Authors: A.m Madden
Chapter 15-Leila
Our first few days in the studio were exciting, grueling, and had me second-guessing my decision to work both gigs at the same time. Each night I climbed into bed, dead to the world and I haven’t hit the weekend yet, where I’ll have to end my day performing at The Zone. I hope Cliffhangers are close to replacing me.
I worked my ass off,
so my new band wouldn’t think I was a slacker. Of course I’m not and if anything I ran circles around them, except Jack. His stamina is impressive.
Lunch
and dinner were brought in so basically we never left the studio.
He was always conscious of my needs, constantly asking if I needed a break
but never bothering to ask the same of the guys.
It’s gotten to the point where they each want
to kill him.
Hunter was the
ringleader in coordinating different ways to annoy Jack.
On day one, Hunter complained he was hungry and wanted to take a break. He griped he couldn’t play the drums well if his stomach was growling. Jack of course ignored him. The next day Hunter was prepared. He pulled out a huge punch bowl filled with Fruit Loops from behind his drum set and
preceded to slurp them down in the middle of a song. Everyone laughed, even Jack hiding a smirk.
I thought it was hilarious and
couldn’t keep from laughing.
They would all raise their hands and ask for permission to go to the bathroom. If Jack ignored them, Hunter would ask me instea
d. “Miss Marino, can I go pee pee?”
We discovered that
Hunter had the guys in the control room alter our voices to make us sound like munchkins when we listened to the playbacks. Trey almost pissed his pants when he heard it.
As exhausted as I was at the end of each day, I
still loved my new job. I haven’t laughed as hard or as much as I did these past few days. My old band members were fun, but watching these guys interact was nothing short of a reality show in the making.
Besides the
fun and the whip cracking, there were many moments of clenching on my part. If I thought Jack was sexy on a normal day that was nothing compared to how sexy he looks while playing a guitar and singing.
Oh my
sweet
lord. It was an aphrodisiac of the most dangerous kind.
His handsome face
was so intense when he concentrated on the words and his hands were so sexy as they moved among the strings that I couldn’t stop staring at his pure perfection. He caught me and smiled shyly. Witnessing him playing guitar will no doubt fuel many,
many
more dreams of Jack Lair.
Jack was thrilled to call me car service
at the end of the day. I had to admit it was really nice being driven, especially after the exhausting days we had. In hindsight, his suggestion was thoughtful and sweet. When I regretfully thanked Jack, the bastard winked at me.
All in all, things were really moving along until today. I woke up with a terrible head cold and m
y voice wasn’t cooperating. Even so, I wasn’t going to be the cause of screwing up our schedule. Jack and I argued all morning and got nothing done anyway. He can be so stubborn.
He ended
rehearsal early by sending me home and ordering me to rest. I wasn’t going to win this fight, so I did just as he asked. I set an alarm just in case I overslept, and woke up feeling cranky and irritable when it went off. The nap did more damage than good. As I’m lethargically getting ready for tonight’s show at The Zone, my cell rings.
“Hi
, Jack.”
“Leila, you sound like crap. Did you do what I said?”
“Yes boss. I had soup, I slept, I took a hot shower, and now I have to get to work.”
“I knew it. Leila you need to stay home and rest. I’m sure the guys will understand.”
“I’m fine. I feel better. I took cold medicine and I’m fine.” Of course it was a big lie.
“Leila…”
“Jack, it’ll be a quiet night. I’ll play keyboards and…”
“…I’m calling Evan.”
Sighing heavily, I begin to lose my patience. “I have a dad, I don’t need another one. It’s just a stupid cold. Please stop.”
The long silence on the other end forces me to ask, “Are you there?”
“A cold that can turn into something worst. Call me tonight. I don’t care what time it is. If you forget, I’m coming to Hoboken.” With that he hangs up without a goodbye.
What the fuck was that?
Once I arrive at The Zone, Evan takes one look at me and smirks. “You do look like shit.”
“Gee thanks.” Obviously Mr. Lair called him. “You are so generous with the compliments.”
Evan confirms my suspicion. “Cut the crap. Your boyfriend called. Go home.”
“Uh…he’s not my boyfriend.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“Jerk.” Brilliant, mature comeback Leila.
Lori walks up to me and smacks her hand against my forehead.
“Owwwaaa.”
“You’re hot.”
“Thank you. You’re annoying.”
“Hilarious. Go home.”
One by one my friends nag me
and make me feel like I’m five. Matt is no way sharing a microphone with me. Joe has a party this weekend and if he gets sick and misses it he will kill me. Logan and Alisa both take the liberty to tell Sal I’m sick and have to go home. Sal calls my dad who then precedes to text me relentlessly.
I can’t take anymore!
“Fine, I’m going. You are all irritating the crap out of me and that’s the only reason I’m going home.”
As soon as I’m back in my apartment, I text Jack.
i’m home…they kicked me out... going 2 sleep
.
I
receive his return text instantly.
good…b there soon…what kind of soup do u lik
e.
no!…can’t chance you getting sick…i’m fin
e…locking door and passing out.
grrr…ur so
stubborn….fine…call me 2morrow.
did u just growl?
grrr.
