Haze Andrea Wolfe (best mobile ebook reader txt) 📖

I even reposted the shows on my own account, even though I didn't have really any friends in NYC. If it had the potential to help Lexy, I did it. By this point, she had become a close friend.

What impressed me the most was how ready she was for this. She wasn't cocky or anything else, just confident that she had put in the work and would now reap the rewards. There was going to be a tour soon, a month-long journey across the United States in decent sized venues and luxury hotels courtesy of Mr. Manager, Jack Teller. A huge band had given her an opening slot, but Jack wouldn't tell me who it was just yet.

He was sure it was the last tour she'd be an opener for. After this, she'd be a headliner, no doubt. And from what I'd heard, he was absolutely right.

Before he even finished telling me about the tour, he had already informed me that I was coming along and that it would be a blast. Yeah, I was starting to get used to this whole rock 'n' roll thing, acclimating to his excessively creative world that had a place even for little old me. Jack was going to do this tour, and although he would forever remain Lexy's producer, he wasn't sure if he wanted to keep doing that.

We'll see how you like life on the road, he had said. It sounded like a challenge worth accepting.

There was one restriction, however: Jack forbade me from coming to the rehearsals. I had never seen him truly perform, so I would just have to wait until the gig. He gave me a front row seat in exchange for my patience; I accepted the offer.

I had met most of the band members around the label, and they were all a lot of fun, affable personalities handpicked by Jack. They were all guys—I told Jack he was a sexist after I found out their gender—and all around Jack's age, people he had known over the years.

One way or another, I was excited for this big night, excited for Lexy, excited for us. This weekend we'd basically seal the deal, taking yet another step toward forward in our relationship. I liked it. Things were coming together in my life and I loved the progress, loved how it felt.

It was as if I had spent years trying to buy shoes, and I'd finally found the pair that felt good both in the store and in actual use. How many times have you bought shoes only to have them chew up the flesh on your ankles the first time you do any serious walking in them?

Yeah, Jack was the perfect pair of shoes for me.

***

My diurnal duties completed, I chilled out in the office, just relaxing and reading a book until Jack got back. I had started reading again, something Jack had encouraged, insisting that he owed much of his creativity to the books he consumed. I had also started writing as well, something that would obviously be enhanced by my reading.

I used to love reading, but I had stopped once I got into college, replacing my word diet with textbooks instead of fiction. It was fun to escape into another world temporarily, even though I had started to like this one so much.

Not ten minutes after I became idle, Jack showed up with two huge chicken parmesan subs from this local deli that he liked so much.

"God, you're trying to make me explode," I whined. "Those are huge."

"If you don't eat the whole thing, you don't explode." He winked at me and quickly swept his eyes across the room. "After we finish these, we're heading home to get dressed and leaving immediately after. There's a backstage area where you can have some drinks."

"Do you have tickets for my seat?" I asked innocently.

"I was actually kidding about that. You can watch from side if you want. Most VIP guests watch from really close or really far away. Can't get closer than the stage."

"What if I want to sit in front? I wanna be a real audience member. Isn't that why you denied me access to the rehearsals?"

He cocked one eyebrow and smiled. "Touché. Sit there if you please. But the free drinks are backstage. You'll have a wristband to pass security, no matter where you're sitting."

"God, I'm gonna be like a real groupie," I said proudly. "My life's dream, finally fulfilled tonight when I sleep with a rock star."

"Right," Jack said huskily. He leaned forward and kissed my neck, slowly crawling down my flesh until his tongue was in the swell of my cleavage. "You always taste so sweet."

"I bathe in sugar," I said wryly.

"That's so stupid," he said, giggling even though he acted as if he didn't want to.

"I don't want to hear about it. Those subs smell so good and it's clouding my judgment."

"Understandable," he said, sitting down and sliding the pile of napkins near us.

We ate quietly together, the rest of the label employees gone for the day. It happened this way most days, Jack and I being the last people here and having to close up shop. He seemed to enjoy maintaining the space. It was nice—certainly much better than the typical indie label—but a lot smaller than MCI, obviously.

It was so cute watching Jack sweep the floors and straighten things out on his desk prior to leaving every night. He took such pride in the label, the only business in the world that was truly his, free from any outside intrusion or input.

Tonight, however, he skipped the chores so we could keep our schedule.

The limo was already outside waiting for us, and the trip back to his place was short.

Jack requested that I wear the ruby red chiffon swing dress I had purchased the previous week, so I obliged. As soon I walked out clad in the dress, his eyes crawled up and down me in the sleaziest fashion possible.

"What the fuck, Jack?"