Hot Southern Mess (Hide Your Crazy) (4 page)

Sliding off my thin
sweater, I flopped myself into the black leather arm chair next to the window. This was going to be amazing; exactly what my life needed. “Cold As Ice” by Foreigner rang through my phone speakers, signifying my mother was calling. Gritting my teeth, I pulled it from my pants pocket, narrowing my eyes at the screen.

“Hello M
other.”

“Where in the hell are you
, Molly Anne McGlenister? You have some explaining to do young lady.”

Chapter 4
: If you land your dream job, make sure you wear panties.

I had been in the city for a full week now and actually accomplished a lot more than I planned on. Okay, well maybe not really a lot. But I did have an apartment to call home, and had done a little shopping to stock up on the colder climate attire, since my wardrobe was seriously lacking in that department.  This city really was perfect for me; it’s like I was meant to be here all along. No longer was I looked down upon for my clothing choices or my purple hair. My nose ring was on the tamer side of piercings I noticed when out and about, and I had only spoken to my mother once. Pretty sure that constitutes as a kickass play in my book. Seattle screamed freedom, and I was going to go right along with it.

The sheer amount of Starbucks in an area should be alarming. But for a woman who loved coffee, I should just be thankful that I could get it really whenever the hell I wanted. The apartment I rented in the University District came partially furnished, so I didn’t really have to make any larger purchases in the furniture sense. However, I did score an epic painting of a techno colored cat, something my mother would surely despise of. Sure, there were tons of college students milling about, but none of them complained when I played Simon at midnight. As long as I didn’t whine about their raging parties, they didn’t care about me playing music. I do believe that was a win-win situation for everyone at the end of the day.

The best news I got since the flight attendant said “welcome to Seattle” was that m
y beautiful car would be delivered sometime next week. It cost me a small fortune to have her brought up here to me, and I still didn’t know if I would even drive her in this crazy mess of a city. But, at least I had her here, and not in the grasp of my parents. I was terrified the first couple days of being up here that my mother would destroy the car, knowing that she was the only thing I still cared about left in Georgia. However, in between my father’s “this is absolutely ridiculous” and “you need to come home right now young lady” comments, I managed to convince him to help me send her up here. The only person who really didn’t care that I left was my sister. It’s like I fell of the face of the earth in her world, and now she had the ability to get further into our parents good graces. Not like she never wasn’t, but now they could pretend they were a happy family of three and not four.

Standing in front of the small full length mirror on my closet door
, I pulled and shuffled my shirt. I couldn’t decide if this was an appropriate look for my interview, considering I wore black slacks and white button down shirts whenever I was around Cynthia. This interview was with the NT Management Company, a big business in the entertainment industry. They were top notch management for the music industry, so I figured rocking my normal style would be okay for the job. Now, I stood second guessing myself. My black skinny jeans paired with my red chucks and matched my red and black Jane’s Addiction t-shirt that hung off my right shoulder, almost made me feel underdressed. I had pulled one side of my hair back and finished it with a little red bow, adding a softer flair to my t-shirt and jeans combo. My look wasn’t exactly business attire, but a music management company really wasn’t a suit and tie kind of place either.

I had to be thankful that I scored this opportunity
so quickly; considering I had an interview with Subway the next day and that really wasn’t my first choice for employment. I found the ad NT Management had placed during one of my countless hours stalking the “For Hire” section online. The advertisement stated they were looking for a PA, and when I sent them my resume, they immediately called to set up an interview. I did work for a crazy wedding planner back in Georgia, being someone’s bitch in a different corporate setting should be easy. Getting coffee, running errands, and picking up laundry were things I did well. Not to toot my own horn, but toot toot. It wasn’t rocket science doing simple everyday tasks. This job was going to be easy, as long as they liked me.

