Cheap & Classy (Hide Your Crazy)

BOOK: Cheap & Classy (Hide Your Crazy)
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“Cheap & Classy”

T.A. Hardenbrook

Cheap & Classy
 

T.A. Hardenbrook





Kindle EDITION





 

Cover created by
TH Designs

 

Edited by Big Bang Book Services

 

 

Copyright © 2014 T.A. Hardenbrook

 

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this work, in whole or in part, in any form.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, organizations and products depicted herein are either a product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously.

 

Chapter 1: Well shit. Let’s just go buy me a Mumu.

 

This was not my morning. Maybe it was a sign that I should have crawled back into bed, said fuck it, and tossed the covers back over my head. All signs pointed to an epic failure of a day, and it wasn’t even seven yet. Why I ever thought that I was going to be able to handle this tour was beyond my comprehension. I could blame taking the job on my weakened state of mind at the time. Dealing with my father’s death, the mother and sister combo from hell, and having the love of my life walk out on me, did leave my brain a little crispy. But I couldn’t keep blaming life’s ass kicking on the world around me. I had to grab the bull by the balls…or was it horns? Either way, I was going to have those fucker’s important parts in my hand. Squeezing until they………..
gross
; I really needed to get my mind in check this morning.

 

Tossing my disgruntled self out of bed, I stumbled over to my dresser where I left a change of clothes out for the day. Most of my important things were already packed into two suitcases, and the rest were going to sit in boxes until we got home. Slipping the black long sleeve shirt over my head, I reached for my jeans and forced my legs into the openings. Struggling with the button, I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes. I had just bought these two weeks ago and now they won’t fit. “Stupid fucking jeans,” I grumbled, flopping myself backward on my bed to squeeze my now larger self into the damn pants.

“Problems?”
Megan asked, poking her head into my bedroom.

“I’m getting bigger,” I huffed, glaring at the sparkly popcorn ceiling above me.

“Are those the new ones we picked up shopping last week?”

“Two weeks.
” I moaned. The ceiling was seriously starting to piss me off. It had done nothing but provide shelter over my head these last two weeks, but it had glitter mixed in with its fluffy white crap. I swear glitter was just waiting for its moment to smack me upside the head and coat me in its sparkling greatness.


Yeah, I found those baked in the dryer yesterday,” Megan chuckled. “Trust me; you’re not getting fat, Molly.”

I snorted when I finally got the stupid button through the stupid little hole.

“Well, I guess I won’t need the Mumu now.”

“Cheer up
, Buttercup. We leave for the tour today.” Megan squealed while prancing down the hallway.

Someone needed to drug that woman. She w
as always rainbows and sunshine, no matter how much crap was tossed her way. In a weird way, I guess I was jealous of her optimistic attitude. How easy it was for her to wake up in the morning and put a smile on her perfect little face. Then again, she didn’t have her heart smashed by a freightliner named Reid Chambers. Maybe I needed the medication, or maybe just some vodka.

 

Standing in front of the mirror to the bathroom, I stared at my reflection. I had yet to do anything with the blonde hair debacle, considering all my time was spent getting things ready for the upcoming tour. It still shocked me how much more responsive people were to me now that I sported the tamed new do. All I needed was a set of boobs and maybe a couple short skirts, and I could run this world.

I slather
ed on some foundation to try to cover the hint of green and yellow that had yet to disappear from my face. One would think that after almost three weeks that my epic bruise from hell would have vanished, but then again I have never been that lucky.

My phone started to
chirp on the counter next to me as my heart raced inside my chest. I had yet to hear from Reid since that whole pregnancy freak-out more than two weeks ago; but deep inside I knew it wasn’t him. He laid it all out there in one single text message, and all I could do was hit the delete button. I knew he was the one for me, and by not responding to him basically solidified my reservation in ‘crazy cat lady from hell’ status, but I couldn’t go through the heartache again. It was never going to be different for us. He loved me, and I loved him; but a love connection from afar was all that would ever come from it. It was like beating the dead horse over and over again; we were toxic for each other. It wasn’t going to work. End of story.

“This is Molly,” I said into the phone, cradling it
in the nook of my shoulder while trying to pin my bangs back.

“Hi Molly,
its Allan. Just wanted to let you know that the soundstage has been completely cleared out and loaded onto the trucks.”

“Thanks for letting me know. What time are you all scheduled to take off?” I asked,
scrunching my face when I realized I really should know those kinds of things.

“We are scheduled to leave with the crew tonight at five, putting us in to Spokane before midnight,” Allan replied.

“Shit-balls,” I cursed as the flatiron went flying out of my hand, landing directly on my foot. The heat from the tool didn’t register immediately, as the impact with the top of my foot darted through my mind first.

Dropping my cell on the counter, I flicked my foot quickly when the smell of burnt flesh graced my nostrils. “Son-of-a-bitch,” I cried. Quickly, I grabbed the evil flat iron off the floor and slammed it back on the counter. Seriously, could I go one single day without causing bodily harm to myself?

“Uh……..Molly? Are you okay?” came Allen’s voice from the counter.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I
mean, my bad. I just had a little accident. Sorry about my choice of language,” I apologized into the phone. I really needed to work on my vocabulary skills in fucked up situations.

“No worries
, Molly. Your word selection is actually a lot calmer than I’m used to.” Allan laughed.

“Still, I feel bad.”

“Seriously, Molly. Don’t worry about it one bit. I’ll touch base with you once we get to Spokane tonight. Have a great afternoon.”


You too.” I sighed, ending the call.

Looking back down at
the damage, the blister had already formed two perfect straight lines on the top of my right foot. Apparently, I was going to be wearing flip flops until this bitch healed, since there was no way I was going to shove my foot into my chucks and tear it open for nasty diseases and such to attack.

