“Hey! I’ve been trying to reach you. You’re not working today, are you?”
“Not really. Just wrapping up. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to talk to you. You know, about finding you an assistant? Remember, we talked about that…?”
Oh. “Right.”
The assistant.
Definitely hadn’t been on my mind. But now I remembered.
Several months ago—actually, half a year ago or so—my little sister had asked me if she could help hire me an assistant. After she’d tried so hard to fill that position herself last summer, I may have felt a little guilty. I knew she was just trying to help me. So, I’d agreed to discuss it with her when I was finished the album.
Well, it was finished.
I had about thirty-eight more hours, officially, obligation free, before I got started on my next project. And she knew it. Her boyfriend was a member of the Players, and she knew exactly when they were going into the studio.
“Is this a good time?” she asked me, carefully.
“Sure. I’ve just got a minute.”
“Okay. I’ll make it fast. I’m sending someone over to meet with you on Monday,” she said, quickly, like she was afraid I’d cut her off. “Just for a quick chat. She’s an executive assistant. I’ve just asked her to meet with you so she can figure out what kind of assistant would be ideal for you, because let’s face it, I have no idea what I’m doing. Then she’s going to help me hire someone perfect.”
“Okay.” I wedged the phone between my ear and my shoulder so I could roll up my sleeves; I had no idea what the weather was like, but it was probably warm.
“Her name is Taylor,” she went on. “She’s a friend of Ashley Player’s wife… Actually, her best friend.”
Great. Now I had to be nice to this girl.
“Okay,” I repeated, though I really didn’t want an assistant. It wasn’t the worst idea I’d ever heard, but I had zero desire to deal with another person’s bullshit in my space.
I could barely deal with my own bullshit.
“I’ll let you know what time to expect her.”
“Sure. Sometime in the morning would be good.” So I can get this over with.
“Okay, for sure. I’ll tell her.”
I forced out a “Thanks,” because I knew Courteney was doing this out of the goodness of her heart. My little sister always had a good heart. And she really didn’t have to be spending her time on this. On me.
“So…” she said. “Now that the album is done… you must be happy?”
“Yeah.”
Actually, I wasn’t happy at all. The album had turned out phenomenal, because I would never release anything that was less than phenomenal. But by the end of the project I could barely stand the guys in the band. Plus, now that it was done and I was officially between projects, even if it was only for two days, it put me in a shitty position. No work to bury myself in meant a lot of hours on the clock to think about other shit.
Like the fact that it was Saturday night and there was a listening party for the first couple of singles off the Static Ice Diva’s album, pre-release. The party was down in L.A. and I’d been invited, of course, but I wasn’t going.
I wondered if Courteney knew that.
Countless people had messaged me about the party over the last few days, casually probing to find out if I was coming without actually asking me if I was coming. I probably should’ve just turned off my phone, but somehow, I’d always had a hard time doing that. Even if I rarely answered it.
“Well, would you want to celebrate with me and Xander tonight?” Courteney asked. “We could come over. Have a drink out by the pool? It’s a beautiful night.”
“Yeah, it is.” To tell the truth, I hadn’t even looked out a window all day. “I think I’m just gonna turn in early. You know, catch up on some sleep.”
“Oh. Sure. Maybe another time.”
The disappointment in her voice would’ve probably killed me a little if I wasn’t so used to it that I’d become almost numb to it.
“Look, I’ve gotta go. Have a few things to wrap up here for the album release, then I’m going to bed.” Yeah; lying to my sister when she was always trying so damn hard to be nice to me, no matter how I disappointed her, probably made me a special kind of asshole.