I still had no sense of direction in this town, and could easily get lost if it wasn’t for my phone. Yes, Siri did try and tell me to walk off a pier the first night I was in this town, but after that little debacle, things had worked out just fine. Now, standing in front of the large glass building, was making me nervous. This was a serious company, not that I didn’t realize that before; but the beautiful location and even more gorgeous building were a quick reminder that I was nothing to this company.  Fiddling with my bag, I continued to stare at the mirrored glass doors. I needed to go in, get the job, and then celebrate that I could make it here in Seattle. It was like a life or death mission, minus the death part. I needed this job to start living here, and what stood in my way were those big glass doors.

“I’m sure these doors are like a two way mirror, and I must look like an absolute nut case waiting outside. It gets even better because I’m talking to myself, and I’m sure that basically solidifies my certifiable craziness.” Shaking my head, I reached for the glass doors and pushed my way into the large bu
ilding. Ready or not, here I am.

Walking up to the receptionist desk made me want to vomit, or drink copious amounts of alcohol; not sure exactly which one. The tiny little thing behind the counter was exactly like my sister; blonde and perfect. Seeing her totally made me second guess my clothing selection.

“Hi, um yeah, I’m here to meet with Mrs. Craft. I mean
, I have an interview with Mrs. Craft.” My voice stuttered and I looked like a complete idiot standing in front of this woman. First impressions were never my thing, just like talking after sex terrified the shit out of me.

“
It’s Miss Craft, and I’ll let her know you are here,” the snotty blonde seethed at me.

I’m sorry if I interrupted your daily horoscope read
ing in some trash magazine, but good lord sweetheart. Those magazines will only rot your brain out, and I’m betting you have very little left to start with.

“Thanks,” I mumbled back, turning to the recepti
on area to wait out Miss Craft. This place was even fancier on the inside than the pristine glass on the outside. I really should have rethought my attire, because I stuck out like a pageant queen in a mosh pit. Wasn’t this the story of my life, the moment I thought I had everything together the universe decides to do a one-eighty and I end up on my ass again?

“Miss
McGlenister?” A rushed voice behind me sounds, instantly causing me to jump to my feet.

“Yes,
it’s Molly,” I reply, quickly standing and pulling down my shirt.

“Oh good, I was hoping you weren’t some old thing that couldn’
t work fast. Not that we discriminate against age, but well………..oh forget it. Can you start now? I have so much on my plate this afternoon and not enough time to accomplish it all.”

Well
, that wasn’t the interview I was expecting, but shit, I would take just about anything that didn’t require me to wear rubber gloves. A smile crept across my face as I looked over my new boss. She was striking; long brown hair that curled past her shoulders, dark green eyes, and a body to absolutely die for. The best part about her was her clothing choice; no longer did I feel like the ugly duckling of the building. Miss Craft was rocking a red pair of skinny jeans and a long black sweater that barely grazed her ass. Thank god not everyone in this place looked like the Barbie behind the receptionist desk.

“Yeah, no problem.
I mean, sure………….um…………..sorry, yes I can start now.” Seriously, can I get anymore pathetic?

“Follow me.”

Without another word Miss Craft turned on her heels and started stomping for the elevator, quietly mumbling to herself.

“My office is located on the ninth
floor; I’ll email HR to set up on the payroll and get you a key card this afternoon. For now just take mine,” she gushed, holding out a badge on a lanyard for me.

“I completely forgot about a
stupid meeting today at four, and if my father wasn’t going to be there I would say screw it, but Daddy signs my checks. Anyway, I’ll print off a copy of their rider and I need you to make sure everything is there in the dressing room before the boys arrive. If anything is missing, then find the event manager and tell them to fix it. Got it?”

I simply nod
ded my head and followed her out of the elevator, down a long hallway to her office.

“You will need the
keycard to access our office.”

“Okay,” I said quietly.

“Molly, you have my key………….”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Stepping up to the door, I fumbled with sliding the key into the reader. Seriously
, can I look like any more of a pathetic loser today?
Get it together, Molly.

