Wilde Velvet (6 page)

“Go on, I know that you wanna say something.”
I say in a joking tone. My heart starts to race. I gave her the green light to scold me, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not scared and dreading hearing my mom’s, no doubt, harsh words.

“Sweetie, you moved to THAT city to follow your dreams. I’m so proud of you for how you turned your life around. Please don’t let all your hard work be for nothing.”

“Mom, I have changed. I’m not the girl that I used to be. Mr Wilde is just my music producer. I’m not looking for love. And anyway he and I would never work. He is just so … annoying. He makes my temper rise and my head ache just with one look. Trust me, I’m not gonna go there.”

“It sounds like you have given
it some thought. Tell me something does he have black hair?”
  I bite my lip as my heart starts to pound.

“Yeah he has black hair. What does that have to do with anything?”
My mom laughs at my remark.

“You are a sucker for the tall, dark and handsome type. Let me guess he’s stunning, right?” 
I need this conversation to be over. I can’t keep up the pretence. My mom is going to see right through me. I don’t want her to know that Mr Wilde gets under my skin. She will read more into the situation than is necessary.
You have come too far Ashley; you will not go back to being the way you were.

My mom and I talked for a little while longer. But to my relief, she dropped the conversation about Mr Wilde and I, instead she gushed about her wedding. I laughed as we discussed wedding dresses. I had to hold back my tears when she told me how Pete proposed. My mom works as a temp at one of the local hospitals. She came home from work and Pete had written the words will you marry me in red rose petals. She said the living room was filled with candles. He even cooked a meal for the two of them. She said that when she saw him standing in his cheap suit. She knew that she wanted to marry him. So she said yes and now there is going to be a wedding. A little annoying thought bubble rises to my surface at that thought. My mom is getting married. There will be a wedding and I will have to return to Dallas. That thought cripples me. I have so many memories of that city and none of them are good. I had a complicated time whilst I lived there. I don’t like to think back on it. I would rather just move on with my life here in Los Angeles. But my mom means everything to me and there is no way that I would miss her big day.

Sydney is on her way to pick me up. I have a shift at the café and I need a ride. The door buzzes and I immediately rush to answer.

“Hey I’ll be right down.” I say as I throw my light pink sweater over my shoulders. I grab my bag and my phone from the dresser and I slip out of my new apartment. I run down the stairs and I smile when I see Sydney climbing into her car. The roof of her old Mustang is down and the sound of GREEN DAY is belting from the tired speakers. She turns down the volume as I jump into the car. She is dressed in her usual grungy clothing. Her dark poker straight hair is glued to her face and her lips are painted a dark shade of purple. She starts the engine and she slowly pushes her foot down onto the gas pedal. The song is still too loud for my ears, so I take matters into my own hands. I turn the radio down and Sydney disapproves.

“Hey I was listening to that.”
she exclaims. I shoot her a remorseful look and then I begin to tell her all about my day. I want to share with her the good news about my mom. I also want to tell her about my little mishap with Mr Gucci.

“Sorry, but I have a few things that I need to talk to you about.” Sydney slows the car down even further. Man she frustrates me with her slow driving. I try to focus on her and not the tooting horns of the other motorists. “My Mom is getting married.” I gush.

“Well it’s about time.” I laugh. She is right. It seems as if I have been waiting a lifetime for Pete to purpose to my mom. But now he finally has and we have a wedding to look forward to. Great a trip to Dallas that’s the last thing I need

“Yeah, I’m so happy for them
. Pete is the only guy that can make my mom smile and cry at the same time. They are made for each other.”

“So when is the wedding?” I shake my head.

“I’m not sure, but the wedding will be in Dallas.” Sydney tightens her grip on the wheel. Her eyes quickly dart to mine. I know what she is thinking.

“Are you gonna be okay about going back to Dallas?”
she asks. I exhale.

“I
’m not okay with it, but what other choice do I have? I can’t miss my mom’s big day. I would feel awful and far too selfish if I made the day all about me. I will just have to power through … somehow.”

“Well you know that I’m here for you, right?” I smile. Sydney is such a good friend.

“Yeah of course I know that.”

“So how was your workout with Mr Gucci?” I bite my lip as a sudden image of him rushes into my mind. I shake
my head, hoping to shake him from my thoughts.

