crime scenes with promises that she’ll be next. The lot of them like to fight and I’ve no interest in dealing with a lawsuit if one of them punches you.”
Settling into the chair across the table from Oakley, Vanessa gave him a level look. “I assure you, I can deal with the band.” Her eyes narrowed. “What I cannot deal with is your attitude.”
His jaw nearly hit the table. He sat back. “My attitude? Ms. Templar, I was expecting a huge, intimidating man who could help me keep a bunch of metalheads in line. Because as you can see—” He gestured to himself. “—I will be incapable of it alone.”
Head cocked to one side, Vanessa studied the man for a moment. “I’ve read up on every member of the band. I’ve no doubt I’ll be suited for the position, but I have to ask… Are you sure you are?”
He blinked at her. Then let out a rough laugh. “No, actually, I’m not. But Reese is my aunt and she believes my skills will be useful. I knew I wasn’t her favorite, but this is the worst kind of punishment.”
“You got the job as a punishment?” Vanessa’s lips twitched. “How very unfortunate.”
“Yes, dying would be very unfortunate.” He shook his head and sighed. “But you are at least ex-military? I’m sorry, my initial reaction might have been…” He cringed, meeting her eyes. “No, it was unprofessional.”
“Extremely.”
“You are gorgeous though. If I were you, I’d look into modeling instead of putting myself in danger. I can’t think of anything less appealing than what we’ll endure over the next two months.” He rubbed his temples again. “And you have a choice .”
She stifled a laugh and shook her head. The man was dramatic, but now that he’d calmed down, she couldn’t help be mildly entertained. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you being punished?”
Oakley made a face. “For the most ridiculous reason. I let my mother buy me a car.”
Vanessa’s brow furrowed. “Okay…?”
“And pay my rent.”
“Umm…”
He groaned. “I promised Aunt Reese I would get a job and stop letting my mother pay for everything. She said I was spoiled and I bet I’d prove her wrong. That if I didn’t manage to establish independence in a month, I’d do things her way.”
She bit back a smirk. “I take it you failed?”
“ Phenomenally .” His lips slid into a sheepish grin. “The job was going well. Doing what I love, working on computers all day, avoiding the general public.” He shook his head. “But a friend’s dog got sick and I took a few days off to be there for him, helped him out because vet bills are expensive.” He scratched his jaw. “Then another friend slipped and fractured her arm, so I took a few more days. My boss was not understanding. Neither was my landlord when I couldn’t pay the rent.”
“But your mother understood?”
“She’s…always helped in any way she could.” Oakley rubbed the back of his neck, slouching deeper into the chair. “Aunt Reese convinced her this job would be the perfect opportunity for me to learn to manage on my own.”
“While that may be true, how is that what’s best for the band?” Or my sanity? She might be amused by the man, but dealing with his poor-little-rich-boy attitude would get old fast. “I’m assuming you don’t have any experience?”
“The band can’t afford better than me. I’m expected to learn from Winter’s Wrath’s tour manager. While you’ll be learning from their head of security. You can bring on two more bodyguards once you’re established—if you think we need them…” His lips thinned. “But until then, we’re on our own.”
“And I’m sure we’ll do fine.” Her lips quirked at his doubtful look. “You might want to tone down the hysterics until after you’ve met the band. They might surprise you.”
“I doubt that very much.” He sighed and pushed out of his chair. “But I don’t have a choice, now do I?”
“I bet if you call your mother, she’ll rescue you from the big bad metal band.”
“Ha ha.” He wrinkled his nose. “You’re not going to make this easier on me, are you?”
She arched a brow. “If you’re not in physical danger, it’s not my problem.”
“Great.” He braced his hands on the desk and bowed his head, mumbling to himself. “Just great.”
Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Vanessa took the files Oakley handed her about the latest threats to the band and excused herself. She’d be spending enough time with the melodramatic tour manager on the bus. Today, she’d enjoy her last bit of normalcy.
Hopefully, Oakley was wrong about the band.
Otherwise, the next two months were going to be hell.