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Phillip
Myshoulderhashada guitar over it for most of my life. By the time I was old enough to pick one up, I loved it enough to never put it down. You'd think I'd be used to the weight and the feeling of the strap cutting into me, but lately, it's aching for the first time since I was a kid.
I'm getting old. My hair is more gray than black now, my kid is a grown woman, and my songs are called "classics." I'm becoming a fucking antique before my very eyes, and my assistant seems to get more beautiful every day. How's that for karmic justice?
"Okay, so this week is pretty light." Jules' eyebrows are furrowed, her eyes darting back and forth over her tablet's screen. Today she's wearing tie-dye overalls over a white t-shirt, and her brown curls have been tamed into two long braids.
The fact my cock has been hard as a rock since she arrived is frankly embarrassing. I can't help it, though. There hasn't been a single day she's worked for me that I haven't been gone for Juliet. The overalls, the sneakers with fuzzy laces, the row of colorful piercings up her ears, all of it is so cute and authentic andher.
My whole damn life is about appearances. I doubt I have a single t-shirt that wasn't carefully selected by my stylist and tailored to perfectly fit my body. Juliet's refusal to fall in line and not wear $200 yoga pants like every other woman in this city is the sexiest thing about her.
"You're coming with me to Montreal. For that awards show?" I don't actually need her there. I'll be flying in, showing my face at this thing for a few hours, then getting right back on a plane back to LA, but I can't resist stealing a few hours together in the quiet, darkened jet. I told her years ago I prefer to fly at night, so now she schedules it that way whenever possible, but the truth is I don't care either way. Like the overgrown creep I am, I just love watching her asleep in the seat across from mine.
Jules nods automatically, making a note on the tablet screen. "We actually have the next morning off, so we can stay in the city if you want, go to that place with the amazing bagels, and then fly home?"
Oh, hell yes.
"Definitely," I confirm, finally giving it up and pulling my guitar strap over my head to set the instrument on the stand beside me. We're standing in my home recording studio, waiting for Caleb, Zach, and Riley to appear. The show ended late last night, and we flew directly home, landing at dawn. My knuckles are painfully stiff, and I feel like I'm recovering from some major illness. The memory of my fist sinking into Penn's face, the words Daisy and I exchanged, combined with the rush of the show…. I don't remember ever being so tired.
None of the guys know what happened yet. Penn and Daisy are practically family to them. It won't stay a secret for long, especially if they keep seeing each other. I just can't bring myself to break the news to them, as if not acknowledging it means it isn't really happening.
Juliet looks up at me, as tuned in as she always is to the tiny fluctuations of my mood that seem to go right over the heads of everyone else in my life. "Are you okay?" Her big blue eyes search my face. "Have you…. talked to them?"
How well this woman knows me is one of the best and worst things about her. I can hide from everyone else, but not Juliet. Usually, it's a relief, but at times like this, I wish she would care just a little less and let me wallow in my denial.
"No," I answer shortly, looking away to avoid the feeling she's seeing so much more than I want her to. I'm not proud of how I behaved, and the fury and sting of betrayal toward my oldest friend still haven't entirely abated. I've texted Daisy five times since I woke up, and she hasn't responded to a single one of them. Not that I blame her after the way I behaved.
In the corner of my eye, Jules sets down her tablet, looking concerned. "Phillip, I meant what I said last night. It's going to be okay. The tour kicks off in a few weeks, and I really think-"
I can't stand this. I don't deserve her comfort, her friendship. Juliet doesn't know the way I think about her. She doesn't know that despite keeping up appearances, I haven't been with another woman since the first time I saw her face or that I have to jerk myself off twice a day to thought of pounding it into her perfect little mouth or pussy or ass. My own kid believes what she read in the tabloids, and my past behavior as good as confirms it. I've been a terrible friend, father, and boss.
I don't deserve to breathe the same air as Juliet. I can't fucking take it anymore.
"Stop! Just stop!" I bark so abruptly that Juliet jumps, staring at me with wide, startled eyes. "Don't fucking look at me like that, Juliet. I'm a piece of shit.So treat me like it."
There's a moment when I think I've won, that she's finally had enough and is going to walk away for once, but instead, my fierce little assistant raises herself to her full height, glaring at me. "Are youkidding me, Phillip Lowell?" She plants her hands on her hips. "That'swhat you're going with?" She deepens her voice in a poor imitation of me."Oh, I'm a piece of shit, that's just what everyone expects of me, so I guess that's just that."
I grit my teeth, determined to stay pissed off, even though in the back of my mind, I know I'm being a coward. "You don't know what you're talking about."
Juliet lets out a shrill, harsh laugh. "I don't know what I'm talking about. Phillip? I buy your underwear."
"I pay you to buy my underwear, you little shit-"
"Little shit? Seriously? Reaching the bottom of the insult barrel with that one, Lowell. What's next? Poop face?"
God damn it. How the hell am I supposed to argue with this woman? She hasn't let me get away with a single bit of shit since the day I hired her. "You're fired." I bite back in desperation, not really expecting it to work.
Sure enough, Juliet rolls her eyes but otherwise ignores me completely. "Tell yourself whatever you want. The truth is, you had Daisy super young and right in the middle of a huge, turbulent time in your life while navigating your own trauma. You raised herby yourself,Phillip. That is so crazy and hard, but you did it. Were you a perfect parent? Of course not. Butyou're sober now. Your relationship isn't beyond repair, so stop acting like it is!"
I rub my hands roughly over my face, desperately trying to clear my head from the fog of self-pity and exhaustion I've been in all day. "Could you justleave?" I beg halfheartedly. Apparently, whatever was left of thefightin my fight or flight response has run out, and I'm now going to beg my assistant to leave my home. I have a damn security team. If I actually wanted her gone, she would be.
Juliet sighs and crosses the thick carpet between us, reaching up. She reaches out to weave her finger through mine, and a tiny bit of the tension leaves my body from the tiny contact. "I'm sorry," I say weakly. Finally finding the courage, I look up to meet Juliet's bright blue eyes. We're standing so close, she's touching me, and all I can think about is closing the distance between us, sealing our bodies together, and touchall of her.It's always been like this. Just shy of enough.
The corner of my beautiful assistant's lips lifts into a soft smile. "You've had a rough few days."
I have, but that doesn't excuse snapping at her. "Let me make it up to you." Unable to help myself, I reach up to tug playfully on the end of one of her braids. "I'll take you to dinner at that unholy place you like with the french fries on the sandwiches."
Outside the room, there's a clatter of footsteps, and we both look up in time to see the drummer of Enflamme, Riley, entering the room. "Sorry, I'm late." He mutters, dropping a bag full of shit in the middle of the floor. Then, realizing we're still missing Caleb and Zach, Riley frowns. "Where is everyone?"
