Blood Ink

Chapter 3: New Job

Remi's POV

“Are you serious, Remi?! You're the PA for Gray f*cking Wilder?"

I wince at the volume of Ava's voice as she screeches across the kitchen island from me. I scrunch my face and turn toward the fridge to retrieve the water bottle that I carry with me wherever I go. Ava likes to call it my 'support bottle' but I think I'm just good at staying hydrated.

“Calm down, Ava. It's really not that big of a deal."

“Not that big of a deal?" Ava says in disbelief as she slumps against the back of the stool. “You get to spend five days a week with the most famous person in America right now. Not to mention the hottest. You're so damn lucky. I should've applied for the job."

I roll my eyes as I shove the bottle slicked with water reside into my tote bag, making sure it sits as far away from my laptop as possible. “Now you're just being dramatic. You don't even know this man, so I don't know why you're getting so worked up over him. Besides, I think you're reading too much into this."

Ava's brows knit together in a frown, and she tilts her head to the side. “What do you mean by that?"

“I mean that you only see this man on a television screen. You have this perfect image of him in your head of who he is, despite the media scandals, but you don't truly know him unless you meet him in person. So, don't get your hopes up about me working with him. You never know, he might be exactly as the media describes him."

Ava shakes her head, radiating confidence with each movement. “I don't believe for a second that he's a bad person. I just know there is something about him that no one has ever seen before either because he's unwilling to show it or the media is out to get him."

I sling the tote bag over my shoulder and slide my sunglasses over my head. “I guess we'll see about that. Dinner tonight?"

“Absolutely," she smiles. “I want to know every single detail about Gray Wilder, okay? You will not hear the end of me if you don't give me some information tonight."

I chuckle at her persistence as I walk toward the front door. “I'll do my best, but I can't promise anything. Besides, this is an initial meeting with his team to go over what is expected of me and his upcoming schedule. I may not even get to meet him today."

***

The taxi ride to Vital Records feels longer than it did three days ago. Maybe it's the early morning L.A. traffic as everyone is trying to go to work or because I'm nervous and keep fiddling with the hem of my pencil skirt. I shift in the seat, hoping it'll ease the tension in my chest, but it doesn't.

Ava took me shopping the day after getting the PA job because my closet with filled with clothes to work in retail, not an important job like working for the biggest celebrity in the country right now. Ava's words, not mine.

She helped me pick out a few different appropriate office attire clothing that I can mix and match depending on the weather or what my schedule is like for the day. I figured because today will be just going over paperwork and the nitty-gritty details, I decided to wear the black pencil skirt that reaches just above my knees and a shirt sleeve light blue blouse that Ava said matches my sun-kissed skin tone perfectly. I think I believe her, but then again, I don't know much about fashion.

Once at the building, I head inside and talk to the same lovely receptionist from a few days earlier. She directs me upstairs to the fourth floor and said Lucy's office is at the end of the hallway.

My heart is in my throat as I walk down the long hallway, passing by very important-looking people, but like I did the day of my interview. I knock twice on the door at the same pace my heart is thumping nervously in my chest.

“Come in!"

I take a deep breath before pushing open the door. My eyes instantly lock with Lucy as she sits at a large mahogany table to the left of her just as large desk. I thought the room I was interviewed in was her office, but I guess it was just a spare room available at the time instead.

“Good morning, Remi. Please, have a seat."

I nod and walk toward the table, avoiding eye contact with the five other people sitting around the table in their fancy suits, tidy hair, and open laptops. I feel so inferior and out of place as I slide into an empty seat next to a woman who smells like strawberries and is so stunning she could be on the cover of a modeling magazine.

“Remi, this is Gray Wilder's team you will be working alongside," Lucy says as she gestures around the table.

“What about the rest of the band?" I ask softly, making direct eye contact with Lucy at the head of the table.

“They have their own teams to help them. I'm the manager of Blood Ink, but this team right here is responsible for keeping Gray's public image acceptable, and also helps with costume planning for tours, interviews, and other events. And that's also where you come in."

I hold my breath as I wait for Lucy to continue. I vaguely know what a personal assistant does for a client, but now that I know I'll be working for Gray Wilder – the known playboy rockstar – I think there will be a lot more to my job than fetching him coffee and keeping him on schedule.

