Chronicles of a Rockin' Mess Read online

  Chronicles of a Rockin’ Mess

  S.E. Rose

  Copyright © 2019 S. E. Rose

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  www.seroseauthor.com

  Cover design © Arijana Karčić, Cover It! Designs

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book contains descriptions of adult relationships and violence as well as derogatory language. If such things offend you, this book is not for you. The book is intended for mature readers.

  Created with Vellum

  To my parents, who instilled in me a love of music.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgement

  About the Author

  Other Books by S.E. Rose

  Sneak Peek at Chronicles of a Hot Mess

  Chapter 1

  Lark

  “Lark!” Lincoln yells from somewhere on the second story of the sprawling estate. The sound echoes through the house because it has been yelled into an intercom via an Apple Watch. But I know exactly where he is. Since only three minutes ago, I left him in his bedroom.

  I groan. “What?!” I scream from the study by the front door.

  “I need you, NOW!” Lincoln barks.

  I groan again and stomp up the steps and down the hall until I reach the giant wooden double doors that lead to Lincoln’s lair. Only in the house does he use the intercom. Normally, it’s a text message. I push them open, and there is Lincoln in front of a giant-ass mirror manscaping.

  I avert my eyes. “What the fuck?!” I yell and turn around.

  “Do I have hair on my ass? I need you to look,” he commands.

  “I am not fucking looking for hair on your damn ass, you perv,” I groan.

  “Lark, come on. I don’t trust anyone else to look, and I don’t have time to go to a spa before the next show,” he pleads.

  “Lincoln, seriously, that is not in my fucking contract. Can’t Harry or Kade take a look at that for you?” I ask as I stand my ground, refusing to turn and look at him. OK, I’m looking at him, but in the mirror on the other side of the room above the dresser. How can I not look? The man is beautiful, like Greek god, works out four hours a day and lives on lean protein beautiful. And his package is…well, I’d unwrap that package any day.

  “Please, Lark,” he pleads, and I see him coming toward me.

  “Fine, if I look at your hairy ass, my bonus gets doubled, and I get an extra week off next year,” I argue.

  “Twenty-five percent more bonus and three extra days off,” he counters.

  I hold my hand out in the air, still refusing to look, and he shakes it.

  “Bend over,” I groan as I turn to see Lincoln’s fine ass in my grill. I examine it. Yeah, so I take an extra minute because his ass is damn fine.

  “Nope, not hairy,” I pronounce and promptly exit the room.

  “What the fuck? Greta said it was getting hairy last night,” he whines.

  “Well, Greta is a class A bitch, and she’s probably jealous because she has more hair on her upper lip than you have on your whole backside,” I state as I start walking back to the study.

  “Thanks, Lark!” he yells. “I owe you one.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I mutter as I settle down in front of the laptop again and begin responding to his fan mail.

  I have worked for Lincoln Grant for exactly three years, one month, and two days, not that I am counting. Lincoln is the lead singer of Voltage Drop, an indie rock band that had made it big after their third album. In the three years I have worked for him, he has gone from leading a band that opened for major pop artists to leading a band that had major pop artists open for them. Lincoln, Harry, and Kade are all great guys; otherwise, I wouldn’t have stuck around so long. Harry is the clown. Kade is the serious one. And Lincoln, well, Lincoln is their leader, but he is also a narcissistic, egotistical maniac who needed to get his shit together. OK, he isn’t that bad, but he does fuck everything with two legs. He knows he is good looking, and he also is smart as fuck and likes to mess with dumb Hollywood types for fun.

  He goes through women like I go through candy on Halloween, and he looks at me like I am another dude, which is majorly problematic because I have the world’s biggest crush on Lincoln. I have had a crush on him since day one, but I have swept that under the rug and buckled down to do my job. Not to mention, I am not exactly Lincoln’s type, so I know I never stand a chance.

  My job as Lincoln’s PA consists of putting out Lincoln’s fires, and Lincoln is a class A social arsonist. That man could create shitstorms just by looking in someone’s direction. In the past twelve months, I have had to talk two sound guys out of quitting from the tour, cover up six incidents of cheating on four different girlfriends, and I have had to wrangle the paparazzi every time Lincoln and his friends trash a hotel room or bar. In some ways, they behave like the worst kind of rock band, but in other ways, they are good guys.

  Lincoln lost his little sister to leukemia when they were teenagers, and he religiously visits the children’s cancer ward at our local hospital and is always donating money for cancer research. Harry and Kade, who are brothers, lost their mom to breast cancer just a few years ago, and they also donate tons to cancer charities. They are good about stopping and talking with fans and taking pictures. And, when no one is looking, they are actually a fun-loving group who enjoys each other’s company.