***
My cold turned into an upper respiratory infection. I hate when I’m proven wrong. Evan and dad came by to check on me. Jack took the opportunity to
gloat and alternated between texting and calling me. It was bordering on excessive and annoying and it was kinda hot. I felt cared for. It’s stupid, because I am cared for between dad and my friends. But Jack’s “take control” antics were turning me on.
My phone now buzzes with text number seven hundred and three
. This one announces that he is at my door.
open up.
Groaning, I shuffle to the door without opening it. Calls and text were hot and sexy, but showing up at my door when I looked like a zombie out of the
Walking Dead
was not cool.
I’m wrapped in an afghan
and wearing mismatched pajamas. My dirty hair is in a messy ponytail, bags are under my eyes and I haven’t shaved my legs or showered in two days.
“Go away. I look like crap.” Actually, I just insulted crap. I really prefer he didn’t see me like this.
“No…open up.”
“No.”
“Leila…”
“Leila…”
“Really? Open the damn door.”
I huff and puff yet
slowly open the door a tiny crack.
“Hey Rudolph.” He teases.
“Funny. I told you to stay away, you’ll get sick.”
“Planning on making out with me?”
Wait…what?
“Uh, n
o…”
“Then how would I get sick? I came to make sure you are getting better.” He pushes his way in, and carries two bags into my kitchen.
“What’s that?”
“Medicine and soup.” He begins pulling item after item out of the bags
and lines them up on my counter.
“Medicine and soup for a small village?”
“Cute. You’re needed back healthy and in singing condition.”
“So
you’re concerned about the recording schedule and not with my well-being?”
Jack stops in his tracks
looking highly insulted. “No. Is that what you think?”
“I’m kidding.”
“Leila, I don’t care about the album right now.”
“I know.” Jeez
, he’s so sensitive.
I feel
bad about hurting his feelings and allow Jack to play nurse for hours. I let him feed me, medicate me, and fill me in on what I missed at the studio. He really is a very good nurse who also happens to be very easy on the eyes.
The soup is absolutely delicious. I
inhale the entire bowl without stopping and look up to see him scowling at me.
“What?”
“When was the last time you ate?”
“Does Nyquil count?”
“Ha, ha.”
“I don’t remember. The soup was really good. Where did you get it?”
“My mom made it.”
“Shut up!
”
“She dropped it off this morning.”
“Jack, please tell me you didn’t ask her to make me soup.”
“I didn’t. S
he did it all on her own.”
“Oh my god…that is so nice…and so embarrassing.”
“Why? That’s my mom. Get used to it.”
I can’t believe he told his mom I was sick.
I can’t believe Jack’s mom made me soup.
I can’t believe he drove it all the way to Hoboken.
The Lair family can’t be real. Gorgeous…generous…caring…it’s all too good to be true.
I’ve been trying to convince myself what I feel for Jack is just a mad crush. Sitting here having Jack take care of me, seeing me at my worst, and killing me with his kindness, makes me realize I’ve been delusional and in denial.
It’s not just a crush.
I am falling for him, hard a
nd I haven’t a clue how I’m going to handle this because Jack and I cannot be a together. I can predict what people would say - his back-up singer fucked him to get her dream job. It doesn’t matter that I already got the job. That’s a small detail that would be ignored. I may as well flush my career down the toilet.
Jack senses my discomfort.
“You ok?”
“Yep,
just tired.”
To change the subject, he announces
, “The guys miss you. They claim I’m a bitch when you aren’t around.”
Laughing at his admission I ask, “Are you?”
“No comment.”
“Tell them I’ll be back soon to keep you in line.”
“Good.” Watching me closely he adds, “I miss you too.”
The familiar buzz I feel when our eyes lock takes hold of my body. For the first time in days I don’t feel chilled to the bone.
I feel very warm. My lower half shows signs of life and I feel my heart pounding in my chest. My palms are clammy too. My eyes, my heart, my crotch, my body all don’t care what would happen if Jack and I got together. They all want him. My resolve is wearing extremely thin and stretched to its absolute limit right now.
Having Jack in my apartment as I’m having this life-altering awareness while under the influence of cold medicine is a dangerous situation.
My brain is the only logical one at this party. It controls my mouth.
“You can go now. I’m really tired.” I lie through my teeth.
“Kicking me out?”
With a nod, I close my eyes and pretend
that exhaustion hits from the cold medicine. “You are a good nurse. Thank you.”
I carefully measure
my breathing, as I drift into a fake sleep. I wait as Jack places everything I need within arm’s reach.
“Sleep tight pretty girl.” The feel of warm lips on my
forehead nearly blows my cover but I continue my even breathing and continue with my charades.
Jack
leaves me bundled and cozy on the couch before he quietly exits my apartment. It isn’t long before actual sleep does take over.
The bright sunlight wakes me the next morning. Amazingly, I feel better having gotten a restful night of sleep filled with dreams of Jack. We were married and he was taking care of our sick daughter. It was so real and so beautiful and I’m so screwed.
Stretching lazily, my phone buzzes with a new text that puts a grin on my face.
hey pretty girl…hope u f
eel better…call me when u r up.
So screwed!
***
When I finally got back in the studio, I had to pretend I wasn’t at all affected. Let me tell you it’s not easy being around someone you love and pretend you don’t. Every word, action and facial expression has to be carefully controlled. It’s fucking hard as hell and it’s exhausting.