“The actual workout was fine. The aftermath was rancid.”

“Oh, what happened?” I sigh at Sydney’s question.

“He kissed me.” Sydney swerves at my news. I scream. Luckily she manages to steady the car. It’s a shame that isn’t the case for my heart. I
’m shaking. “Jesus Sydney. Are you trying to kill us?”

“Sorry, but he kissed you? That’s huge. What happened? I need all the details.” I compose myself. Then I tell Sydney everything. She is surprised at how I acted, but I think that she understands my reasons. “Don’t feel bad. He’ll get over it.” I laugh. She’s right.

We pull in front of Pacos –the small café that I work at. I thank Sydney for the ride and she toots the horn as she drives away. I fix my bag onto my shoulder and I push open the heavy restaurant door. It’s busy and it looks as if I have arrived just in time. The three other servers looked rushed off their feet. I scramble to the back and I tie my black apron around my waist. I fix my hair and then I begin my evening of busting tables.

Six

My phone wakes me the next morning. I slowly reach over and I scowl when I
see that it’s Jonathon who is calling. We haven’t talked since our little mishap. I don’t know if he is still mad at me or if he has gotten over it. My heart starts to race as I slide to answer.

“Hey,” my voice is sleepy.

“I’ll be twenty minutes. Be ready when I arrive.” His voice is shallow and rude. He must still be annoyed about what happened the other day.

“May I ask what we are doing today?”

“Must you always answer with a question?” he says in a dark voice. I blush –that’s me told. “We’ll start with a workout and then hit the studio. That’s if you still wanna work with me.” I clear my throat.

“Of course I still want to work with you. It’s just … what we talked about, is still very much a factor. Our friendship, working relationship whatever you wanna call it can’t go beyond professional. I would really like it if you could accept my conditions and move on. I really wanna work with you on my music.”

“Babe, I’m already over it.”

“Really?”

“You sound surprised, why?”

“No reason, I’m glad. And to answer your question, I’ll be ready by the time you arrive.”

“Good,” he hangs up. I jump out of bed and run towards the shower. I quickly wash and I part-dry my wet hair. The door buzzes and I scramble to find my footing. I fall, but I manage to pick myself up. I brush off my anxiety as I pull open the door. There he is, standing in front of me. He is wearing black Adidas shorts and a white soccer sweatshirt. He looks so hot.
Focus Ashley.
He looks down at me, in my tiny shorts and extra tight tank top. My wet hair is caressing my skin and it tickles. I hold in my smile as he ushers me with more demands.

“Let’s go
. Now.” His voice is urgent. He must be in a hurry. I throw my bag across my shoulder and it falls and rests onto my hip. I step out into the hallway and then I follow Mr Gucci down to his car. As always he opens the door for me. I climb into his car and I sink into the white leather seats. He jumps in beside me. He starts the engine and pulls away. We drive in complete silence to the gym. Then we work out in that same silence. We grab some food at a local diner, again in silence. He drives us to BeatBox records, but this time we have the music of Kanye West to fill the silence. He ushers me out of the car and into the building. I feel uncomfortable in my tiny workout clothes. I feel that everyone is staring. I hate being the centre of attention. I try to compose myself as I follow Jonathan up the stairs. We reach the top floor and Emily –Mr Wilde’s assistant is walking towards us. She has a clipboard in one hand and a BlackBerry in the other. She smiles when she reaches us.

“Good morning Mr Wilde
. Miss Harper.” she greets us in her sweet voice. Jonathan briefly smiles at her as he continues to walk and signals for us to follow him.

“Do I have any messages?”
he asks in a firm tone.

“Yes sir, your father called again. Do you still want me to tell him that you’re out of town?” I shift my eyes onto his. Why is he lying to his father? I shake myself.
It’s none of your business.
 

“Hmm … no … I’ll deal with him later. Is there anything else?”
he says urgently. He briefly pauses as Emily checks over her notepad.

“No more messages sir, but may I remind you that you have a meeting at 1.30
?”He nods as he starts to walk again. I follow him.

“That’s all for now Emily.” 

