Gretchen is enjoying her time off from Heaven Sent. She’s also getting along with her new young assistant.
“So, you bored out of your skull yet?”
Gretchen laughed, Ellen’s falsely bright tone sarcastically clear through her earbud. “Not at all.” She sat back on her bare heels. “I’m shopping.”
“Let me guess. You’re still sitting in that big, empty living room, probably still in your sleep shirt even though it’s after one, with only your laptop for company.”
Not surprisingly, Ellen had pegged Gretchen’s exact surroundings. “Hey, I’m dressed.” She laughed. “But I did sleep in these shorts and tank.”
“Mmm hmm. How many catalogs are sitting in front of you?”
Gretchen glanced at the colorful array spread out on her pale caramel rug. Despite online wonders, she did like to have something physical to flip through. “About a dozen.”
“You could actually go out, you know.”
She picked up her laptop and settled against the white wall that would gain color as soon as she decided on a full color scheme. “That would defeat the goal of not leaving the house.” Distracted by the flash indicating she had personal mail—not work email, that she was avoiding—she opened Gmail.
“Is the boy toy there to help you?”
Gretchen rolled her eyes, readjusting her seat in the nest of pillows she’d set up in the corner of the blank room. There was an email from Todd. Todd who? Todd who worked for her would not send her a personal email, would he? “I wish you’d stop referring to him like that.”
“But that’s what he is.”
She opened the email. “That is not what he is.”
“Close enough.”
“He’s your cousin, Ellen.”
“That doesn’t change anything.”
“You’re bad.” Oh! Todd Banks. A guy she’d gone out with a few times at the end of last year. She closed the email without reading any further than his “Hi. Long time no catch you.” There was a reason she hadn’t been out with him again. “Owen is out picking up my dress for tonight.”
“Eeep! Is the auction tonight?”
“It is.”
“What the heck are you doing lazing around? You should be at the spa or something.”
Gretchen laughed. She and Ellen had been together for so many years, it was hard for Ellen to turn off her habit of helping even though she was no longer Gretchen’s personal assistant. Ellen still worked for Gretchen, but she was a manager in her own right now with two struggling bands starting to blossom in her loving care.
“I’m fine, darling. I’ve got hours left, and the new do doesn’t take any time to fix up.” She reached up to fluff her just-past-chin-length locks.
Ellen humphed. She had not been in favor of Gretchen cutting her long red-orange hair to shoulder length but had given up grumbling about it. Mostly. “Well, all right. You’ll call me tomorrow to tell me how it went?”
“I will.”
“Oh! And have the boy toy call me. I need him to check something for me.”
“Only if you promise to call him Owen.”
Ellen snorted. “Only to his face.”
“What would your mother say?”
“She’s the one who got me started calling him ‘boy toy.’”
Gretchen laughed aloud. “I’m hanging up now, evil woman.”
“Have fun tonight.”
Still smiling, Gretchen cut the connection, then tucked the earbud in its case. After a lazy stretch, she went back to view the rest of her email. There was one from Darien letting her know that he and Chris were going to be out of the country for the rest of the summer, one from Brent asking if she’d heard of a band he’d seen the previous night, and a third from Hell asking her to look up a minor legal matter for the studio he and Brent had recently set up. All three emails she answered gladly, intrigued by the legal matter even though she wasn’t personally involved in the studio. If her boys needed her, she was there to provide. Plus it promised to be a prime spot for some of her other bands to use. Once those were done, she was free to start browsing for furniture again. She still hadn’t decided if the caramel carpet was staying or if she was going to rip it up in favor of hardwood floors. The latter would look so nice with the floor-to-ceiling windows in the east wall.
What a luxury. Sitting in her bright, open living room in red shorts and a loose Heaven Sent tank top with nothing to do for hours. Days. Weeks, even. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much time to herself. For years, she’d lived primarily for Heaven Sent. Since signing on to represent the boys back when they were still the house band at Purgatory, there had been little else for her than arranging their lives. Those four men—five now, with the addition of Hell—and their significant others meant the world to her, taking the place of the family she’d mostly lost during her childhood. Helping, herding, and mothering them was now second nature. But, as of last month, the boys were on hiatus for a year. By unanimous consent, they were all “on their own” until this time next year. Even her. Wouldn’t mean they’d all stop working, of course. She had her management company with a few other bands, and each of the boys had plenty to keep him busy, but the band itself was on hold. Johnnie and Tyler owned two hotels and were deciding if they were going to start a family. Luc and Reese were planning to get married at some point. Chris had managed to arrange his affairs so that he and Darien could do some traveling. Brent and Hell were hip deep in setting up their own recording studio with the intention of producing other acts, the first being the troublesome Indigo Knights.
