Excerpt: One Hit Wonder
Book 2: Rock Stars in Love
Boss/Secretary
Chapter One
IN RETROSPECT, SHE should have expected to find Damon Suarez in the hot tub—naked.
At least this time there wasn’t a group of bikini-clad women with him. Although, now that she thought about it, there hadn’t been any woman—singular or plural—in the last six months.
Jane kept her gaze away from the water. She really didn’t need to see if her boss had tan lines or not. She already knew the answer.
No tan lines.
Anywhere.
Instead she looked at another body of water: the Pacific Ocean. Damon’s mansion was set up and away on a winding hill, minutes away from the Malibu shore. The left side of his house was all glass—there was a button that lowered a shade when he wanted privacy.
Not that Damon ever seemed to want privacy of any sort.
Over the last two years as Damon Suarez’s personal assistant, Jane had learned to expect the unexpected. More often than not the unexpected was Damon behaving in some outrageous manner that would grab the media’s attention.
He hadn’t glanced up when she’d entered. No surprise there. It was a Damon Suarez world and anyone else who entered his atmosphere merely existed for his amusement.
Jane frowned. That wasn’t fair to him at all.
Damon was a good boss—she’d heard horror stories from other personal assistants about what their famous employers made them do. Unlike others, he was clean and never made her run out to buy drugs or hire any hookers. And he wasn’t abusive. He was just outlandish, which she’d known about when she had first heard about the job.
She really hadn’t expected him to hire her. He was all flash, glorying in the spotlight, even though he hadn’t released anything since his number one song, “Luv is Love,” when Damon had been a teen idol. He was now thirty-six and was still making money off that song.
While many artists might revile at being called a “one hit wonder,” Damon loved it. He would go on tour and perform his self-titled album, always ending on that particular song; the audience would join in on the chorus and dance in the aisles. Not only was “Luv is Love” still popular—current famous artists covered the song, the latest being pop singer Evie Morgan—but Damon had also created a new dance move in the music video: The Glide.
Dubbed the new Moonwalk, The Glide was a cross between a step in the waltz and hip hop. It was supposed to look effortless even as your feet did crazy things below. Jane still thought it looked like one had to go the bathroom really, really, really bad.
And his clothes . . . well, she’d never known a man so confident in his masculinity to pull off some of the outfits he wore. That man seemed unable to say no to a brightly colored satin shirt or a pair of impossibly tight jeans. There had been many times when she’d hidden his Fedora on him because, really, it was a Fedora.
After she interviewed with him, she expected him to go with someone more willing to put up with his antics, and someone way more qualified. But he’d selected her, saying, “I have a good instinct about you, and I like Virgos.”
That sort of logic baffled her.
Damon’s eyes were still closed, his expression relaxed. His head rested against the tub’s ledge, his dark brown hair falling over his forehead. He still hadn’t shaved, the stubble threatening to soon become a close-cropped beard. With his steady breathing, she wondered if he’d fallen asleep. Except . . .
There was a smile playing about his mouth.
He wouldn’t be smiling for long.
“Damon.” Jane willed herself to relax, but her muscles refused to obey. “Do you have a moment?”
“For you, Timmons? Always. But make me a drink, will you?”
“Sure.”
“And don’t forget the umbrella. I love those things.”
Him and his umbrella drinks.
She went over to the bar area, which given the open plan of his home, was in plain view of the hot tub, and got out a large glass.
“On the rocks?”
He arched an eyebrow, not even opening his eyes. “That’s what the usual entails, Timmons.”
Jane used a pair of tongs to reach into the ice bucket to grab some cubes.
“Make sure there are only three cubes. Three’s my lucky number, you know.”
Jane bit her tongue as she dropped the ice into the glass. Of course she knew how many ice cubes he wanted. She’d made it her job to notice what he liked and disliked.
She reached into the mini-fridge below and grabbed what she needed. She laid out the ingredients on the smooth, black bar. She uncapped the carton of milk and poured it into the glass. Then she reached for the bottle of . . .
Hershey’s chocolate sauce and squeezed a healthy dollop into the milk.
Only Damon would ask for chocolate milk on the rocks with a mini umbrella.
She stirred the drink, making sure it was well mixed. For the finishing touch, she added a bright pink mini umbrella. Carrying the drink in her right hand, she headed to the hot tub. Damon was all smooth, sleek muscles, his skin a burnt gold, darkened from the sun.
And he was watching her.