Molly: 0

World: 549

 

“I need to head down to the office to pick up a couple of things. Are you coming with me?” I yelled to Megan from the small kitchen. Apparently, leaving your studio apartment alone for several months was a no-no in Seattle, considering all of my things had been ransacked by the time I got home. I guess the joke was on them, since I had really nothing in that apartment anyway. Megan had offered to let me split the rent on her two bedroom place on the ‘nicer side of town’. I hesitated at first, considering she was technically working for me, and I really didn’t have the best track record for being friends with girls. But, none the less caved, when I realized staying at the old place wasn’t a smart option. Besides, her crack head of an ex-boyfriend just moved out and she could use the money.

“I have to head down to the rental company and go over the buses,” she hollered back from her bedroom.

It was really nice not doing all of the bitch work alone now. I still did a ton of it myself, since I had control issues and all, but sharing the load made my days much more enjoyable.

“Alright, I’ll be back to finish getting my things loaded up this afternoon. Are you packed and ready to go?” I called out, searching for my keys on the mess of what used to be a bar.

“Yep, and I’ll meet you at the office once I finish my tasks.” Megan smiled, poking her head around the door.

Offering her a frazzled smile, I finally find my apartment keys and toss her a half wave. “Let me know how it goes at the bus depot,” I shouted while opening the door.

“Stop worrying Molly; it will be fine.”

It can’t be fine;
something had to go wrong. My life wasn’t a happy stroll in the park; something always fell apart. My phone started to chirp in my purse, so I stopped to rifle through it. Brantley’s name flashed across the screen. Point proven right there; hearing from that man this early was never a good sign.

“Yes Brantley?
” I said, cradling the phone on my shoulder.

“I don’t really like that tone this morning
, Molls. I thought we were over the whole hostility thing.”

“I’m sorry
, Brantley. I forgot I have to sugar coat my bullshit for you.”

“Ouch Molls, that really hurts.” H
e laughed.

“Okay, well what do you need?” I questioned, carefully watching my steps down the stairs. The last thing I needed was to fall ass over head down these things, putting myself in a body cast during the tour.

“I just wanted to see if you were brining Simon on the road with us?” Brantley probed.

“I had planned on it,” I replied shortly. I didn’t have time for this little chit chat kind of session right now. I still had a million and one things to accomplish at the office before calling Stephanie and letting her know how things were rolling.

“Geesh, someone got up on the wrong side of the bed.”

“Brantley, there is only one side to my bed. Is there anything else you need from me?” I replied
sarcastically. I couldn’t say that I would ever forgive this man for leading me on the way he did; but we did need a decent working relationship if I was going to be on the road with them the next couple weeks.

“Eight tonight
, right?”

“Yes,
and please don’t be late.” I sighed. Knowing the boys were always late, I had told them eight, when we were not heading out until nine. Hopefully this little trick of mine would work.

“By
e friend.” Brantley chuckled into the phone.

I ended the call quickly and tossed the phone back into my bag. Pushing the large glass door open, I scampered across the sidewalk to the edge of the street.

“Good morning, Miss. McGlenister,” my driver, Jerrod, announced, holding the rear door open for me.

“Je
rrod, you don’t have to do that.” I smiled, rolling my eyes at the kindest gentleman I had met here in Seattle.

“It is my job ma’am.” H
e winked back, carefully closing the door once I was tucked away inside.

Leaning back into the black leather seats, I let my head drop back against the head rest. There were parts of the old Molly coming through every day; and I really didn’t know how I felt about that. Having a car service take me to and from
work, an assistant at my beck and call, playing dress up every day in my new position. One would think I was embracing my southern self. However, deep inside only one word made any sort of relevancy to my mind. Sell-out.

 

Walking through the front doors of NT Management, I couldn’t help but grin at the blonde little twit sitting behind the receptionist desk.
Have fun sitting there, sweetheart. I’ll be up in my office
. I really shouldn’t be gloating at the fact that I have a better job than her, but damn. For once, the underdog made it in the world, and the blonde headed Barbie clone took one for the team.

I throw a little finger wave in her direction as the elevator doors close in front of me.

“Fuck,” I grumble to myself, staring directly at my bright ass blonde hair. Thanks for knocking me down a couple pegs there, Karma.

 

Sliding my key card into the reader, I slammed my shoulder into my office door. Damn thing stuck every single time anyone tried to open it. My office wasn’t the beautiful space that Stephanie claimed. But hell, at least my name was on the door. Shrugging my jacket off and tossing it in a chair, I flopped down in my chair and frowned at the pile of paperwork waiting for me on my desk. Babysitting the boys was one thing, planning and carrying out the tasks on tour was a completely different world. After the first couple days here in the office, I had already sang the praises to the mysterious paper gods above. Hoping to catch a break on the crazy amount of crap I had left to accomplish. So far, the paper gods have not answered my prayer. They just sat there silently, raining endless amounts of crap down upon me.

“This is Molly,” I answered my phone, pushing some of the massive pile to the side.

“Hi it’s me,” Megan’s voice came quietly through the line. “We have a slight problem.”

“I don’t like problems
, Megan,” I whined, knowing damn well whatever she was about to say wouldn’t be an easy fix.

“So, I went over to the bus depot to double check the tour busses, and, well…………………………”

“Just tell me, Megan.”

“We are short a bunk on the crew bus,” she replied quickly.

A sigh escaped my lips. I thought that the bus had been spray painted hot pink, or maybe Godzilla snapped it in half. Being short a single bunk was not a big issue in my world at the moment.

“No
worries; we can figure it out later,” I commented, my eyes catching the top paper on my never ending pile of shit cluttering my desk.

“I just didn’t know if I should sign off on them bei
ng okay, since technically it’s not what we ordered.”

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