Her Rock Star Friends, page 1
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Her Rock Star Friends
A Reverse Harem Romance
By:
Amanda Horton
PROLOGUE
Tobias
“Now those guys have gone far and will only get bigger.” My best friend, Franklin Alexander, pointed the whiskey in his hand to a ragged group of young men sitting at the edge of the pool.
“Who are they?” I said.
“Banshee,” he said.
“Band what?”
“Banshee. That’s their name. Indiana Dys’s kid Jersey is their guitarist.”
“Wait. Those are the guys that sang Ever?”
“Yup.”
Franklin had been my best friend for the past thirty years. He was my freshman roommate in college. Later, I was the best man at his wedding and then the lawyer for his divorce. Between the nuptials and the divorce, his daughter, Jacine was born.
Jacine was the ostensible reason we gathered here. She just graduated with an MBA from Harvard Business School, an accomplishment he’s boasted about for months. He strutted insufferably when he came from the graduation ceremony in Boston, and planned all summer for this party.
“Hey, Indiana,” said Franklin holding out his arms to one of his clients, Indiana Dys, father of the young Jersey Dys he had earlier pointed out to. The aging rocker was one of Franklin’s first clients and stuck with him all these years.
Indi gave him a huge bro hug. “Great party,” he said.
“Thanks, man.”
“Where’s that daughter of yours?”
“She’s in the house getting her bathing suit on.”
“I never understood it,” said Indi. “Two strips of fabric and it takes them hours to get ready.”
Franklin clapped his hand on Indi’s shoulder. “I suspect that if we understood women, we’d be married.”
Indi chuckled. “I get your point.”
“You know Tobias Marshall, right?”
“Sure,” said Indi sticking out his hand. “You’re Franklin’s lawyer.”
“Actually, I’m on retainer for Alexander & Wells.”
“Yeah,” said Franklin. “Someone had to give him a job.”
“Hmmm,” I replied. “I see a marked increase in billable hours if I have to defend you against a slander suit.”
“How does that work, again?” said Franklin. “I slander you, and you charge me to defend my firm against your suit? Is that even ethical?”
Indi looked at us with incredulity until he realized we were joking. Then he scoffed. “Where’s that old dog, Wells?”
“He’s on vacation,” said Franklin too easily. He took a sip of his whiskey after he told this lie, one of many he’s had to tell to cover up for that ass Wells.
In truth, Wells stopped being a viable part of the company a few years ago. The details on that I can’t talk about, but Wells agreed to leave the business in Franklin’s hands while he took his cut. Franklin, despite his ruthless business sense, is a decent man. Which is why he agreed to represent Indi’s son’s band Banshee.
“Oh, well. Is Jersey here?”
“He’s at the edge of the pool with his friends.”
Indi issued a sharp whistle through his teeth, and a young’s man head whipped toward us. With a wave of his hand, Indi called him over, and his two friends followed.
“How’s it going, Jersey, Cole, Rory?”
“Great, pops.”
“Hi, Mr. D,” said Cole.
“It’s good to see you again, Mr. Dys,” said Rory.
I looked over the three. Jersey was a younger, skinnier, long-haired version of his father. Cole, who walked with the unmistakable swagger of a frontman, was blonde with an untamable mop. He also rimmed his eyes with eyeliner. Rory stood taller than the other two and looked like a Scotsman without a kilt.
“So how is the tour schedule coming along?” said Indi.
“Year five, coming right up. We just finished up the new record, and the label is getting ready to distribute it. We start touring in three weeks.”
“Good,” the elder Dys said with approval.
“I told Tobias here,” said Franklin, “these guys are only going to get hotter.”
“You connected us with a great promoter,” said Jersey.
“I’ll do everything I can for you boys,” said Franklin. “As long as you work hard, I’ll be right there with you, every one of you.”
We stood at the opposite side of the irregularly shaped oval pool and facing the house, and that’s when I got the first glimpse of Jacine. At first, I didn’t recognize her, because the Jacine I knew was as thin as a rail, and her hair was naturally dark as her father’s. But she had colored it, and now she was a California blonde.
A very sexy Cali gal.
Jacine was just a kid when she hugged me goodbye before she went to college, and I hadn’t seen her in the six years she’d been away. At first, because of the blonde hair, I thought I saw Adelaide, Jacine’s mother, but that wasn’t possible. We laid Adelaide to rest eighteen years ago. She hadn’t been divorced from Franklin for even a year before he got a call from a hotel. I went with him. We never talked about how we found her.
