Grumpalicious by Mia Faye

Chapter 3

GENEVIEVE

Not work with my band? That really wasn’t gonna fly with me, we’d been together since college. I had to wrangle with them a lot, but we were in it through thick and thin; we were committed to each other. I had to stand up for my guys.

“Mr. Coltrane, I’m sorry but I’m in a band. I’m not looking to defect.”

“So you’re willing to give up your career for some dudes that would be just as happy playing at a honky-tonk as they would the halftime Superbowl show? They’re small time and you know it. Come on, Genevieve, you understand what I’m offering you here. Let’s not play around, shall we? I’m about to break you as the next big thing. You really wanna give that up for two guys who’d probably leave you high and dry for a six-pack of Bud Light?”

Wow, he was a dick.

“I thought you said that whole douchebag thing was smoke and mirrors?” I cocked my head and called him out.

“Business is business. Tina eventually had to lose Ike and you need to shed the beastie boys. You’re gonna be legendary! Your choice though.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Can I give it some thought and talk it over with them?” I looked deep into his eyes searching for a soul in there somewhere.

“As I said, I want you to come to New York next week and audition. That should give you plenty of time. Now, I’ve finished my drink and I see you’ve almost finished yours. We are well past your midnight curfew, Cinderella. I suggest you call your friends, tell them you’re gonna stay and chill with me and we’ll go up to my room and get more comfortable.”

Oh, Slimy Mc Slimerson.

“Or I’ll go to the Davis’ mansion now and catch you in NYC next week.” I threw back the last of my drink.

“What will it take for you to come to my room with me?” Was he begging?

“It will take nothing. Nothing is going to get me to go up to your room with you. You have an abysmal reputation and as fictional as it might be, a girl can’t be too careful.”

“What do you think is going to happen in my room?” He pretended to be shocked and if I didn’t have my guard up so high, I would have thought that it was funny.

“Nefarious things.” I played along.

“Or we’ll just have some more drinks, you’ll listen to a few songs I want you to hear and maybe we’ll play around—”

“See, that’s where the ‘nope’ comes into play.”

“—with some sounds I want you to try.” He glared at me and I had to laugh. “And I’ll have you know, I can sing too.”

“No, you can’t!” I was genuinely shocked.

“Oh yes, I can. Here, let me prove it.” He winked at me, stood up, and went to the piano situated between a few tables.

Being that it was so late, there were only a few other people still in the bar.

“This should be fun,” I commented as I got up and followed him.

He sat down at the piano and started plunking away and when I say plunking, I mean an orangutan could have played better. He then proceeded to sing Mary Had a Little Lamb at the most god-awful pitch. I was seized by a bout of nervous laughter. I could not stop laughing.

“Oh my God, you cannot sing at all!” I was able to get out between convulsing giggles as he veered the song into his own ridiculous lyrics.

Mary’s fleece was white as snow, but girl, Mary was a THOT ass ho…

And the song went on to describe unmentionable things Mary would do...and I had to stop him. I couldn’t bear it any longer.

“Please stop,” I eased out of my laughter to say.

“Make me…” Suddenly he started singing about things Mary might do with her lamb and I was horrified.

“I’ll do anything to make you stop!” I looked around truly embarrassed.

“Come up to my room.” He stopped playing and stared right at me.

“Will you stop singing about Mary and her...I can’t even say it!” I was so truly embarrassed, though it was funny.

The song was crass but so insanely funny. I could tell Cash was having a good time and it did lighten the mood a lot.

“Yes.”

He brought the cover down over the keys and stood up from the piano.

“And we’re just gonna listen to some songs right?” I knew better than to go to his room with him, but at the moment I felt sort of trapped and he seemed harmless enough, boyish even.

I touched the phone in my pocket just in case. I liked knowing it was there and Peyton would be on the other end in moments should something go wrong. Peyton, Eliza, Harper, and Ophelia were all on high alert, just in case I needed rescuing. I texted Peyton.

Staying with Cash for a little while, I have my dukes up, guns in their holsters, nothing is happening on my watch. You don’t have to wait up.

“Yes. So, are you sending an SOS out to your girls? Right now? I mean that hardly seems necessary.”

