My Rock (The Rock Star Romance Series - Book #1) (3 page)

It was one night, he and I were the only ones there,
and he was so wasted I doubted if he’d remember me even if I walked up to him
on the street. I needed to stop obsessing over it and get to work.

Our studio was in Burbank and I lived in West
Hollywood. They’re only about ten miles apart, but in L.A. travel time, that
means twenty minutes on a good day and an hour to an hour and a half on a bad
one. I left an hour before I needed to be there, hoping that today was the
former.

It was a good traffic day and I made it to the
studio in time to run in Starbucks and grab myself a latte and still get to the
meeting room with twenty minutes to spare. A couple of the other interns, Molly
and Keith, were already there, so I sat next to them. Molly complimented my
suit and then she said, “I’m so
frickin
’ excited
about meeting Jake Gilly I can hardly stand it.”

I smiled and said, “Me too. On top of being
ridiculously rich and famous, he’s pretty damned good–looking.”

“Yeah, you think he needs a mistress?” she asked.

“I’m sure he’s got them lined up,” I told her.
“Either that, or he’s gay.”

“Hell, I’d jump the fence for Jake Gilley,” Keith
said. We all laughed just as the rest of the production company was coming
through the door.

“It’s nice to see my interns so happy,” Clint, the
production supervisor, said.

“We’re thrilled to be here, sir,” Keith told him.
Molly and I only nodded. I didn’t know about her, but
I was
still a little intimidated by Clint
. He’d been nothing but nice, but he
was a perfectionist, I was always so worried that I’d screw something up when
he was around.

“Good to hear,” he said.

After everyone took their places at the table,
Clint’s assistant passed out the agenda. The show would start in L.A. and then
move across the country towards the East Coast for six weeks straight. Then,
once all of the contestants
were chosen
, it would move
back to L.A. again. None of us interns would be traveling with the crew. Clint
had hired us only to help with production of the L.A. shows, so after the first
round in L.A., I’d have about six weeks off and then I’d work for another eight
weeks when they got back. When I’d told my mother this, she had worried and
asked me why I hadn’t just looked for a permanent job to begin with. Then I
told her first how good being a part of the
Fresh
Voices
crew was going to look on my resume, and second, how much they were
paying me. That satisfied her.

Clint talked about production issues, and, at the
end of his spiel he said, “Before we begin shooting, I will need you all to
sign a document that goes over all of the rules and regulations for the
contest. I’ll let you read most of it for yourselves, but I’d like to make
mention of a few of the really important items. First, you
cannot
be related
to any of the contestants. If one of your relatives becomes a
contestant, then you are to let us know right away so that you
can be excused
from production. You can’t have any close
personal relationships with any of the contestants: no BFF’s,
no
old classmates, bosses, neighbors, lovers. Most
importantly, you cannot start a new relationship with any of the contestants.
No dating, no sexual encounters, nothing. If this happens and it
’s discovered
, you will be relieved of your duties here. The
press watches this closely after the scandal we had last year when it
was discovered
one of the judges and a finalist were
sleeping together. I’m sure you’ve all heard the details of that. If you
haven’t, find it online and read up on it. He was a talented young man, but he
was disqualified
. She was a famous pop-singer, but she
was fired
and the press dragged her name through the mud for
months afterwards. You don’t want to be in that position, nor do I want you to
put this production company in that position. Are there any questions?”

There were mumbled “No’s” and head shakes all
around. Clint moved on and after listening to him
talk
for over an hour, his assistant whispered something in his ear and he said, “I
know a lot of you are looking forward to meeting Mr. Gilley. I just received
word that he’s in the building. He should be here—”

Before he finished his sentence, the door
was thrown
open and Jake Gilley, in his drop-dead gorgeous
glory, walked in. He was wearing a white button-down shirt and black jeans and
boots. His sleeves
were rolled up
to the elbow,
showing off his buff arms with plump veins running through them. He had dark
blonde hair that
was spiked
up and a five-o-clock
shadow that gave him a sexy, just-rolled-out-of-bed look.

He shook Clint and a few of the other crew’s hands,
then
he smiled at the rest of us. His teeth were, of course,
perfectly white and perfectly even. “Well, well, so this is my production crew?”
he said in a super sexy English accent as he looked around and took in each one
of our faces. When he stopped on mine, I felt like his dark-eyed gaze could see
right through me. It was a strange sensation and it took me a few seconds to
shake it off after he’d moved on.

Molly leaned in and said, “Dear Lord, we’re in the
presence of a God.” I stifled a laugh. She was right, though, it was as if
Adonis had just walked into the room. He gave us a welcome speech and then some
spiel about the history of his company. I’m sure it was all very interesting,
but if he wanted us to pay attention to what he said, he shouldn’t say it in
such a sexy voice or look so damn good while he did it.
 

After his talk, he opened up the meeting for
questions. Some of the questions people asked were legitimate, and some of them
seemed like they were only desperate attempts at being able to talk to him. I
couldn’t think of a question that wasn’t going to put me in the latter
category, so I kept quiet.

When the meeting broke up, Jake stood at the door
and shook hands with each member of the crew as they introduced themselves to
him. When it was my turn, I had almost as may butterflies in my stomach as I
had when I met Tristan the previous night. I smiled and said, “Hi, I’m Elly Rios.
It’s a real pleasure to meet you, Mr. Gilley.”

He smiled broadly and said, “You didn’t say anything
during the meeting, Elly. You didn’t have any questions for me?”