Given the golden opportunity, Gretchen had decided to take an extended leave of absence herself and drop off the public radar for a bit. She’d never taken such a long vacation and, damn it, she could afford it. Her little management company virtually ran itself in the capable hands of Ellen and a few of her other current and former assistants. Heaven Sent was still their largest act but was no longer the only one they represented. So, with Heaven Sent on hiatus as of the start of June, Gretchen left the business to the others for a little while to concentrate on the house she had just purchased in the Hollywood Hills. She’d never fixed up a place herself, always had shoppers and decorators take care of such things while she was busy with work. Heck, she’d never had a house of her own before. Previous “homes” were condos, apartments, or rentals. She was looking forward to a house that felt like it was really hers.
She was engrossed with the pros and cons of wainscoting when the front door opened. She smiled, raising her arms above her head to stretch. That would be Owen, the real reason she felt comfortable taking time off. He had only worked for her since March of this year and already had her life well in hand. She trusted him fully to alert her if there was anything she needed to know or something she needed to do. She’d been afraid of finding anyone competent after promoting Ellen, but her former assistant’s cousin fit the bill quite nicely.
Rubber soles squeaked on the tiles in the vaulted entrance hall. She looked up just as he stuck his head through the double-wide arch to see if she was there. Ah, my angel! She knew she shouldn’t think of him like that, any more than she should allow Ellen to keep referring to him as a “boy toy,” because Owen was far too classically both. He was five feet five if he was an inch and had the build of a high schooler, which was why people often mistook him for a kid. He was not. Young, yes, just turned twenty-four. Fortunately, he only had to open his mouth to belie the naïveté suggested by his huge aqua eyes and pink, pouty lips. He had been a model in his early years of college to help pay for tuition, but those days were behind him. Too quiet and sensitive to be a hawk in business yet, but Gretchen had a feeling he’d grow into it as his skin hardened after a few years. His instincts were sound, and he was sharp enough to have gained Gretchen’s full trust in less than a few months.
He grinned when he caught sight of her and stepped into the room, her dry cleaning draped over one arm, his backpack slung over the opposite shoulder. “There you are.”
“Here I are.”
“Did you find anything good?”
“I did. Come here.”
“One sec, let me hang this up for you.” He disappeared, and she heard him dashing up the stairs.
Was it wrong of her to get a little thrill at thinking of him in her bedroom? Yes, it probably was. She was ten years older than him, for Christ’s sake. She had no business thinking of him in anything resembling a sexual manner. But in the privacy of her own mind, she had to admit to having dirty old woman feelings about the cute young thing who worked for her. How could she not? Given half a chance and a good reason, she’d gladly devour every creamy inch of skin on that finely toned body. She salivated when she wondered if his sweet demeanor translated to an actual taste.
Stop it now! she admonished herself, putting aside her laptop and picking up two of the catalogs that surrounded her so she could show him the furniture she was considering. By the time he got back, she’d brought her libido under control and told herself that she didn’t even notice the sheen of fine gold hair on the shins visible below the hem of his cargo shorts, nor did she smell the slight tang of summer sweat over his fresh scent. Nope. Didn’t notice at all.
“By the way, that video game guy called again.”
“Archer Drakos?”
“Yep.” With the agility of youth, Owen folded himself to sit beside her and accepted the catalog she held out to him. “What’s with him?”
“He has a game design he wants to build around Heaven Sent.”
“Really? Like Drakos Gaming?”
She blinked, watching him sparkle with excitement. “Yes. I take it you’ve heard of them?”
“Yeah. They’ve got some great games.”
She cocked her head, his interest causing her to consider more than she had. “You think it’s a good idea?”
“I think it’s an awesome idea. Music is a big part of video games anymore. What kind of game?”
“Heck if I know. All I know about them comes from Johnnie or Hell.” She cocked her head to the side, studying him. “You think I should talk to him?”
“I don’t know.” Owen ducked, as he usually did when she pointedly asked his advice. She was going to have to break him of that habit if he was going to go anywhere. “But their last few games have been pretty good.”
