Vicky walks over to my desk, peering over at my phone, she picks it up and holds it out to me.
“You might want to take this call. It’s Jake.”
All I can do is stare down at it like it’s a bomb about to go off.
Why would he do this?
I mean of course it’s awesome and very flattering that he thinks I could do it, but I’ve never written a book before. I write articles. Little ones that fit on the page of a magazine.
I don’t think I can write a book.
Oh God.
I just don’t understand why he’s done this and why he never talked to me about it. He had ample opportunity last night.
All the air has been sucked out of the room. I think I’m having a panic attack or something. I’m going to pass out.
“Take the call,” Vicky urges pushing the phone closer to me. “You can’t pass up this opportunity. The magazine can’t pass up this opportunity, Tru.” She looks at me wistfully.
But I just can’t move my hand to take the phone.
“An opportunity Jake didn’t even offer me himself.” My voice comes out croaky.
My phone stops ringing.
We both look down at it.
Vicky retreats her hand containing my bomb of a phone with it.
“Maybe Jake just wanted to speak to me first. You know with me being your employer. He probably wanted to check it wouldn’t cause any problems with your permanent job here first before offering you the job.”
“Did he say that to you?” I look at her suspiciously.
“Yes, of course he did,” she answers brightly.
She’s so lying. He never asked her. I can’t imagine Jake ever asking anyone for anything.
All he’s done by calling Vicky first, is put me in a position where I can’t say no.
Did he know that would be the case? And if so, then why would he do that?
“Call him back,” Vicky urges.
I shake my head, swallowing down my dry throat. “I don’t think I can. I don’t think I can do this. I can’t write a book, Vicky. I’m a journalist. A music journalist, not a novelist.”
“You can. You are a wonderful writer, my darling.”
I look up at her, mild panic in my eyes. I know what she’s worried about. She’s worried Jake will pull the bio from the magazine if I don’t write it.
But he wouldn’t do that.
“Jake will still have the magazine do the feature, even if I don’t take the job, Vicky. He wouldn’t pull it. I know him.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know, honey, I did sort of get the distinct impression you are part of the deal.”
“Did he say that?”
“Not exactly.”
Yes he did.
Crap.
“Why would he do this?” I say my thoughts out loud.
She smiles. “Maybe he just doesn’t want to let you go this time.”
“So he forces me to write his bio? No, that doesn’t make any sense. I’m his friend. You don’t force people to be your friend. I’d be his friend without this.”
I’m so confused. I need to sit down. I slump back into my chair.
Vicky moves round and leans against my desk. “Maybe he doesn’t just want to be your friend,” she says softly. “And if that is the case, then this way he gets to ensure he sees a lot more of you, for a long while.”
My eyes flash up to hers. “No.” I shake my head. “It’s not that.”
He had the chance to make a move on me last night, and if I’m being truthful, I probably would have kissed him back if he had kissed me, but he didn’t. And that’s how I know that’s not the reason.
I just have no clue what his motive is.
Maybe it’s a genuine one. Maybe he thinks I’m a really good writer.
I scoff at the very thought in my own mind.
“Well for whatever reason he is doing it,” Vicky says. “This is a huge opportunity for you and the magazine as a whole. It can only be a good thing, Tru. And maybe Jake recognises that. He’ll know what this will do for your career. Maybe he just wants to help you. He did say to me that he’s been considering doing a bio for a long while now, and with this tour it’s the right time. It was obviously just good fortune that you met back up with him, or it could be someone else getting to hop on that tour bus.”
Shit. I’m going to have to go on tour with them. Of course.
I’m so screwed.
This morning I was worried I was never going to see him again, and now I’m going to be spending a huge amount of time with him, following him around, watching him, learning all about him, while we tour around some pretty cool parts of the world.
Yes, I am so completely and utterly screwed.
“Call him,” Vicky urges one last time, placing my phone on my desk, tapping her nail on the screen before leaving me to it.
I stare at my phone and then with shaky fingers I pick it up and press redial on his number.
He answers on the first ring.
“Tru,” his voice comes deep and sexy down the line.
“Hi, Jake.”
Silence.
“So…” I say, not really knowing what to say.
“I’m taking it your boss beat me to it?” he states rather than asks.
“She did.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Will you do it – the bio?”