“Remi, you will be responsible for keeping Gray on his schedule, making sure he attends any events or interviews that are planned for him. You will also assist him in the studio when he's with the band working on new songs for the album. There are a lot of small details to go over in the contract, but the main thing you'll be doing is helping to keep him on track, got it?"

I swallow hard. Hearing what I need to do for this job has me questioning if I'm the right person for the job. How am I meant to keep a grown man on schedule every single day as if my life depends on it? It seems like a lot of work for one person.

I know I'm just getting in my head about this, and there is no way I'm going to turn down this job because it pays well and I need the money, but damn it's going to be a lot of hard work and long days. I think I'm ready for it, but I'm not confident in myself as usual.

“I-I think I can do it, Lucy. You can count on me."

“I hope so," Lucy says, raising a brow while everyone else listens and types on their laptops. “There will be a lot of pressure on you, so I'm hoping you can handle the heat."

She licks her lips and waves her hand in the air as if trying to summon the right words. “Gray Wilder is how you say… a handful. Sometimes he isn't easy to work with and there might be times you want to rip your hair out – trust me, I feel that way a lot – so you need to keep your head on straight and give this your all, otherwise, he's going to eat you alive."

“I can do it," I say more firmly this time because I want Lucy to believe in my ability to handle this job. I know I can do it. I just have to have a little bit of confidence within myself.

“One last thing," Lucy says. “Under no circumstance are you allowed to get involved with Gray in any way that isn't his assistant, you understand? It's forbidden to get involved with our clients."

“I understand," I say because I do. I have no intention of ever getting involved with Gray Wilder because from what I've seen of him on TV, he looks like a wild card and a playboy. He's not someone I would want to give my heart to because I know he would be capable of shattering it into a million pieces. “I won't get involved with Gray Wilder. You have my word."

Lucy smiles and claps her hands together. “Amazing. Now that is out of the way, let's go over your contract –"

A loud bang from behind the table causes everyone to jump in shock and turn their eyes to the door of the office. My eyes widen in shock when I see none other than Gray Wilder standing in the doorway looking rough as guts.

My eyes rake over his crumpled black t-shirt that perfectly frames his large biceps and his light jeans with the top button undone as if he had quickly thrown them on and not given any thought to putting them on properly.

Seeing him in person and not on a TV screen allows me to get a better look at the black ink covering his entire right arm, his left forearm, and both of his knuckles. My eyes travel over the shapes in permanent ink, but I'm able to make out the specific designs because my heart stutters at the sight of his bright emerald eyes.

From the moment I look into them, I feel enraptured by their beauty and how much pain is hiding beneath the surface. They look like they're pleading for help, but no one is paying attention to them.

I swallow hard as I take in Gray's disheveled wavy brown hair like he just rolled out of bed and barely ran his fingers through the locks. His lip ring glints under the fluorescent lights and the scar through his left brow is as clear as day.

Gray Wilder is a walking artifact with his pure, captivating beauty even when he doesn't look put together. His entire body looks as though it has a story to tell, and I'm wondering if I'm strong enough to hear it because the pain and darkness in his eyes tell me it's not going to be a fairy tale.

“Jesus, Gray, are you hungover?" Lucy scolds and shakes her head as she leaves the table to approach him.

Gray glances down at the almost empty bottle of whiskey in his hand and smirks, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “You can't be hungover if you haven't stopped drinking."

Those simple nine words send a shiver down my spine as I'm faced with the reality of my new job. Working with Gray Wilder is not going to be easy.

Gray frowns as he looks across the room at me. My heart stutters when he lifts his finger, pointing directly at me. “Who the hell is she?"

“Remi is your new PA," Lucy mutters as she snatches the bottle out of his hand. “She is going to be helping with your schedule from now on."

“Like hell she is," Gray snorts, shaking his head. “I don't need a f*cking assistant, Lucy. I know you're trying to make her my babysitter and I don't need one."

“Gray, that's not what I'm doing…"

As Lucy and Gray exchange quiet words about me, I desperately wish I could turn invisible and slip away without anyone noticing. But this is my life now, so I'm just going to have to deal with it. No matter how difficult it's going to be working with a man who doesn't want me around.