The
machine beeped and Miss Craft swung the large glass door open. The office was jaw dropping beautiful; well the whole building was. The entire back wall was floor to ceiling glass windows, showing off the absolutely spectacular view of downtown Seattle.
Holy shit, I get to work here.

“Your desk is right through those glass doors there, but you can worry about that tomorrow. Here, let me print off a copy of the rider and you can get on your way. You do know where you are going, right?”

“I’m sure I can find it
, Miss Craft.”

“
It’s Stephanie now, Molly. Miss Craft makes me feel old and well……………like my mother. Anyway, here is the rider and let me find you a phone…………………………ah here.” She grabbed a sleek looking device from a basket on her desk and shoved it at me.

“T
his will be your work phone now; keep it charged and on you at all times. After you get done with the rider, will you head over to the dry cleaners on thirty-second and Boon? We are leaving this weekend for the first half of the tour, so make sure you are packed and ready to go by Thursday night.”

“Tour?”
The words stumbled out of my mouth; I didn’t plan on leaving Seattle anytime soon. I was just a lonely PA, not a roadie.

“Yes tour, do you not have a clue who you work for?” Stephanie’s voice so
unded irritated and not amused at my lack of knowledge.

“Yes
, ma’am, I know you manage high profile bands, but I figured I was just a PA.”

“Oh
, aren’t you cute? Yes, you are my PA, but since I’m not available to be on the road at all times you are my eyes and ears to get things done. You don’t have a problem with traveling, do you?” Stephanie paused before collapsing into her plush chair.

I shook my head quickly, unsure if the words that
babbled come out of my mouth would be the ones I wanted to actually say. My mind worked faster than it should in situations like that, and I always seemed to say the exact opposite to whatever was being asked of me. Once again, my social awkwardness was on display for everyone to see.

“Alright then;
well get this done, and get my dry cleaning. I’ll see you at nine tomorrow. If you have any problems, my cell number is programed in the contact list,” Stephanie gushed, shooing me away with her hand.

“Got it, and thanks for the opportunity to work with you,” I rambled while turning for the door. Suddenly the glass was closer
than I realized, and I inelegantly decided to smack face first into the door. “Oomph,” I let out a small noise, rubbing my now red forehead.

“Please, just make it through tonight,” I heard Stephanie grumble as she picked up the phone. Turning to give my new boss a small smile, I pushed the large door open and
sheepishly slinked out into the hallway.
Seriously, Molly, could you get any more pathetic? Wait, I really don’t want to know that answer.

The ride over to the Tacoma Dome wasn’t as long as I anticipated, thus giving me very little time to actually look over the list and mentally prepare myself. I knew what a rider was, basically a long list of wants and needs from the artist. Brides had these things, too; they just didn’t normally  consist of six boxes of condoms and three new packages of underwear.

The parking lot was already packed and fans were scattered everywhere, the majority of them being women. Unsure of what door I should enter through, I asked the cabbie to just drop me off in front. I knew there had to be some sort of back door entrance, but this being my first day and all; I really had no clue how to go about it.

“Holy shit,” I said to myself. The women standing in the gigantic line were not like women back home.
It’s not like we lived a totally sheltered life in Georgia, we just didn’t have that. Most of these women looked like street walkers, considering that the few pairs of underwear I did own covered more than their skirts.
Who the hell was playing tonight? I forgot to ask,
I wondered to myself as I glanced around for the ticketing booth. Large Black Laden posters plastered the doors of the entrance. H
oly two humped camels.

I’m pretty sure I peed a little at that moment. Never in a million years did I ever think I would be working for Black Laden. Well
, technically I worked for NT Management, who apparently managed Black Laden, which makes me their employee. Right? Who the F cares, I had loved that band since their first album, Denial, hit the airwaves six years ago. They played the kind of music that you cranked up after a bad day, letting all the emotion of their lyrics bleed your soul dry until you feel absolutely nothing. Their first record got me through my one and only heartbreak, something that I refused to ever go through again. So standing outside the very large Tacoma Dome made me want to go all fan-girl and freak out.