Whiskey for Elephants

1

The office was cool, sending goose bumps up and down my arms. To my right, the man I worked for was visible through the glass wall. As usual, he was toting his daughter. His tour began today.
Does 'represent' really count as 'work for'? It was my first day in my new office-I wasn't an intern anymore! To my left was a view of the city. I could see the heat waves from here. My door opened and the girl walked in.
"Willow, baby, you can't go in there. This lady... is actually the person I'm looking for." The man picks up the girl and reaches a hand out to me. I'd take it, but I'm eating barbecue wings. I do spirit fingers at him to show him. "Or don't give me the opportunity to lick my fingers, that's cool." I wipe my hands on some napkins and do a quick germ-x rinse. I reach my hand out, he takes it. I caught myself staring at his hand as it was tattooed with letters and a weird woman's face.
"My names Danika Durant." I say, he chuckles. His laugh was contagious and I let out an awkward squawk. "Yeah, get your laughs out, I'm your publicist. Your new publicist." He nods. His eyes darted around the room, looking for what? I didn't know. The only things on my walls were old action shots of him. Wall sticker letters in lyrics.
"Ronnie Radke. Lead singer of falling in reverse."
"I'm aware. My pleasure, Mr. Radke." I tried to stop the laugh but I couldn't. "How can you make fun of my alliterate last name and also have an alliterate last name?" He smiles, the corners of his mouth turning up at once.
"Because I own you, Durant. Also, fuck off, brat." He says. "What are we talking about anyway?" I am slightly jarred by his words, a slight blush to my face. How unprofessional.
"Please, sit, let's talk business on my lunch break." I say, borderline sarcastically. I pick a piece of chicken up and slide him a folder over with my pinkie.
"We're talking about merch sales? My merch sales are good. People like the stranger thingsy album design." I roll my eyes and point at the highlighted paragraph.
"Oh, crew transportation? On MY bus it's me and the guys and Willow. The stage hands have their own bus." I nod, swallowing chicken and wiping my hands again.
"Right, but.."I open my mouth to further my sentence but one of the band members opens the door and calls for Willow. Mr. Radke says thanks and asks me to continue. I do. "But some of the little guys.."
"Little guys? Really?"
"Okay," I grimace, " some of the stage hands want better sleeping arrangements. Which we have the funds for if we'd cut the tour food stops in half and sold their bus for a new one, like, today."
"So why don't we do that? Problem solved."
"One of the food stops is for Willows dentist appointment on the 23rd. You'd have to reschedule."
"Oh. That's an issue."
"Ya don't say?" He leaned forward onto my desk and attempted to do some math.
"Okay, so what if we eliminate one of the two weeks off to relax in may and sell the bus right now."
"You think the hotel would be willing to give us the money back?" He contemplated it for a minute or two. If he says yes, I call them right now and they refund us. If he says no or hesitates, we have to deal with crappy stage hands. Either way, his diplomacy is our next order of business.
"Let's call and find out, theoretically." He leans back and undoes a button at the top of his polo. Looking at him from a business perspective was hard. Especially since I used to masturbate to his instagram photos. I was a kid then, maybe seventeen. I'm twenty two now. Meanwhile, as I call the hotel, he gets up and looks out the window.

About twenty minutes later, with Mr. Radke's help, I rewrite the schedule for the tour and the stagehands are emailing me thanks.
"Okay. Cool. That's done. What's next?" He asks, now leaning over my right shoulder. I had to remind myself to be professional, I could feel his breath. I put it short and sweet; "Thank the stage hands more. You're good to go."
"Where are you staying on the tour?" He asks, curiosity filling the void of bad thoughts I'm having. "I'm just driving to some of the locations. Not staying the whole time anywhere." I lean towards my computer. "After today, you won't see me again until....Willows Dentist appointment." I sit up and right myself. He side eyes me, as though he wants to know why that night. "You have a photo shoot that day as well, for AP. The articles about you recovering and your life with sobriety." I point at myself. "Ya girl is the publicist." He raises his eyebrows and facepalms.
"Why you telling me stuff I already know?" He tries to cover. I open a document on my computer and open the page to follow my notes from. I start typing as I say, "No clue, boss. Get out of my office."

---

Short, I know, but the next chapter will be longer. Thanks guys!