Strings Attached (9 page)

He ended the call and snapped the phone shut, turning around. George’s shirt was tucked primly back in and she got up from the tiles and stood in front of him.

‘I’d better go. I should be serving your guests,’ she spoke, trying to move away from him without him touching her again.

‘Spend the night with me,’ Quinn said, grabbing hold of her arm.

George saw the sincerity in his expression and felt the tight grip on her arm. She swallowed, not knowing what to say. A night with a rock star, a hot rock star and someone who made her burn up from the inside out. She liked sex, it would be fantastic sex and she hadn’t had sex in almost a month.

‘Not on the roof, obviously. I have a hotel room,’ Quinn spoke hurriedly.

‘And you’re watched all the time,’ George reminded him.

‘Yeah, I know, I am. But we could work something out.’

‘I’m not that sort of girl, sorry. I’d better go,’ George said.

‘I think your brother’s really cool by the way. He knows a lot about music,’ Quinn said quickly, as George began to balance over the roof edge.

She stopped and looked back at him. He was still shirtless and the sight of his perfection did nothing to strengthen her resolve in turning him down. It wasn’t too late. She could change her mind. Her foot was only dangling toward the fire escape, no contact had been made.

‘He’s very talented, I mean
really
talented. He was grade eight piano at age eleven,’ George informed him, a swell of pride coating her voice.

‘That’s seriously good. I didn’t do grades, at least I don’t think - well anyway - he could definitely teach me a thing or two,’ Quinn answered.

‘He thinks you’re a great artist. He admires you and your music very much,’ George told him.

‘Well maybe we could spend an hour or so together doing something on the piano,’ Quinn suggested.

‘Don’t say things like that unless you mean them, not where my brother’s concerned,’ George ordered almost angrily.

‘I don’t say things unless I mean them. Tell him to ask for me tomorrow after
noon before the show, say four
?’

‘
Four
,’ George repeated.

‘Yeah and if you wanted to come along that would be good too,’ Quinn said his turquoise eyes studying her.

‘Sorry,
four
’s no good for me, I’ll be busy coordinating an Army party and trying to create something exciting and never seen before, using salmon as my muse,’ George answered as she clambered carefully over the side of the roof and her foot made contact with the fire escape. No going back now.

‘I want to see you again,’ Quinn said, leaning over the edge and watching her descend.

‘You will. I’ll be one of the waitresses holding a silver tray at your party tomorrow night,’ George answered.

She jumped down onto the fire escape, put on her shoes and went back inside, closing the door behind her.

Once inside she leant against the door and tried to get her breath back. If the phone hadn’t rung would she have stopped him? Would she have stopped herself? Or would she have had sex on a rooftop without thinking about the consequences? Why did he have
t
his effect on her? Yes he was gorgeous, but there was more to it than that, something about him was different. He got to her.

He was buzzing from head to foot, even more than from the gig. His heart was racing like he’d taken a shot of something. She was hot and sexy and she’d tasted like all his fantasies rolled into one. He stood up on the roof, stretched his arms up to the sky and howled.

Eight

‘Oh.
My.
God. Like, could my life get any better? I’ve just finished spreading three hundred slices of bread, we’ve got an Army party this afternoon, with like
loads
of gorgeous blokes, and tonight we’ve got another after-show party full of more eye candy, including the totally awesomely hot, Quinn Blake,’ Marisa announced over strains of The Black Eyed Peas.

The radio was picking up Radio One again although George wasn’t entirely sure that was a good thing. Marisa had a limited knowledge of music when it came to the 1970s and 1980s and that meant less singing and more work getting done. Marisa fighting Will.I.Am for lead vocals, meant time management went out the window.

‘You can do some egg separation for me next. I need yolks please, put the whites to one side, in a bowl obviously,’ George ordered, ignoring her excited comments and studying a recipe book.

‘Like what did you think I was going to do? Break them open on the worktop?’ Marisa replied huffily.

‘Is Adam working tonight?’ Helen enquired as she washed her hands.

‘Yes, last one though; he’s driving back to uni straight after the party,’ George replied not raising her head from her work.

‘Would you like a cup of coffee?’ Helen offered.

‘No thanks. I want to get this finished and we need to get the Army stuff organised and the van loaded. What time is it? We have to be there at
one
,’ George said, checking her watch.

She didn’t want coffee
,
she wanted beer. She was tired and she was under pressure and she couldn’t stop thinking about Quinn. She hadn’t wanted someone so badly in such a long time. Conjuring up images of his naked torso in her mind was
a
ffecting her concentration.

‘It’s only eleven
; we’ve got plenty of time,’ Helen reassured.

‘Right, OK, good,’ George replied, burying her head back into her mixing bowl.

Suddenly the back door burst open and Adam flew through it. He ran up to George and grabbed hold of her arm.

‘Is it true?’ he questioned with wide eyes.

‘Well, I...
’ George began her chest tightening.

‘I got your message about Quinn Blake. Is it true? He wants to jam with me this afternoon?’ Adam asked
,
his excitement clear for all to see.

‘Oh, yes that, yes it’s true. I mean I didn’t actually speak to him, of course, because he’s ultra important and that wouldn’t be professional. But his PA, Michael, said he thought you were very knowledgeable about music after your conversation the other night and he wanted to get together with you this afternoon,’ George explained haphazardly.

She could hardly mention the rooftop could she?

‘Man, this is the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me, I can’t believe it!’ Adam exclaimed, taking off his beanie hat and beaming.