He leads me to his office and he slams the door. He slouches down at his desk and he smugly rests his feet onto the wooden surface. I grimace at him. He is staring into my eyes. I feel very uncomfortable as I stand in my little short shorts. He smiles as he jumps up from his lazy position. He walks over to a shiny black cabinet. He pulls open the drawers and he takes out slim fit dark jeans and a black polo shirt. In one swift movement he pulls off the soccer sweater, revealing his tanned and toned body. He is ripped. Wow now he is even more stunning. He smirks at me as he catches me staring. I blush and he laughs out loud.

“Would you mind turning around?”
he says in a smooth accent. I blush again as I turn to face the door. I close my eyes, crap this is embarrassing. I can hear him pulling his jeans onto his body and the sound of a belt clicking against itself. He clears his throat and then he asks me turn back around. “You can look now.” he says smugly. I turn around and he is still shirtless, but his slim fit jeans are nicely positioned onto him. I smile as my eyes fall onto his belt. Of course it’s Gucci. He pulls the black polo shirt over his head and it clings to his stunning body. He gently runs his fingers through his hair. Making sure that it’s styled to perfection. He spikes the ends and then he finishes his look by spraying himself with some expensive cologne. He sits back down at his desk and he folds his arms across his chest. I feel uneasy as he stares at me. Man I wish that I had brought some extra clothes. I never feel self-conscious, but somehow I do when I am around him. His dark eyes look right through me. I can’t function when he stares this hard. “So now we gotta get you changed into something more … comfortable.” I smile, but then it fades.

“I would love to, but I haven’t brought any clothes with me.”
he rolls his eyes at my confession. He pushes a number on the speed dial of the desk telephone. Emily answers instantly.

“Mr Wilde, what can I do for you?”

“I need you to bring Miss Harper one of the outfits that Kathy Blake sent over.”

“Right away sir.”

I am stunned and confused, who the hell is Kathy Blake and why is she sending me outfits? Mr Gucci senses that I am confused, so he tries to explain –in the least sensitive way possible.

“Your clothes are horrible, so I got you some new ones.” I
’m annoyed who the hell does he think he is?

“Excuse me but my clothes aren’t horrible.”
he laughs, I scowl. He straightens his face.

“That whole beach girl look you have going on, isn’t going to cut it. You need to dress more…” he trails off. My temper is rising. I can’t wait for his next words. I am going to lash out at him.

“More like what? More like you, with your top-to-toe designer threads. I have news for you buddy, I’m not rich. Your current outfit costs more than I make in a month.” he laughs again at me. Man I feel like slapping him. He is so bossy. First it was the whole weight issue and now he is trying to change my style. What else is he going to change, my music? I need to put my foot down. He needs to know that I am not going to be moulded into what he thinks is appropriate.

“Well I have news for you; nobody has worn Aéropostale since 2001.”
he laughs at his own joke. I am about to give him my answer when Emily knocks on the door. He urges her to come in. She pops her tiny frame through the door and she sets the outfit down onto Mr Gucci’s desk. He smiles at his assistant and then she excuses herself. The door closes and we are alone. He bites his lips as he locks his eyes on mine. “I’ll leave so that you can get changed.” I scowl at him.

“There’s no need. I’m not changing.”
he leaps out from behind his desk. He walks over to me and he towers above me. His eyes are deep. He is serious and in a foul mood.

“Don’t start. Change
. Now.” I laugh at him. Who does he think is? What makes him think that he has the right to tell me what to do? Well he is my music producer, but that doesn’t mean that he can boss me around, especially not about something as stupid as my clothes. He doesn’t like that I have laughed at him. So he pulls me by the arm, towards him. His grip is firm and his eyes are raging. Man he’s scary when he’s angry. “Don’t make me ask you again, now change.” he pushes me away from him and marches out of the office. The door slams and I scream out in frustration. I am so annoyed with him. I can’t breathe. I pull the hair tie out of my hair. I am starting to get a migraine. He has a toxic effect on me. I don’t want to let him win. I want to prove to him that he can’t boss me around. But at the same time, I don’t want to upset him. Mr Phillips is taking a massive gamble on me, and there is no way that I am going to let Mr Gucci/jerk get under my skin. I give in and I make my way over to the desk. The outfit is in a plastic zip-bag. The word ARMANI is printed across the front in white letters. I roll my eyes as I unzip the bag. Inside there are a pair of white skinny jeans and a white blouse. There is also a black belt and a shoe box sitting next to the bag. I quickly undress. I am cautious what if there is a camera in here? I shake off my weird feeling. Surly he isn’t as sick as to have a camera in his office, right? I get dressed into the new outfit, and I slip on the black pump shoes. I fix my hair a little and then I sigh. I scrunch my workout clothes into my handbag as I walk over to the door. I step out into the hallway and Jonathon is leaning against the wall. He is texting on his BlackBerry, but he shoves his phone into his back pocket when he sees me. His eyes scan my body and he lightly smiles. God I hate him right now. He is so smug and up himself. I want to slap that smirk right off his perfect face. I calm myself.
He’s not worth the bother Ashley.

