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“I was sure you weren’t gonna show up.” A gruff voice reached her ears from behind, and a smile came on her face as she saw Don approaching her with a glass of champagne.
“Hey, Don. I was just asking Mickey about you.”
“Well… he is rarely aware of what he himself is up to, so…” He let out a slight laugh. “Have you been here long? Did the car pick you up okay?”
“Yes, Don. Thanks for sending it. Haven’t been here long, but I was getting lost in this sea of strangers.” Rory exhaled.
“Yeah these things can be like that, but you get used to it. Especially when you realize that everyone else at the party is probably way more self-conscious than you are.”
“Really? All these pretty, well-dressed people look like they have everything sorted in their lives.” Rory looked around the party.
“There is always more to it than meets the eye. The surface of the sea is never a good reflection of what lies at the bottom.” Don smiled.
“Does that apply to you too?” Rory chuckled.
“Me? Oh no. I am just a simple farm boy from Kansas.” He smiled.
“Really? No way!”
“Yes way. Why do you think I like LA so much? Because Kansas is even more dreary.” He laughed and the way he said it made Rory laugh as well.
“Speaking of dreary…” Don said to himself and looked out toward the entrance. A tall blonde woman dressed to the nines entered, followed by her entourage who reminded Rory of little minions.
“I think I’ve seen her somewhere,” she thought out loud, and then it came back to her. She was the woman she spotted the other day when she had met Arsen at Mike’s garage. The woman who had the paparazzi following her. Rory also remembered that after spotting the blonde Arsen had seemed to be in a hurry to get away from the place.
“I am surprised you don’t know her, but then again, I’m not. That, Rory, is Tanya Cox. Heiress to the Cox hotel chain empire. Reality TV star, singer, actress, and Go
d knows what else. Though if she is good at any of that is a whole different discussion.”
“Well, she surely seems to be the centerpiece of this party,” Rory said and took a sip of the bubbly.
“She is—and that's not an accident. She knows what she’s doing. There is not an event in the world she won’t go to for PR mileage,” Don said, with what seemed to Rory like a certain sense of disdain.
“I guess some people have all the luck in the world,” Rory sighed.
“If I had her luck, I’d be doing better things with my life than mimicking Barbie doll songs while prancing half naked around the stage.” Don continued, a half smile back on his face. “I remember back in the 60s and the 70s, it was all about the music. Nobody cared about PR or Instagram or whatever. It was all about good times and meaningful music that spoke to your soul. Since then, apart from the songs Arsen writes, no other music has truly spoken to me.”
Rory realized that Don was not just a manager of the biggest band in the world, but also someone who loved their music. Someone who cared about his clients, especially one of them.
“Arsen seems to be the perfect rock god from LA,” Rory remarked, and then blushed, wondering why she had said that out loud.
“Far from it. There is much more to Arsen Ford than people know. He is no degenerate rockstar born on Sunset Boulevard.” Rory wasn’t sure, but she had a feeling that Don was referring to Mickey and his lifestyle.
“If I am still a farm boy from Kansas, then Arsen is still the small town boy from Iowa—as much as he might dislike admitting it. But I admire that man. He has suffered far too many losses in life and has still come out on top. I just wish he would give himself some credit at times.”
Rory simply couldn’t put Arsen and “a small town boy” together. He looked and acted like he was made to be a rockstar since the day he was born. Everything about the man oozed raw sexuality, masculine dominance, and an unshakeable sense of confidence.
“Are you sure we are talking about the same Arsen?” Rory chuckled and Don laughed.
“Yes, my dear. That man has worked his way to the top and on the way, he has been a bartender, a roadie, and God knows what else. Anyone else would’ve given up halfway. He’s just having a tough time of late as he deeply cares about his music… but he’ll get out of this funk too. I will make sure he does.” There was a sense of determination in Don’s eyes.
“Amen to that, Don.” Rory raised her glass. They both drank in silence for a minute. There were a lot more people at the party now, and Rory struggled to take it all in. To anybody that was there, it was clear that Tanya Cox was indeed the center of attention. In a crowded party, it was as if she had a no-fly zone around her which others were scared to enter without her approval.
“Here comes trouble,” said Don, as he took a sip of his drink. Rory noticed Tanya Cox making her way toward them, a smile on her face and a confidence in every step she took. Her dress was probably worth more than what Rory made in a year.
“Uncle Don.” Her face went into a practiced smile. Pearly whites shined through, on a canvas of perfect complexion. Rory wondered how tall she was or rather, how tall the heels she was wearing were.
“Hello Tanya. Glad you could make it,” Don said in his polite, businesslike manner.
