Chapter 1

Brianna followed the receptionist down a long hallway, composing what she would say in her head. God! I hope I get this job! She’d needed to make a fresh start, try something different, see new things and places and when she saw the ad in the paper, she knew it would be perfect for her – something new, but also a little familiar. When a little sleuthing revealed who had placed the ad she’d had to re-think whether applying was really a good idea, but in the end, she couldn’t resist the challenge. It was exactly the chance she’d been looking for – provided she could keep it together and not gush all over him. She knew that if she got the job, familiarity would settle her nerves around him, but she had to get through the interview first.

As they neared the door at the end of the hallway they could hear his raised voice even through the thick wood. He definitely wasn’t happy about something! So the stories are true! It didn’t really bother her – she’d dealt with difficult, temperamental bosses before. And if this one turned out to be a lech, at least he was a good looking one. The receptionist gave her an apologetic look and knocked on the door.

“Come in!”

“Excuse me boss, the next applicant for the assistant position is here.”

“Thanks Evelyn, show her in.”

“Good luck,” Evelyn murmured to her as she waved her in, then backed out of the office, closing the door behind her. She wasn’t sure if Evelyn was wishing her luck with getting the job or surviving the interview.

He was still on the phone, but waved her to a seat.  She looked around the office, noting the awards on the wall, not surprised to see the humanitarian ones taking precedence over the music related ones. His desk was large and surprisingly organized considering the many different projects he was involved in. Pictures of his wife and children sat on the credenza behind him. It all looked neat and tidy, but didn’t have the feeling of being well used, and she had to wonder how much time he spent here. She took the opportunity while he was distracted to take a good look at him, hoping to get over her initial rush of excitement before she had to actually speak to him.

He was sitting in a large swivel chair, bathed in the bright early June afternoon sunshine streaming through the window behind him, raking his free hand through his hair – slightly longer now than during the tour, but still disappointingly dark. Those mesmerizing blue eyes were slightly darker than they appeared in pictures, but she didn’t know if that was some trick of the camera’s or if they were darker now because he was angry. And they were like shards of glittering ice.

“I told you, I’ve got a meeting in Philly at three. How the hell am I supposed to be in New York at four? Click my heels together three times and wish I was home? I ain’t got no fucking ruby slippers genius! Let me know when you come up with a schedule that has some basis in reality!” He slammed the phone down. Sighing, he raised his head and pinned her with a glance. “What would you do if a reporter wanted to do an interview at the same time that I had a meeting in Philadelphia?”

Ah, so that’s why he brought me in here before he was finished his conversation. I guess the interview has begun. “How urgent is the interview? I mean, is it to promote a specific event or is it just a general interview?”

“The new album’s coming out in a couple months.”

She nodded, her expression thoughtful. “And how urgent is the meeting in Philly?”

“We’re debriefing the Soul’s inaugural season.” He paused. “Do you know about the Soul?”

Brianna nodded again – she’d done her homework before arriving for the interview. “Your arena football team.”

“Good. Well, anyway, we need to discuss last season and plans for next season. Also, I’ve got an idea for a charitable foundation I want to run by the others.”

“Okay…so reschedule the interview. Maybe do it in Philly after the meeting or another day when you have time.”

“And if the reporter won’t reschedule?”

She shrugged. “Then he or she doesn’t get the interview. They work around your schedule, you don’t work around theirs. They need you more than you need them. If they don’t want to cooperate, their competition would be more than happy to, I’m sure, which would not make their editor happy.”

“Thank you! At least somebody gets it!” He picked up her resume which was lying on the desk in front of him. “So…Brianna, is it?” She nodded. “You have all the right qualifications, but I’d like you to tell me in your own words why you want this job.”