“Just resetting the timer.”

“Fine, though I wish you wouldn’t worry them. This might take a while. The elevator is just down this way,” he said before walking off.

I followed him knowing I shouldn’t, but I was a grown adult in charge of my own destiny and so off I went. The elevator ride was as awkward as I expected it would be. We couldn’t just stand there in silence, but what kind of conversation do you have in forty-five seconds. In the movies, we’d just kiss, but since that option was off the table, he went with…

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he just came right out and asked.

“You aren’t trying too hard to shake that disreputable reputation are you?” I teased.

“Well, if you have a boyfriend, you are going to be missing him a lot because as soon as we sign you, you’ll be in New York for the foreseeable future. Boyfriends tend to freak out when their women are hundreds of miles away,” he said with a straight face.

“No worries there,” was all I gave him.

“Good,” and his whole face lit up as the elevator doors opened. “Home sweet home.” I hoped he was kidding.

“You live in a hotel?”

He ushered me down the hall to the penthouse and of course, it was gorgeous. It’s crazy how some people just live with all of this wealth and others are barely making it day to day.

“Feels like it sometimes. What’s your poison? I have everything.” He walked straight over to the small bar in the living area of his room which took up most of the top floor.

“Why?” I asked, awkwardly taking a seat on his overstuffed couch that was so big and obnoxious I thought I might be catapulted to the ceiling if someone sat on the other side. This amusing thought got me worrying that he’d be sitting on the other side eventually, so I discreetly moved to one of the equally overstuffed chairs. Not more comfortable as I sunk down into entirely too much fluff, but infinitely safer.

“I travel a lot as you might imagine. Also, I’m a pretty impressive person and so the hotel staff wants to keep me happy. They give me everything I want, no matter how ludicrous. A fully stocked bar isn’t too much of an ask, though. I mean I could have had a woman waiting in my bedroom...I’m sure they’d supply one if I’d asked.”

I looked at him and he had the audacity to smirk.

“Sort of like a little tyrant king,” I teased, also smirking.

“You sure don’t act like a person who wants a recording contract,” he warned in a way that was borderline scary.

“Sorry, I must not know the protocols for being in such impressive company. Am I supposed to kiss your feet? Lick your boots? Suck your dick? What makes me look more like a woman who wants a record deal?”

“I’ll take door number three…” he said and walked over and handed me a drink. “I took the liberties of deciding for you,” he said as he handed me a clear bubbly libation.

“What is this GHB with a Molly chaser?” I said as he placed the glass in my hand.

“Belvedere and Seven on the rocks, my favorite drink.” He took a seat on the couch after placing the drink in my hand and I praised myself hard for having the foresight to move to the chair. “Don’t get out much do you?” Now he was teasing, and I started to breathe.

“You know how us Texans are…”

“No, I don’t, enlighten me.” Why did I know that was coming?

I sipped my beverage to give me strength enough to keep my head up.

“Seriously, I don’t know how Texans are, I’m from Indiana. I moved to Texas to sing. I wanted to go to Austin, but then got a chance to audition with my guys and since they were already established, I jumped on board and we’ve been playing gigs ever since.” I petered out after saying that knowing the kind of gigs I played wouldn’t even be on his radar.

“Let me guess, dive bars, skating rinks, and high school dances?”

“A little higher brow, but um...yeah.” I took another drink.

“And so, you don’t have a boyfriend, but you’re fucking one of the guys in the band?” He took a drink after dropping that bomb.

“Nope, I don’t fuck anyone.” I looked at him and was being absolutely serious, but he probably wouldn’t believe I was still a virgin.

“Are you a romantic?” His expression slid effortlessly into a lust-stained glare.

“A virgin!” Fuck, why the hell did I tell him that? At this point, I was gulping my drink and he let out a hearty laugh.

“I love your sense of humor. Usually, people are so eager to have me sign them they are quaking in their skin...and they would’ve stayed on the couch,” he sneered. “I’d have my tongue down their throats by now with my cock out ready for round one, but with you, you’re pleasantly unique.”