  We are in the middle of a ninety-seven-day tour. We have just ended the U.S. tour. Next up, we are off to Europe followed by Asia. I am really looking forward to this year being over. They have plans to go back in the studio after this year, and it’d be almost two years before we’d tour again. And I for one, am ready for a break from touring.

  Chapter 2

  After spending the last twenty-one days playing goalie for women trying to make themselves at home with Lincoln, I want nothing more than a vacation, but here we are gearing up for the next leg of the tour.

  “Hey,” Kade says as he walks in the house with a bag slung over his shoulder.

  “Dump it there, with the others,” I yell to him from the study.

  I hear the bag drop, and a moment later Kade appears in the doorway. I look up and study him for a long moment. Kade is a good guy. He’s responsible. He’s definitely the dad of the band, and he also has the nicest girlfriend ever, Savannah. He’s been like a big brother to me since my first day on the job.

  “So?” Kade asks.

  “So?” I respond.

  “Is the royal fucker ready yet?”
br />   I snort. “He’s upstairs, probably manscaping or packing extra condoms, or some shit like that.”

  “Typical,” Kade says with a roll of his eyes.

  I sigh. “Well, our bags are ready to go. We just need his ass down here, and where are Harry and Savannah?”

  “Savannah’s project is due this week, so she’ll join us in Prague, and Harry’s meeting us at the airport.”

  I raise my eyebrows.

  “Harry’s with Amelia,” he says with a grin. Amelia and Harry have been dancing around a real relationship for months now. We’re all rooting for it to happen because Amelia is awesome.

  Kade’s phone buzzes and he looks down. “He’s coming,” Kade says and stands.

  I shut down the laptop and place it in my carry-on bag before following Kade into the foyer. Lincoln walks down the stairs, and I swear it’s like a commercial or movie. He moves in slow motion, and everything about him radiates sex. I clench my thighs together. He’s wearing jeans, a white t-shirt with a logo of a resort on it, and a black leather jacket. He screams rock star. His hair is slightly disheveled but in the most perfect way. And I can smell his cologne from twenty feet away. Not because he has on too much, but because I’m sort of obsessed with it.

  “Ready?” he asks us.

  We nod, and Kade opens the door and beckons the driver up to help pack the car.

  Thirty minutes later, we’re on a private jet. Somehow, Kade sweet-talked an exec at the record label. So, we are borrowing his private jet for the next few weeks as we make our way around Europe. It’s a fast part of the tour, twelve cities in twenty-one days.

  I grab a chair in the back of the jet. I want to get as much work done as I can while we are in the air. Kade grabs a seat in the front. Harry and Kade’s PA, Ellie, sit up by Kade, and Lincoln sits across from them. Gwen, the band’s publicist, pops on last with Gary, the band’s manager, and sits up by Harry. Clearly, she wants the scoop on Harry and Amelia. I roll my eyes.

  As soon as we take off, I’m online, confirming plans, making sure every need of Lincoln’s is met for the next three weeks. Eventually, I pop my head up and notice that everyone is sleeping except Lincoln and me.

  His eyes meet mine, and he walks back to join me. He sits down and looks at my computer screen. I can feel the heat from his body. I lean toward him, needing to be closer, and also hoping he doesn’t notice.

  “You should take a break.”

  I sigh. “There’s lots to get done before we arrive.”

  Lincoln places a hand over mine. I look down at it. His skin feels perfect against mine. I breathe in his cologne, taking full advantage of his proximity. “Take a break,” he demands in a gentle voice.

  I stop and look up at him. He looks…concerned.

  “Fine,” I say and lower the screen on my laptop. He’s still staring at me. I try not to stare back because I’m fairly certain my crush on him will be obvious if I do.

  “What’s up?” I ask him.

  He runs a hand through his hair, and my eyes follow it. What I’d give to run my hands through his hair.

  “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, looking up to make sure no one is listening to us.

  I shake my head, confused. “For what?”

  “I’ve been a prick lately. It’s not fair to you. You are like the world’s greatest PA. I need to work on that.”

  “It’s OK. You’re clearly working through some shit. I just worry about you, Linc,” I admit, giving his hand a squeeze. He squeezes back and my heart nearly stops from the intimate contact. And it’s the truth. I have been worried about him. He’s been all over the place lately, making my job twice as hard. It’s like he’s wrestling with demons or something.

  “You know you can talk to me?” I say softly.

  “I know. But…I just have a lot on my mind,” he confides.

  “I’m sure. This is the biggest tour you guys have ever done. That’s a lot of pressure,” I say.

  He nods. “Yeah, if I’m being honest, I’m looking forward to the tour ending and going back into the studio for a while,” he admits.

  I nod, and then a yawn escapes my mouth.

