I match his smile, liking him instantly too. I shake his hand with my good one. “The broken arm or cut on my forehead didn’t give me away?”
He laughs, ushering me over to one of the stools. “Sweetness, the best thing a man can do in this world is point out a woman’s good features, never the bad.”
“If only all men were as wise as you.”
“Amen. Do you want some coffee? I made a lot and Keith has really good stuff for the home-brewed variety. He’s a bit of a snob like that. Be thankful you’re not at Gus’s. You’d be drinking whatever cat piss he came across when shopping.”
“Well when you put it like that, I’d love some coffee. Thank you. How long have you been their manager?”
He throws me a sideways glance as he goes about pulling out a large black mug and filling it with coffee. “Forever. Cream, sugar, sweetener?”
“Just cream. I’m sweet enough.” I wink at him, and he grins.
He slides the mug over to me and I graciously accept it, wrapping my hand around the warm porcelain and holding it there even though it isn’t cold in the house.
“To answer your question, I’ve been with them since shortly before they released their third album and it’s been love ever since. But I won’t lie and say that the last two years or so since they fired their previous assistant haven’t been rough.”
I tilt my head as I take a sip of coffee. It is really good. “How so?”
“Well, I manage the band. Their brand and their business. I don’t manage them, and that makes a big difference when they don’t have a personal assistant who does. Get what I mean?”
“I think so. Keith mentioned a lot of my responsibilities would be looking after them. Making sure they eat when they’re working. Making sure their hotel arrangements are in place. That sort of stuff.”
“Yes. I can’t tell you it’s all glamor and Hollywood, because it isn’t. On a regular week, it’s running a lot of mindless errands and bullshit like that. On a travel week, it’s a lot of long hours and dealing with crap. Basically, you’re in charge of whatever the guys need and I’m in charge of whatever the band needs. But our relationship is symbiotic, which means I don’t tolerate anything less than openness and honesty.”
“That all works for me. I think. But since we’re going to be open and honest, I have no fucking clue what I’m doing or how to begin. I can make hotel reservations, Marco, but I’m assuming these guys don’t stay at the Holiday Inn. I’m assuming they have specific places they like and specific types of rooms and specific things in those rooms that’s personal to them. Or have I been watching too many movies over the years?”
He laughs, getting up again and walking over to one of the cabinets, helping himself to a Tupperware container of muffins. He’s very comfortable here. Obviously knows his way around the kitchen and something about that sets me a bit more at ease.
“Lucky for you, their last assistant was incredibly organized and proficient. She left detailed spreadsheets and documents in a drive she and I used to share. It’s all in there and anything you’re curious about, ask me or the guys. They’re not assholes. Well…” He holds his hand up. “Jasper can be a bit on the broody side, but since he married Vi and popped out another kid, he’s been better. Anyway, they’re extremely easy-going and easy to work for as far as artists go. You can trust me on that. You’ll also receive a company card to purchase everything so you don’t have to worry about expensing anything. Muffin?”
I nod, smirking. “Did Keith ask you to tend to me?”
“He didn’t ask. He suggested you need to take it easy as you have a broken arm and a concussion, and since I’m no slouch in the kitchen, I can heat us up a couple of muffins while we talk shop.”
“Fair enough. A muffin would be wonderful. What’s all this?” I ask, tapping my fingers along a thick red folder.
“Your employment documents including your NDA because we do not fuck around. And just so we’re clear and I can get through my bitch speech, that NDA extends to all aspects of anything that has to do with the band. Not just in your role as their PA. Get what I’m saying? That means any of your interactions with the band members as well as their spouses and children at any time is confidential. After the shit Sophia pulled, I take this extremely seriously. If at any point, we feel you’re violating that, you’re gone on the spot and we reserve the right to sue your ass for any damages.”
“I have no problems with that,” I tell him, staring him straight in the eyes. I’ve been betrayed enough by people I thought I could trust. By my own family. It’s not something I would ever do to another.
“Good,” he replies, relieved. He finishes up the muffins, taking out butter and plates and silverware and even some fruit and setting it all out in front of me like a buffet. We help ourselves, and just as I’m popping a piece of warm muffin into my mouth, he asks, “Now that all that nastiness is out of the way, is all that Jasper told me last night true?”
I swallow the piece in my mouth, washing it down with coffee so I don’t choke. “Considering I have no idea what Jasper told you, I can’t say.”
He gives me a satisfied grin. “Spoken like a true PA. Evasive. But what Jasper told me is that you crashed into Keith and then he proceeded to pay for everything at the hospital and then forced you here to stay because where you were living was something between a crack house and a meth lab.”
“That’s sort of the abridged version, but I guess it’s all true.”
Marco blinks at me, his expression suddenly guarded and watchful.
“What?” I ask. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“So, you’re like, staying here, staying here? Like… with Keith?”
I can feel heat starting to crawl up my skin. “Marco, you’re making me feel like this is the opening scene of a horror movie and next you’re going to tell me all about the family who was murdered in the room I’m sleeping in. It never works out well for the blonde in that situation, so I’d feel better if you’d clue me in on what I’m missing.”
“Could you imagine? I would die.” Then he covers his mouth with one hand, gripping my shoulder with the other. “Shit. Probably for real. The gay man of color always gets it in horror films, same as the blonde. Anyway, as far as I know, no one has ever died in this house and it’s not haunted. But you didn’t answer my question.”
“And you didn’t answer mine.” He waits me out with a raised eyebrow that says you tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine. I take another sip of my coffee, shifting in my chair to face him. “I guess I’m not sure what you’re asking me.”
He smirks, his dark eyes sparklingly knowingly. “Oh, I think you do, sweets. Give me the E True Hollywood Story, girlfriend to girlfriend, because in all the years I’ve known Keith, he has never had a woman other than his sisters or his mother stay here. I doubt he’s ever even brought a woman back here. He’s certainly never had one for more than one night. And before you go on asking how I can know all that, I do. First up, it’s my job. But it’s also not a secret. We all know this about him, and we all talk about it. Keith Dawson does not date or do repeats.”