‘Neither can I! You jammy sod! Private lesson with Quinn Blake! I wouldn’t mind a private lesson with him, although I wouldn’t want to learn piano. I could think of some
thing better to practice like...
’ Marisa began.

‘Thank you Marisa, your mother is in the room. I am here aren’t I? With my hands in a mixing bowl of tuna,’ Helen clarified.

‘Yeah but you said here, we’re like just colleagues,’ Marisa replied, screwing her face up.

‘What should I take with me? What should I wear?’ Adam questioned as nervously as someone about to have a job interview.

‘Whipped cream and strawberries I’d take,’ Marisa answered hurriedly.

‘It isn’t an audition for
The X Factor
, just take yourself. He isn’t going to judge you. He already thinks you’re knowledgeable, well that’s what Michael said,’ George answered
,
a flush covering her cheeks.

The lager, the cold tiles, the flawless torso, it was all so easily recollected.

‘Yeah, but he’s really amazing and this could be a chance to get into the industry. If he likes me he could tell other people about me and
...
’ Adam gushed.

‘I’ve no doubt he’s going to be blown away by you. I mean you play that piano like a demon and he hasn’t even taken one piano exam,’ George said the words tumbling from her lips before she could do anything to stop them.

‘What?! Hasn’t he? Not even I knew that. Where did you read that?’ Marisa exclaimed eyes bulging at the new information.

‘I don’t know, in one of those magazines of yours I guess. Now, you, go home and stop panicking. Enjoy the afternoon; show Quinn Blake how a piano should be played, you know, hitting the phrasing with lots of passion. Isn’t that what Mrs Rowland is always telling you to do?’ George said.

‘Thanks George. This is down to you you know, getting the catering for these shows. I can’t thank you enough,’ Adam spoke.

He put his arms around her and gave her a firm squeeze.

‘Yeah
,
go and have a little practice at your scales or something before I nick your hat and coat and pass myself off as you. Can’t play the piano though. Do you think he would notice? Especially if I just kind of like stripped off and got on top of it? Or him,’ Marisa asked.

‘Marisa!’ Helen exclaimed.

‘I don’t think any normal red
-
blooded man would fail to notice you Marisa,’ Adam told her with a smile.

She blushed immediately and tried to avoid catching Adam’s eye.

‘Go on, go! I’ll see
you at the Hexagon about ten thirty
,’ George ordered, shooing him to the door.

‘OK, see you later,’ Adam said.

‘Bye Adam and good luck,’ Helen called after him.

‘Yeah good luck and if you finish before the hour’s up, I’ll entertain him for the rest of the time. Just text me,’ Marisa added.

‘What’s got into you Marisa?’ Helen asked when the door had closed and Adam had left.

‘What?’ Marisa asked innocently.

‘Since we started doing the catering for Quinn Blake you haven’t stopped talking about him for a minute, usually with sexual connotations attached to every other word,’ Helen said, facing her daughter.

‘Yeah well, he’s hot and I’ve seen him in the flesh like every night and so what?’ Marisa snapped.

‘Well, it makes you sound cheap,’ Helen replied.

‘Me! Cheap! That’s rich coming from someone who models herself on Tina Turner in her Mad Max phase and uses
V
alue antiperspirant,’ Marisa exclaimed, turning to face her mother.

‘Hey, guys, could we stop the confrontation about sex and deodorant and concentrate our efforts on the food?’ George suggested.

‘Well she started it! And anyway, it isn’t like I’m going to exactly leap on Quinn Blake is it? I mean he’s engaged isn’t he!’ Marisa shouted, crossing her arms defiantly.

George dropped the book she was holding and it hit the mixing bowl of egg whites. Al
most in slow motion the bowl
tumbled off the worktop and smashed on the floor.

‘Oh shit!’ George exclaimed angrily, looking at the mess.

Quinn was engaged. No, he couldn’t be. Marisa must have finally read one
Star Life
magazine too many.

‘Oh George, let me clean that up for you. I’m sorry, that was our fault for arguing and disturbing your concentration,’ Helen said, hurrying to the cupboard.

‘No, it’s OK, I’ll do it,’ George said with an aggravated sigh.

‘Shall I do some more eggs?’ Marisa offered sheepishly.

‘No, it’s OK, I’ll do it later, let’s just concentrate on the Army stuff for now,’ George said, taking the cloths Helen was offering.

She began to clean up the sticky egg mess but curiosity was getting the better of her. Was Quinn really engaged? She had kissed him, she had almost had sex with him and he was with someone. And not just
with
someone, planning a wedding with someone. She hadn’t supposed she was the only woman he had hit on this month or even this week, but being committed to someone else put a totally different slant on things.

‘So, Quinn Blake’s engaged? I didn’t know that,’ George remarked as casually as she could manage.

‘Are you serious? Don’t you like know who he’s engaged to?’ Marisa questioned in astonishment.

‘Well, no, I don’t, otherwise I wouldn’t be asking,’ George almost snapped.

‘Taylor Ferraro,’ Marisa informed, biting her nails.

‘Taylor Ferraro?’

‘You know! The actress! She’s in that American soap opera with all the beautiful people in it. You know, the one where they’re all at college even though they all look like thirty,’ Marisa explained.

‘I’ve not seen it,’ George said.

‘She had a bit part in the latest Brad Pitt film. She was his love interest for about three scenes until she got bumped off by someone from the Mafia.’

‘I don’t know her.’

‘Yeah well he’s marrying her in the summer. She’s blonde and thin and rich and her father’s the head of Rock It Music,’ Marisa explained.

‘Right,’ George answered as she finished wiping up the floor.