“Gee thanks.” I set my drink down, already feeling the swirl of drunkenness invading as I hadn’t eaten anything at all that day because I was nervous about my show.

“You’re welcome.” He took another sip as his eyes stayed on me.

“Do you have any nuts or anything in that well-stocked bar of yours? I’m actually starving.” I wouldn’t have ever confessed that if I wasn’t truly ravenous.

“I have nuts…”

“I set myself up for that one.” I looked at him defeated.

“Sure, let’s get you something to eat. I’m hoping you’ll believe I’m a good guy. Maybe feeding you will help. So, what sounds good? The kitchen will make anything, but here’s the actual late-night menu.” He got up and offered me a linen binder with fancy scrolled writing. On it were very simple items, pizza, French fries, Caesar salad, but they were described as if they were foods fit only for the gods. Fresh heirloom tomatoes roasted in garlic truffle aioli, with garden-raised basil and artisan-crafted mozzarella pearls on a crusted, herbed, semolina bread...or pizza.

“Um, this heirloom tomato, fresh truffle aioli number on crusted herbed bread sounds divine and some ginger ale, please?”

“I’ll order two plus some salad... and ginger ale? I only drink ginger ale when I have a tummy ache.” His voice pitched like a toddler, being a weasel.

“Well, maybe I have a bit of a tummy ache,” I scoffed as if insulted.

“You’re probably just hungry.” He leaned into me with such seduction it was almost laughable and so I laughed.

“And so are you. So, let’s get this all aired out. Am I here for a date or a debut? I’m a serious musician…” I blurted out like a soldier running into battle.

“And I’m a serious businessman,” he interrupted. “You are gorgeous, but you know that. To seduce you would be pedestrian, however, acting as two consenting adults I thought you and I might fuck after we finish our pizza.”

Well, that was definitely to the point.

“About that…” I started.

“I thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend?” He egged me on.

“And I thought you said you were trying to be a better man? But I’m thinking that might be impossible.” I countered.

“Well, let’s get some food first and see how I do.” He stood up and keyed something into an iPad on the desk.

It didn’t take long, but I was happy for the respite. When he came back he sat on the couch and again I gave myself a high five for not staying on it. I sipped my drink, though I shouldn’t have.

“So, what do you have against fucking?” he started in.

“I like loving.” I gave him a flirtatious smile.

“Are you Amish?” He seemed amused.

“And if I was?” I bantered to keep his mind on words and not actions.

“Well, good luck in the music industry, sweetheart.” He shook his head.

“And so, do all the people you sign fuck you? I mean did Big Lil’ and QXTC take you to the bone?”

He laughed again. “Nope.”

“So, it’s just the women, how chauvinistic!” I pretended to be affronted.

“Only the sexy ones…and you, Genevieve are one sexy fucking woman, but your name is a mouthful. I wouldn’t be able to scream that out when I shoot my load. Mind if I shorten it to Genni?”

“I don’t mind, my mom calls me Genni, though few others do. I like Genevieve better, but I get your caveman approach to life so if Genni works for you, it’s fine by me. You keep your frank and beans in the can, though. I’m really not down for it.” There I said it.

“Do a little bit of deep-sea diving then?” He leaned back and seemed disappointed.

“I’d like to think I was the kind of woman who could make love to another woman, but I’m just not. I do prefer men, sadly.”

“Why sadly?” He was suddenly interested again.

“Because they are such animalistic baboons.” I shook my head and stood up.

If I engaged in any more sexual banter, I was going to sleep with the guy, and he’d be my first. The penthouse of Cash’s hotel was not the place to hand in my V-card. I’d been waiting for a nice, mostly monogamous guy to sweep me off my feet and Cash Coltrane was not that guy, not even close. I’d done a lot of things sexually and wasn’t afraid of sex, I just felt like giving up the goods needed to be to someone who would cherish them, at least a little. I’d had guys play with my breasts, and I’d been fingered, and kissed...but skin on skin with the Full Monty, that seemed like it needed to be more. I noticed his piano when I walked into the room and so I just sat down and started playing it. I had a ballad I was working on and I thought perhaps that would tame the music mogul a little until I could get my head on straight.