“Not so far,” I told him, wondering the same thing
Molly had now that he was this close—
Did
he need a
mistress?

Still holding my hand that he’d taken when I held it
out for him to shake he reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card.
He tucked it into the hand he was holding and said, “My private number is on
there. Call me if you think of anything.”

I’ll be damned...Jake Gilley had just hit on me!

CHAPTER
FOUR

TRISTAN

“Damn! That’s some good fucking weed,” I said as I
took a hit off the bong. The chick between my legs didn’t say anything, but in
her defense, her mouth was full of my cock. I couldn’t remember her name…I
thought it was Becky or Belinda…something with a “B.” It didn’t matter, I was
about to blow my load in her mouth and she was not complaining about me not
calling out her name. My balls tensed up and I was ready to cum when the
fucking phone started ringing. I looked at it—my agent. Fuck that! This was the
best blowjob I’d gotten since the bathroom at
Huggys
.
Not that it came close to that, but it was definitely the best I’d gotten
since.

I threw my head back as the naked blonde milked me
dry with her mouth. I’d shot so much that she couldn’t swallow it all and she
had some dripping down the sides of her mouth. It was as hot as some of the
porn that I had watched. Fuck! The goddamn phone was ringing again. I picked it
up this time and put it to my ear.

“What?” I yelled, scaring Betsy or Betty or whatever
her name was. It was actually painful because she still had my cock in her
mouth. I pulled it out and brushed her away, still waiting for Mitchell, my
agent, to say something.

“Tristan,
it’s
Mitchell,”

“No shit, what the fuck is so important, Mitch? Is
my apartment building on fire?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt whatever illegal or immoral
activities you got going on
today,
Tristan, but I
actually have work for you.”

“Another shithole bar?”

“No,
Fresh
Voices
is doing first round auditions in L.A. this week.”

I laughed. I started to say something but what the
hell was I going to say to that? I already had a CD that went gold and two that
went silver. I wasn’t going to audition for some glorified talent show, where a
bunch of washed up singers and producers critique you and eleven year old girls
do all the voting. I just hung up.

Becky or Brenda climbed up on the bed next to me.
She wiped her hand across her mouth and she was reaching for the bong. I handed
it and the lighter to her and she took a hit before saying, "So you don't
want to try out for a show that the winner gets a million dollars and record
deal?"

“Nah, I don’t need that shit,” I told her.

Britney or Beth said, “Wow, that’s great that you
don’t need a million dollars. I wish I could sing.”

Maybe Barbara had a point. I picked up the cut straw
and did a line of coke off the mirror laid out on the bed. Maybe I would go.
What the hell did I have to lose at that point? I looked around the crappy, one
bedroom, studio apartment I lived in, comparing it to the penthouse that I had
before I’d lost pretty much everything. A million bucks might be just what the
doctor ordered.

CHAPTER
FIVE

ELLY

I arrived at the studio at six-thirty a.m. I was in
my comfy jeans and a polo shirt with “Set PA Intern” stitched across the right
breast and
Fresh Voices
printed
across the back.
I
’d been assigned as a set PA because
Clint said that, out of the three interns, my people skills were the best. I
was flattered at first, but I realized that set PA’s are the first there and
the last to leave. Since I was the intern, my day was even longer than the regulars’
were. This was our second day of production, and as early as it was when I came
in, I saw that there were probably already over a hundred people lined up
outside. The judges would only be seeing about fifty of them today and the rest
would
lay
over until the next day. There was no way
they
’d all be seen
by the time it was a wrap on
Friday—a classic case of the early bird gets the worm.

I went to the production room and got my radio, and
then I started the coffee and went about switching on all the lights and
checking that the judge’s chairs were clean and their desks had any
announcements that Clint or Jake wanted them to have for that day. Once the
judges arrived, around eight, or nine,
I
’d start the
job of wrangling the
talent
. I had to
make sure they were all in their places when they needed to be. If you think
that is a small task, you would be dead wrong. These
artist
types were flighty, and sometimes the emcee would be calling
out for some guy named Herbert and a cheerleader from Des Moines would be next.
They’d given me a headache the day
before,
I didn’t
expect this day to be any different.

I went over to the
door and looked out at the line that stretched across two parking lots and
wound down the street. Keith was out there working the line, trying to get them
all herded into the seating area. I felt lucky that I at least got to work
inside; it was going to be a scorcher, probably close to ninety degrees.

“Elly!” I heard the
accented voice and had to remind myself to breathe as I turned around. It was
Jake.

“Mr.
Gilley, hello.”

He smiled warmly
and said, “Please, call me Jake. Good turnout today?”

“Yes, a great one,”
I told him. “It’s L.A. and that means a lot of talent.”

“Don’t I know it,”
he said glancing out the small window over my shoulder. “Elly, I’d really love
to talk to you sometime when we’re not both so rushed. Clint has told me how
much promise he’s seen in you and I’d like to get a feel for where your career
is headed.”

My mouth went
completely dry. Jake Gilley wanted to talk to me about my career? I was
literally speechless. I nodded like an idiot and Jake chuckled.

“Good then, you
have my card. Give me a call this weekend and maybe we can have coffee or lunch
and talk.”

“Sure, thank you so
much,” I told him. He took my hand again. He held it a little too long and
looked into my eyes with his dark brown ones. I swore he was sucking
information out of my head every time he did that.

“You’re very
welcome, Elly,” he said. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”

I watched him walk
away, almost not hearing the announcement on my radio that the judges were in
place and ready for the first contestant. Jake Gilley wanted to talk to me
about my career.