As Jacine exited the house her bright smile, uniquely hers, beamed at me, or rather us.
God, how I wanted it to be just me she smiled at.
She waved. Franklin motioned that she should join us.
“Who’s that?” said Jersey. He sounded a little breathless.
“You know her, J,” said Indi. “That’s Jacine.”
“That’s—? Whoa. Little Jacine is all grown up.”
“Down boys,” growled Franklin. “That’s my daughter.”
In the face of a protective father, Jersey declared his thirst and headed for the bar.
“Damn, Franklin,” chuckled Indi.
“That’s my little girl. She’s not going to get involved with a musician. Or anyone in the business here. Jacine’s a smart girl and will find herself a nice doctor, or lawyer, someone level-headed like Tobias, here, just more age appropriate.”
I would have protested but I was too busy watching Jacine. She wore a feather-light yellow beach cover-up, and skimpy yellow bikini and god help me, spiked strappy sandals. The sandals made her legs go on forever, and her tits jiggled as she jogged toward us around the pool. People called her, and she stopped and greeted some of them by throwing her long, lean body against theirs.
My heart caught in my throat, I hated those men that took too much delight in her friendly greeting.
“And how, do you intend to stop her from doing that?” said Indi.
“I’m putting her to work in the firm. The New York office. Any celebrity she works for will be officially off-limits. And the celebrities, we don’t represent? She’ll need to keep a professional face with them for the firm’s good.”
“That’s devious,” said Indi.
“Just part of my charm,” said Franklin.
“Hey, baby,” said Franklin opening his arms to his daughter.
She gave him a hug and peck on the cheek.
“Hey, dad. Great party. Everyone is here.”
“Sure, there’s even—” started Franklin, but Jacine turned to me and flung her arms around my neck.
I stopped breathing.
“Uncle Tobias! I haven’t seen you forever.”
My brain scrambled, my cock twitched, and I had to stop this right now before I embarrassed us all. I have watched Jacine toddle her first steps, taught her how to ski, and sat with Franklin while he fretted when she went to prom.
How can I react like this to a girl that was supposed to be like a daughter? My stomach curdled, and I clutched my stomach.
“Are you okay, Uncle Tobias?” said Jacine with alarm.
Franklin glanced at me. “It’s probably heatstroke. Sit down, buddy.” He snapped his fingers at one the waiters circling the area. “Bring him a ginger ale.”
“No, Franklin. I think I should just go home.”
“Nonsense. Sit on the chaise. Jacine will look after you, won’t you, daughter?”
“Absolutely,” she said with concern in her voice.
She led me to the edge of the patio where a bank of pointy Cypress trees struggled valiantly to provide shade under the unforgiving California sun. Unseasonably hot at ninety-five degrees we were all sweating. Franklin had every reason to assume heat stroke hit me instead of the heat of my desire for his daughter. The waiter brought the ginger ale and I sucked it down.
“You should sit, Uncle Tobias.”
I wanted her to stop calling me “Uncle Tobias,” and look at me as a man, not a substitute father figure.
“I’m fine,” I said.
A party-goer called her name and she twisted. The sun hanging from behind the Cypress trees caught the curve of her breast and her blonde hair giving both an angelic glow.
My breath quickened and dear God, now I must sit on one of the chaise lounges.
She turned swiftly and glanced at me with concern. My traitorous cock twitches as I fight my rising need for her.
“Be right back,” Jacine said. And s
But I don’t.
Jacine returned and sat on the chaise, her thighs touching mine, as wet and cold hit the back of my neck.
“There, Uncle Tobias. I got you an ice pack.”
Damn fucking Uncle Tobias.
“Thank you, Princess.”
It was my nickname for her as she grew, because, damn it, she was a princess, with the looks and money to go with it. But more than that, I realize now she could command me to do anything.
And I’d do it, like when she was sixteen and crashed her father’s Jag. I confirmed what the police report said that she swerved to avoid hitting a deer. It was the only time I lied to Franklin, and he accepted my pronouncement as if I told him that the price of real estate was rising.
I’m all too aware that her thigh is pressing into mine, and her hand is on my neck, and her sexy scent wafts into my nostrils. Jacine is not a little girl but a grown woman and my heart speeds like a racehorse that just ran the Belmont. It is a damn good thing I’m sitting because my dick is stiff and beginning to throb. I shift my seat to cover my excitement and swallow hard.
“You should go spend some time with your friends,” I said. “You don’t need to hang around with an old man like me.”