“You’ve played their games?”
“A few. There aren’t many. They’re a small company.”
“How small?”
He shrugged. “Pretty small. Triad publishes their stuff. Just one or two titles a year, but I think they do okay.”
She smiled at the top of his head. That was a manager’s frame of mind. “Maybe you should talk to him.”
That got his attention and pointed those big blue-green eyes up at her. “Me?”
“Why not? You know more about it than I do.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t.” He reached up to comb back his dark blond hair. “You should have Johnnie talk to him or something.”
“Oh please. All the man would have to do would be to offer free games and Johnnie would give him the world.”
Owen smiled. Of all the boys in Heaven Sent, Johnnie was the one he got on best with. “Then maybe Luc.”
“Why not you?”
He shook his head. “I’m not ready. Oh nice.” He held up the catalog, blatantly changing the subject. “That’d go great with the carpet.”
Indulgently, she let him divert the topic. He was right; he probably wasn’t ready yet. But his interest did get hers. Maybe she should look into the game company. “That’s what I thought. I don’t know that I’m keeping the carpet, though.”
“You should. Would be colder in here in winter without it.” His gaze strayed over to the white brick section of one wall that held the largely ornamental fireplace. “You know what’d be cool would be if you got one of those art prints like you showed me by that artist you liked. One with some reds and greens in it. Let that be the color splash in the room. Maybe you can find one at the auction tonight.”
She raised a brow and snatched back the catalog. “Hey.” She glanced up at the blankness over the fireplace. “Hey! That’s a good idea. Or maybe I can convince Reese to paint me something.”
Owen blushed a little, already looking at the second catalog.
Teasing, she poked at his shoulder. “Ever thought of going into interior design?”
He snorted. “Not.”
They shared a laugh. She knew, of course, where his interests lay. He wanted to do what she did. He had an encyclopedic knowledge of the music industry already, including some talent at the piano in his own right. Now it seemed that he also had a working knowledge of the gaming industry. He was working for her to get experience enough to manage on his own someday. From what she’d seen so far, if he could get past his shy self-doubt, she had no doubts he’d move into his own space like Ellen. Meantime, she’d take advantage of him as her assistant.
“Besides,” he looked up, flipping overlong bangs back from his forehead as he grinned at her, “I’m not nearly enough of a flamer for that.”
“Owen!” she gasped in mock outrage. “We do not use such labels.” Then she added in a mutter. “Even if it’s true.”
They laughed, but it made her wonder. Again. Was he gay? So far, she couldn’t tell. He hadn’t dated anyone, male or female, or shown a preference since she’d known him. She’d asked Ellen but, though they were cousins, they weren’t close enough for her to know these things. Gretchen resisted asking Owen herself. Wasn’t any of her business. Although, the mental image of him kissing a man was very nearly as exciting as the thought of kissing him herself.
Her phone rang, and Owen plucked it off the floor to read the screen. “It’s Luc.” He held it out to her.
She tapped the button and raised the phone to her ear. “You can’t cancel on me.”
The low voice on the other end chuckled. “I wouldn’t dream of it. In fact, I’m calling to find out if you want a second date.”
“Second date?”
“Reese is back in town.”
She grinned. “Oh yay! I thought he wasn’t coming in until this weekend?”
“He missed me.”
She heard the loud snort beyond Luc’s voice and recognized it as Reese. She laughed. “I’m sure that’s the case.”
“So what do you say, toots? Want two escorts to this auction thing? One who might actually know something about the art we’re going to see?”
Before she could answer, she heard a murmured tousle on the other end of the phone, followed by Reese’s tenor. “Hey, Gretch.”
“Hello, honey. I’m so glad you’re home.”
“Thanks. About tonight, if it’s a problem, no worries. I don’t have to go.”
“Reese, darling, are you going to deprive me of walking into the party with two gorgeous men on my arm? I think not. I insist you come with.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Like the lunk said, you’d probably get a kick out of it. Anyway, you can help me pick out a piece for my new house. That is, if I can’t convince you to paint something for me yourself.”
“Uh, let’s discuss that last part. But I’d be happy to help you pick out something tonight.” Reese sounded genuinely pleased. “So now I’ve got to figure out what to wear.”
“You need me to send help?”
“No. I’ll figure it out. Thanks, Gretch.”
“Oh no, the pleasure will be all mine.”
He laughed. “We’ll see you in a few hours.”
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