While he waited for her answer he let his gaze skim over the woman on the other side of his desk. Her hair was pulled back from her face and pinned up in some twisty style he was sure he had seen his wife wear on occasion. She shifted, bringing her head into a shaft of sunlight and he realized that what he had originally thought was brown was actually dark auburn, the buried fire providing a nice contrast to the light grey suit that hugged her toned, yet generous curves. The little voice in the back of his mind - or someplace further south – speculated on the length and texture of her shining locks…and whether she had the passionate temperament that supposedly went with the rich colour. As attractive as all that was, it was her eyes, set above a delicate nose and perfect bow mouth with full bottom lip, that intrigued him the most. Not brown, not hazel. The best description he could come up with was…amber.   He idly wondered if they’d glow, and under what circumstances. When he realized where his thoughts were drifting, he struggled to bring them back to the matter at hand. None of those kinds of thoughts. Remember you’re a happily married man…with a wife who would seriously hurt you if you tried to tap that! Go down that path and you’ll be living with Copper!

Brianna took a moment to compose her thoughts. “Well, as you can see, my experience has been mostly in large corporations. I want to try something different, with more diversity, something more in touch with people, and in an industry that interests me.”

“So you’re a music fan? Who do you like?”

“Besides Jovi, you mean?” She grinned.

The use of the truncated version of the name branded her as more than just a casual fan, which raised a few alarm bells. “Good answer. Yeah, who else?”

“My taste runs to classic rock. Aerosmith, Foreigner, Boston. And I was a teenager in the eighties, so naturally, hair bands are up there on my list.”

He snorted softly. “Naturally. What about more current artists?”

Brianna grimaced. “Nickelback, Green Day’s not bad, although the lead singer is an ass.” She shrugged. “To be perfectly honest, there’s not a lot out there right now that impresses me.  The bulk of it is becoming too techno for me. All the songs sound the same.  There’s no real melody to it.”

Jon nodded at the echo of his own thoughts on the subject. But of course he could never say it publically – that wouldn’t be good PR. “Interesting.” He paused, then turned the discussion to his other passion. “What’s your opinion on celebrities getting involved in philanthropic pursuits?”

“In this country, in this day and age, no one should be unable to provide basic requirements for survival for themselves and their families. Unfortunately, far too many fall short, due to lack of education or skills or just opportunity.  If those that have the means to help don’t, who’s going to? And it’s not only celebrities. It’s businesses and government as well. But I believe in a hand up, not a hand out. To paraphrase the saying, don’t give them fish, teach them to fish. The problem with a lot of the charities out there is that they spend so much of the money they collect on administration that it’s hard to determine how much actually gets to the people who need it.  I think the situation needs a fresh approach.” She shrugged. “I just don’t know what that might be.”

Throughout her speech, Jon listened with rapt attention. Here was someone who would understand what he wanted to try to do. “I know exactly what you mean! You might be interested in an idea I have.”

They spent the next hour discussing and debating various aspects of his idea and developed the bones of a proposal.

Jon glanced at the clock on the wall and was startled to see how long they’d been talking. It had been a long time since he’s connected with someone that quickly. “Sorry, we kind of got off topic. Do you have any questions about the job?”

“How…involved….do you want your assistant to be?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve worked for one CEO who only wanted me to set up or confirm the events, but didn’t need me to attend them, and I’ve had bosses who wanted me beside them for everything, and wanted me to buy birthday, anniversary and Christmas presents for their families. I was just wondering where you fell in that spectrum.”

“Probably somewhere in the middle. We’ll have to play it by ear a bit and learn as we go. I probably won’t need you at every event locally, but tours are a must. Will that be a problem?”

“No Sir. I just updated my passport. It’s all good.”

“Good. And please drop the ‘Sir’. I’m just Jon.”

She smiled and nodded at that. “Okay….Jon.”

“And I will never ask you to shop for my family. I do that myself.” He paused and her smile widened.

“But you might need the occasional reminder that you need to go shopping?”

He laughed. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“That won’t be a problem.” She assured him. “What about the other band members?”

“What about them?”

“Do they have their own assistants or would I be looking after them as well?”

“Richie and David have their own assistants, but they need all the help they can get, so you may get called in once in a while. Tico looks after himself.”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

Jon ended the interview, telling her that he would make a decision and she would hear from him in the next few days.