Her eyelids fluttered as she cast her eyes to her feet, and her cheeks blushed.
“I never think of you as an old man, Uncle Tobias.”
She spoke softly, her voice trembling slightly, and I can’t help but wonder if she felt the same way about me as I do about her. But she couldn’t. Jacine is young, smart and gorgeous and deserves a young man like herself.
“But I am,” I said.
She laughed gently, almost ruefully.
“Do you remember when I was five I said I’d marry you if I didn’t marry my father?”
My breath hitched. Oh damn. We are not having this conversation. Then I found Franklin staring at us. His face darkened and I smiled wanly to reassure him. If he knew the thoughts I had about his daughter, he would murder me.
“No,” I said.
The tiniest bit of disappointment seemed to tug at her eyes, but then she smiled brightly.
“Of course not. It was a bit of silliness on my part.”
Her sparkling blue eyes caught mine and I couldn’t tear my gaze from hers. And at this moment I knew that to the depths of my soul, I loved Jacine Alexander as a man loves a woman.
I am so glad that she’s going away to New York City. Otherwise, I’d make a big fool of myself and lose everything I ever worked for.
CHAPTER ONE
Jacine
I scrunched the hard copy of today’s Variety between my hands as the plane landed at LAX. The jolt of the aircraft hitting the runaway did nothing to relieve my pounding heart. Flying didn’t bother me but the newspaper’s headline did.
Three Rock Bands Trade Blows in Eatery
Not three rock groups, but key members of three of the hottest rock sensations in the US, Arcane, Clash, and Obsidian raged at each other. The insane violence spurred customers to run screaming from the trendy restaurant, Angelo’s.
Not an eatery, I thought wryly. The Angelo family will hate that.
A few though, including the ever-present paparazzi, snapped with bacchanalian delight pics and videos that flashed through social media almost as immediately as the event happened.
Welcome to the Information Age.
Tucking the trade rag in my purse, I prepared to flee from this seat with relief. I had spent the past six hours in it miserably scrunched between two hefty women. In a hurry to get to LA, I took an economy class seat, a mistake I will never repeat. My thoughts swirled in a mess as chaotic as the passengers trying to disembark.
PR Head Suffers Cardiac Event after Three Clients Come to Blows.
That sidebar story was the piece that made my heart race. My father was there sitting in a business meeting with a potential client when the three rockers started the ruckus.
In thirty years of public relations, Franklin Alexander witnessed untold absurdities. Some of his customers practiced little discretion. His no-nonsense wrangling of stories and clients saved many celebrities from ruin. That and a rare reputation for honesty in the land of stars made him one of LA's top spin-masters.
I sympathized with Franklin Alexander, my father, but not Franklin Alexander, the businessman. I warned him that taking on the three musicians at once would cause trouble.
But I was too professional to give him a deserved dose of “I told you so.” My father schooled me in every angle of the business and I worked hard to prove my worth as the head of the New York office of Alexander and Wells. Though he would argue, running the New York office was more difficult than the LA branch. The New York celebrity base sprang from deep roots in music and theater, with a few cultivated from the film industry. That crowd demanded stability, reliability, and solid results for their cash. It was a jittery atmosphere compared to freewheeling LA, where anything was on the table, including a few lines of pearly white coke.
I stepped off the plane in Louboutin spiked heels and took the crowded concourse in quick New York long strides that outpaced more leisurely West Coast residents. Anson, the family limo driver answered my phone call immediately.
“I’m here. I’ll meet you at departures.”
“Do you need me to get your bags, Miss Alexander?”
“Not to worry. No time to pack.”
My next call was to my stylist, which went to voice mail.
“Hi, Rose. It’s Jacine Alexander. Just got back into town. Please curate a current West Coast wardrobe for night and day, including underwear as soon as possible. Oh, and I lost ten pounds, so size it accordingly. Since I’ll be at the hospital with Dad for most of the day, just drop off the collection at the house. Thanks.”
Anson drove to the entrance, and I didn’t wait for him to open the door, but barreled into the vehicle.
“The hospital, please, Anson.”
“Yes, Miss Alexander. But you should let me get the door.”
“New York changes a person. You become more self-reliant.”
“And quicker, too,” he said with a mischievous grin.
I smiled for the first time since starting this trip. Anson wasn’t just an employee. He was family. Anson worked for the Alexander family for as long as I could remember.
His tone dropped. “Is there news about Mr. Alexander? The staff won’t tell me.”
