Page 3 of The Boss

One of the things I appreciated the most about working under Mr. Hancock and Suzie Lamas was how well they managed to balance having a department that was both professional and casual. They didn’t always take the time to thank us for doing something that was our actual job, but any time we went above and beyond, they made a point of expressing their gratitude.

“There’s a voicemail about the event this weekend. I believe it’s Zed Hipwood inquiring about perks for Unraveling’s appearance.”

A shadow passed across Mr. Hancock’s usually clear blue eyes. It wasn’t there long, but it was enough for me to know that he wasn’t fond of one of Manhattan Records’ biggest stars. I’d heard conflicting stories about Hipwood over the past couple years, and there’d been all sorts of stories about him since the band had first appeared on the scene.

“Was he sober?”

I didn’t answer right away, thinking carefully about the message I’d listened to. I didn’t want to make an assumption and possibly cause an issue between the company and Unraveling’s frontman. Mr. Hancock didn’t rush me, which I appreciated. He and Ms. Lamas didn’t ask rhetorical questions, and they didn’t ask questions they didn’t want answers to. If anything, they seemed to appreciate it when we took the time to come up with a clear and honest answer.

“It was hard to tell,” I said finally. “He wasn’t slurring his words, and his statements were understandable, but I know that people who are used to drinking a lot don’t always have the same noticeable signs of being drunk that most people think of.”

“True,” Mr. Hancock said as I followed him into his office. He sat down behind his desk and sighed. “And Zed’s definitely no stranger to alcohol.”

“I’ve…guessed as much.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, and for once, he actually looked like he was in his early forties. “What did he want?”

I’d had to listen to the message three times to get it all, but I was confident I’d managed to record everything. I pulled out my notebook and opened to the page for today. I transcribed notes into my phone at the end of every day, but I liked to have a hard copy too, especially if I was trying to take notes while I was on the phone. I found it simpler to do it that way.

“The event this weekend is to promote the summer releases and concert tours,” I said. I’d double-checked that Hipwood had been correct about the point of the event. “He wants Unraveling to have the first announcement, both for the release and the tour.”

Mr. Hancock nodded. “All right. What else?”

“He wants the band to have a private green room where they can go whenever they ‘get bored.’” It might’ve been a little immature of me to include the air quotes, but I wasn’t going to claim those words as my own. And I intended to continue making sure my boss knew what I had and hadn’t said. “In said green room, he wants a specific selection of alcoholic beverages, of which I have a list, enough for each of ‘his boys’ to ‘chill.’ He’s also asking for ten ‘hot bitches’ to be dancing in the room at all times.”

Hancock leaned forward, his eyes closed and rubbed his temples. “He does have a way with words, doesn’t he?” He didn’t even bother to hide his sarcasm.

“Quite the gentleman.” The words popped out of my mouth before I could think about the wisdom of actually saying them. “Sorry.”

Hancock shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. What else was there?”

“He wants Starburst Jellybeans, but only the yellow and green ones.”

“He has a thing about red dye,” Hancock said. “Not an allergy. He just hates it.”

I nodded. “I actually remember reading that a few years ago.”

“You’re an Unraveling fan, then?”

I held up a hand and wiggled it back and forth. “If I’m going to be completely honest, I liked most of their first album, but only a song or two off every album since.”

One side of Hancock’s mouth tipped up in a half-smile. “They still manage to sell out stadiums all over the country.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t sayotherpeople didn’t still like their music.”

“Good point.” Hancock leaned back. “Continue. Because I know there’s more.”

I blew out a breath. “You’re right. There’s also a list of half a dozen other snacks, including mini sliders, burritos, and organic kale.”

“The new bass player only eats organic,” Hancock explained. “I’m actually a little surprised that Hipwood even knows that.”

I hesitated, then said, “I’m pretty sure the new organic bass player has a couple friends Hipwood likes a lot.”

“Are we talking female friends we’ll probably have to add to the backstage pass list until Hipwood gets tired of them, or either gender friends who are supplying Unraveling with things that are less than legal?”

I lifted a shoulder. “I think the former, but it might be the latter.”

Hancock nodded. “All right. I’ll make sure I let Nate know about that possible problem.”

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