Two Different Roads

Honesty

"Bob..."
He turned to find Nesmith standing beside an absolutely stunning tall redhead with the prettiest green eyes he'd ever seen. Damn, she WAS tall! Even in the little ballet flats she was wearing she was up to Mike's eyebrows. That would make her 5'10" or 5'11" at least.
For a second he had time to wonder what all she could do with those impossibly long legs which were all too visible in her short dress when the guitarist suddenly said, "This is the girl I told you about."
Right, the job. Time to be Mr. Professional. "Nice to meet you. I'm Bob Rafelson."
He extended a hand and she took it with a smile that would light up Times Square. "I'm Ellen Raymond. Nice to meet you as well."
That was a sexy accent. This just kept getting better. If she didn't end up getting the assistant job he could definitely think of another job he'd like to give her.
He looked at her just a little too long, realized suddenly that Nesmith had noticed and didn't like it. He was giving him one of those patented death stares the prima donna was already infamous for. What did HE care? If Bob didn't know better he'd think the Texan was jealous. That DID have the look of a Rottweiler defending a rather tasty bone.
Nah, no way. Maybe she was his long lost cousin by way of England.
"I'm afraid I don't have the time to talk," he told the gorgeous redhead, his professionalism finally returning,"I'll look over your information, and we'll be in touch."

"Thank you Mr. Rafelson."
"You can call me Bob," he corrected with a very unprofessional wink.
II
"He was looking at you," he said in a steady voice that did not match his flashing eyes in the slightest. They radiated such jealousy that she would not have been surprised had they turned green.
"Well it IS customary to look at the person you're talking to," she said, attempting to defuse the Nesmith temper with humor.
"You know what I mean. It's the WAY he was looking at you. It was like he wanted to have you for breakfast. I hated it. I hate ANYBODY thinking they can take what's mine."
He colored suddenly when he realized what had slipped from his mouth. "Shit, did I actually SAY that?"
She smiled. "You did."
"I didn't mean..."
"Yes, you did, and it's OK."
"What are you telling me exactly?"
"I don't mind if you think of me as yours."
"Really? That's nice to know, but does it work the other way too? Am I yours Baby?"
She slipped her arms around him. "I think I'd very much LIKE you to be."
"Show me," he commanded and lifted her into his embrace, carrying her to her bedroom, her legs around his waist, her arms secured about his neck.
"Michael Nesmith, you're insatiable. I already 'showed' you twice just this morning."
"If you're complaining I can set you down right here."
She gripped his neck more tightly, kissed him.
"That's what I thought," he practically growled when they came up for air. She'd never been able to refuse him, had never WANTED to, and he was well aware of the fact.
"Eat your heart out Bob," he pronounced as they tumbled to the bed.
"Bob's not here. It's just you and me," she reminded him.
"That's the way its gonna stay Darlin."

III
They were naked, a tangle of limbs, and judging by the sounds she was making, he was just about to make her cum for the second (or was it third) time when the phone on the nightstand rang. Mike never faltered. It was as if he hadn't even heard.
She whispered his name, but he only took it as part of their lovemaking. When she said it a second time and he still didn't respond she raised a hand between their joined bodies, pressed it against his damp chest, insisted, "Michael, the phone!"
"Fuck me!" He snarled , finally rolling off of her.
"We can get back to THAT after you see who's ringing. It could be the studio you know."
"Nesmith-this better be good."
"What's the matter with you, Mike? You sound like you're about to hyperventilate."
"I was in the middle of something Bob," he answered coyly.
"...or someone," he suggested knowingly. "Wait a minute, did I dial wrong? I thought I was calling Ellen."
"You are. She kind of lives here...with me," he admitted sheepishly.
"Shit you're putting me on. You mean you two are..."