  “Why don’t you sleep for a bit?” he suggests.

  “Just for a little while,” I agree. He motions for an airline attendant, who brings us blankets. I curl up and fall asleep.

  Chapter 3

  I wake to the sound of laughter. I open my eyes. It takes me the better part of a minute to realize I’m sleeping with my head in Lincoln’s lap, and I’m drooling. Oh no! Not good! To make matters worse, Harry is now standing in front of me stifling laughter as he takes photos with his phone.

  I go to sit up, only I don’t realize that Lincoln has also fallen asleep and his head is leaning over mine, so when I go up, I run right into his chin.

  Apparently, everyone else sees this coming, because they all burst into laughter.

  “FUCK!” Lincoln yells. I turn to see him clutching his chin.

  “Sorry,” I squeak. “Here, let me see. Are you OK?”

  He brushes my hand away, but Harry manages to pry Lincoln’s hand off his chin.

  “You’re fine. Don’t be such a pussy,” Harry says.

  I look at Lincoln’s chin. It’s a little red, but he’ll be fine. I’m more than slightly mortified. I try my best to cover it up with my concern for him.

  “You’ll live,” I announce. He glares at me, and I give him my best batty-lashes sorry face. He rolls his eyes.

  For the remainder of the trip, I do work. Lincoln puts his headphones on and falls back asleep after eating a sandwich.

  By the time we arrive, I have triple-checked everything. We go through customs and get whisked away to our hotel.

  In the lobby, I hear someone call my name. I turn. When I see who it is, I take off running and jump into the arms of one of my favorite people to hang out with in the industry, William Cooper, or Coop to those who know him. He’s a bit over the top, but we always have a good time.

  “What’s happening, hot stuff?” he asks.

  I grin. Coop has been one of my favorite party people since the day we met, which also happened to be my third day on the job.

  He and I are two of the longest-serving employees of Voltage Drop. Coop studied theater design at university and met Harry. Somehow over time, he became their stage manager, so I typically only see him daily when we are on tour. Otherwise, he shows up periodically at parties. But we maintain a constant text conversation that is mostly just gifs and emojis. We are completely not each other’s type, so keeping a platonic relationship has been easy.

  “When did you get here?” I ask him, trying to remember what his schedule is.

  “A week ago,” he says. “The concert is going to be off the charts. I have to say that I have completely outdone myself this time.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Drinks?” he asks.

  I pull out my phone. “Give me a few hours,” I say. “I gotta take care of some stuff for Lincoln.”

  Coop laughs. “Well…uh, good luck with that,” he says as he glances past me.

  I turn and look to see what he’s staring at. I groan. Lincoln is already flirting with the woman at the front desk. I sigh. “See you later, Coop,” I say. He ruffles my hair, and I walk over to retrieve my boss.

  I somehow manage to get Lincoln up to his suite. Gwen goes over a plethora of media events for the tour, while I continue to confirm transport, hotels, venue details, and a million other insignificant details. My phone pings with a text, and I look down to see a message from Coop.

  Coop: Fire drill

  Me: Five alarm?

  Coop: Oh yeah

  Me: Give me one minute

  Coop: Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight…

  Me: (eye rolling emoji)

  Coop: (kissy face emoji)

  I look up at Gwen and Lincoln, who is half-paying attention to her.

  “Hey, guys, I need to go check the fire escape routes and confirm that the paps aren’t
going to be an issue, and then I’ll check the venue and grab food with Coop to go over some details. See you later,” I say quickly, grabbing my purse and exiting the room before either can say anything to me.

  I pass Kade and Harry in the hall.

  “Where are you going?” Harry asks.

  “Checking out the venue,” I say as I hurry past them.

  Kade chuckles.

  “Just make sure you guys don’t need bailed out of jail,” he calls out after me. I grin as the elevator doors close behind me. It’s well known that if I’m going to get into trouble, Coop is usually the instigator of said trouble plans. But fuck it, I gotta have some fun.

  As I walk out of the hotel, I only notice one or two paps hanging around, I put on my sunglasses and walk around the side of the building. Coop is leaning against the fire exit door, smoking a cigarette.

  “Coop, seriously? I thought you quit the cancer sticks,” I chide.

  He shrugs. “And mostly I have, toots,” he says as he throws the remaining cigarette on the ground and puts it out with his foot.

  I roll my eyes. “So, what shenanigans are we going to get into today?”

  He takes my arm in his and escorts me down the alley and another alley until we pop out on a different street. “Today, my dear, we are going on a pub crawl,” he announces.

  Six hours and countless beers later, we roll up to the hotel in one of the black London taxis. We get out awkwardly and stumble inside.

  “You better come hold my hair back later,” I mumble as I get in the elevator with him.