His Assistant - Alexa Land Page 0,50
It’s not 1992, and you’re not a roadie for Pearl Jam, Phoenix. You could make a little more of an effort, you know.”
“Why do you care?”
“I just do.”
I turned to look at him, as much as I could with the seatbelt restraining me, and asked, “Is it because people mistake me for you in public, and you don’t want them to think you’re a hot mess? That’s it, isn’t it? The only reason you care how I look is because it reflects badly on you.”
He shifted gears and accelerated down the hill. As the wind whipped our hair around, he admitted, “Okay, maybe. But can you see why that’s annoying? I put a lot of time and effort into my appearance. Then I open a magazine and see a picture of you, looking like you mugged Paul Bunyan for his giant wardrobe, with the caption ‘Dallas Jaymes spotted running errands in Los Angeles.’ That’s fun.”
“That only happened a couple of times.” He sighed, and I added, “Well, you don’t have to worry about it happening again, now that you’re on an all-steroid diet.”
“Dude, this is the result of hard work, not steroids.”
“Whatever.”
“Not whatever. It’s a fact.” I pulled my phone from my pocket and started composing a text, and he glanced at me and asked, “Am I boring you?”
“I’m sending a message to the guy who takes care of Harper’s pets, so he can let him know where his chicken is. Harper’s really attached to her.”
“Then why’d he name her ‘crazy’?”
“It’s even worse than that. Her full name is El Pollo Loco.”
Dallas grimaced and asked, “Isn’t that the name of a fast food chain here in Southern California?”
“Yup, and it’s famous for its chicken dishes.”
“Alrighty then.” When I chuckled, he asked, “What’s funny?”
“You’re still quoting that Jim Carrey movie we saw when we were ten years old.”
He said, “It’s totally ingrained in me. Remember how hard we laughed the first time we saw that movie?”
“I thought you were going to pee yourself. Then you announced you wanted to become a pet detective like Ace Ventura, so I found you a Hawaiian shirt like his at a garage sale.”
“I loved that shirt. I wonder whatever happened to it. The thing was giant on me, but I bet it’d fit perfectly now.”
I grinned and told him, “You were such a dork.”
“We both were. Remember when you decided you really wanted glasses? You found an old pair of Dad’s and popped the lenses out, and then you wore them everywhere for months.”
“I thought they made me look intelligent.”
“They did, right up until someone noticed they were just empty frames.” We both laughed at that. After a pause, Dallas glanced at me and said, “I’ve missed you, Phoenix.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
“Really?”
“You were always my best friend, Dal. The biggest regret of my life is the way we drifted apart.”
“Mine, too.”
I should have kept my mouth shut, but I just had to set the record straight. “It’s not because I was jealous of your success. I just want to put that out there.”
“I mean…you were a little jealous.”
Even though I instantly bristled at that, I made myself take a breath. After a few moments, I conceded, “Maybe a little.”
“We both started lashing out at each other,” he said. “I’m guilty of it, too.”
I studied his profile and asked, “Why were you lashing out at me?”
“Because I needed you, more than anyone on this planet, and you left me.”
“I did?”
He nodded and pushed his hair from his eyes as we rolled up to a stoplight. “I was so fucking overwhelmed after I signed my first record deal at nineteen. I thought we’d travel that path together, but all of a sudden you were looking at me like I’d betrayed you. I had to take that deal, Phoenix. You know that, right? Mom and Dad were drowning in debt and months behind on their rent. If I didn’t sign that contract and bail them out, all four of us might have ended up homeless.”
I muttered, “I know.”
“Then I gave you a job as my assistant, because you wouldn’t just let me give you money. You told me you didn’t want a handout, so I hired you because it was the only way I could take care of you and make sure you had enough to get by. You probably thought I was patronizing you, but I really needed your help,” he said. “It was all too much for me, and the only time I felt like I