“Follow me.”
he says as he pushes himself away from the wall. He walks along the hallway and I follow him. He leads me into a dark room. There are computer screens, keyboards and a long line of buttons and switches. There is a glass wall with a microphone and a long stand. A set of large earphones hang nearby. I smile. I can’t believe that I am in a real recording studio. I am star-struck even though I haven’t met anyone famous. I scan the room; I am in awe of it. I pace, I am so excited. I want to start recording. I want to forget all about Mr Gucci and the drama that clings to him.

“Wow, this is amazing.” I gush. He takes a seat at the screens and buttons and he runs his fingers through his sticky hair. Normally his sexy move would have me floored, but right now I am more intrigued with the studio than I am of him.

“Haven’t you been in a recording studio before?” he has to hold back his laugh as his words pass from his full lips. I squint my eyes and take a deep breath.
Don’t let him bug you.

“No I haven’t.”  The door opens and in walks two men. Jonathan stands and greets them and then he introduces me.

“Miss Harper this is Tony and Alex. They are here to offer their opinion and to assist me, only if I need it of course.” The men laugh as they each take it in turn to shake my hand. Tony is tall, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Alex is shorter than Tony, but still quite tall. He has sandy blonde hair and brown eyes. Both guys are cute, but as always they look like zeros next to the perfect ten. Both guys are casually dressed and I have to admit that I am grateful for my change of clothes. It would have been really awkward if I was standing here in my tiny shorts and extra tight tank-top.

“It’s really nice to meet you Miss Harper,” Tony says as he eyes me intently. I smile at him as I reply.

“Please call me Ashley,” he smiles at me and I blush. Mr Gucci clears his throat as he senses the tension.

“Miss Harper is very … talented. Don has signed her on an eight week trial. Today is her first time in a recording studio.”

“Don’t worry sweetie we’ll use the gentle cycle with you!” Jonathon isn’t impressed at Alex’s choice of words. He makes a darting look towards me, eyes raging and nostrils flared. I feel uneasy, awkward and in the way.

“Miss Harper, go and get ready.” I look into Mr Wilde’s eyes.

“Get ready for what, sir?” he locks his deep eyes into my soul. His hands are lightly shaking. What’s wrong with him?

“Get into the booth Miss Harper
. I won’t tell you again.” His voice is urgent. I excuse myself and I push open the narrow door that leads into the recording booth. I can see the men through the glass, but I can’t hear a thing that there’re saying. I look around, dazed. I can’t believe that I am actually here. This is overwhelming. I am so lucky.
Don’t blow your one shot Ashley.

I sit myself down at the microphone and I look out at Mr Wilde. He is in heavy discussion with Tony and Alex. I wonder what’s wrong. My hearts starts to beat faster when I see Jonathon turn around. He is looking directly at me and he doesn’t look happy. His forehead is creased and his manner is very serious. His hands are crossed over his chest as he looks at me. I don’t
know why, but I feel the need to smile at him. I feel as if he is defending me to those guys. Something in his eyes is alerting me that I am the topic of discussion and that he excused me just to spare my feelings. I smile at him and his eyes soften. He turns back to the guys and then they look at me.
Now you know how the monkeys feel at the zoo.
They smile at me and then all three guys sit down at the screens and buttons. Mr Wilde reaches over and presses one of the many buttons. His voice is loud through the small booth.

“Miss Harper, go ahead.” I blush, what am I supposed to do? I know that he wants me to sing, but it’s just so rushed. I need to warm up and I need music.