"No Bob, she's my sister."
He sighed. "Well, put your 'sister' on the phone smart ass. I need to talk to her."
Mike handed her the receiver, and Ellen took it nervously, knowing they were now truly and surely busted. It was confirmed when she answered and Mike's boss said, "Sounds like you were in the middle of the same thing Nesmith was."
She swallowed. "What can I do for you Mr. Rafelson...Bob?"
"It's what I can do for YOU, although I'm sure you won't enjoy it as much as what you were getting from Mike. I called to say you can report to work tomorrow morning, seven sharp."
"You're offering me the job? That's wonderful Mr...Bob. Thank you."
"No thanks necessary. We're lucky to have you. That reminds me, there's something else I'd like to talk to that troublesome Texan about."
She returned the phone to Mike. "He wants to speak with you again."
"Why didn't you tell me her last job was with the fucking Beatles?"
"What?"
"You didn't know? Well it's true. She was personal assistant to Brian Epstein himself. That's their manager."
"I'm well aware of who that is."
"I spoke with him at great length. Nice man. He told me Ellen was conscientious, capable and efficient and I couldn't ask for a better employee. When I pressed him about why she left he finally said that he didn't want to get too personal, but that it was his understanding she'd moved to America to be with her boyfriend, which I now assume is you.

I wondered why she wanted to go from working for the fab four to putting up with you four assholes. Now I guess I know, although I still don't get what she sees in an arrogant prick like you. All I can say is you must be pretty damn good.
At any rate, their loss is your gain and ours too. I'm gonna lay out some ground rules though. If there's any hanky panky on the set I better not know about it. Whatever you get up to on your own time is not my business, but if it interferes with my show you'll be MAKING it my business. And tell her for me that if trouble should arise in paradise she's got a contract. If she tries to quit without notice and run home to Mommy when you inevitably fuck up I'll sue. You got all that Nesmith?"
"I got it Bob."
"Good-I'll see you both tomorrow," he finished and hung up.
Mike placed the phone back in its cradle, sat silently mulling over what his boss had said. "Why didn't you tell me you worked for the Beatles?"
"Technically I worked for Brian, and you never asked."
"But don't you think you could have shared something that big?"
"I didn't want things to get weird. And would you have believed me anyway?"
"I don't know. Maybe, maybe not," he admitted.
"It doesn't matter any road. That was then, and this is now," she asserted and straddled him. "Now where were we?"
"Right about here Darlin."

IV
He was kissing her, then all at once his strong hands were on her shoulders, holding her apart from him. "Wait a minute. Wait just a minute. The night we met your sister was pissed cause you hadn't done anything with your music or dancing. She said you'd rather follow your boyfriend around being his business manager 's secretary or some shit. I was only half listening cause I was too busy thinking about how I was going to get you horizontal, but I sure caught the word boyfriend. Now if Brian Epstein was his business manager, the boyfriend must have been..."
She looked at him as if she were waiting for him to make the inevitable connection and dreading it when he did. It took about a millisecond.
"You were fucking one of the goddamn Beatles!"
"I wouldn't necessarily put it that way, but yes," she finally relented.
"It wasn't Paul, cause he's not married. Which one of the others?"
"Michael it doesn't matter."
"Shit, it was Lennon wasn't it? He'd be just your type. I said you were a John girl all along. I had no idea how on the nose that was. I don't know whether to be flattered I'm added to that company or to feel inadequate by comparison. You were John fucking Lennon's girlfriend! You were gonna have his baby! This is surreal!"
"He was never a Beatle to ME. He was just Johnny, someone I'd known literally my entire life."

"I can't even imagine what it was like for you to suddenly have that end. He wasn't just your lover and the father of your unborn child. He'd been your friend too. And all I can talk about is his famous job. I'm such an ass. You must have loved him so much."

" I did, and I was certain I could never love anyone else...until I met you." She put her arms around him, finally uttered the words she'd been thinking for days. "I love you Michael."
" I guess I know that. You wouldn't be here if you didn't. You ended up leaving EVERYTHING to be here."
"I don't regret it."
"You say that now, but it seems to me that I better work pretty hard to make sure you never do."
"You're doing great," she assured him and kissed him.
" I love you my sweet Marie," he said, calling her by her middle name, the one he'd recently taken to using as a term of endearment in intimate moments like this.
"Show me."