Page 103 of The Rock Star's Guide to Getting Your Man

Jeff didn’t have a clue. “No… but I can call my setup guru? Or just give you her number. She can probably give you all the details more efficiently without me as the go-between.”

“Right.”

The guy looked like he had more to say. Jeff had never met a foreman who wouldn’t speak their mind—they didn’t get put in charge of crews by being afraid of telling people about problems—but maybe this was extra weird for him since Jeff was semi famous. “Look—Gord?”

“George,” he corrected.

“Sorry. George.” Jeff dropped his phone on the desk and sat forward with his hands between his knees. “Whatever’s going on, it’s not your fault and I’m not going to get mad at you or have, I don’t know, some kind of rage fit like you see on MTV or whatever. So just spit it out. What’s the problem?”

George practically sagged with the release of pressure. “The house is only wired for fifty-amp service.” He showed Jeff the clipboard, which told him absolutely nothing, but he was a man, so he pretended it all made perfect sense. “You’re going to need to put in a new breaker box.”

Finally, a plan of action. “Okay,” Jeff said. “Whatever it takes, just get it done.”

George blinked. “That’s it? You don’t want a quote or whatever?”

There were two contractors in the area and the other was booked solid trying to get things done before high tourist season. “Are you going to stiff me, George?”

“No?”

“All right, then.” Jeff handed him back the clipboard.

“Uh,” George said.

Damn it, apparently he wasn’t done.

“It’ll take a few days to get an electrician out here.”

Jeff didn’t really have a few days, but whatever. “Can you continue what you’re doing until then?”

George nodded. “Oh, yeah, sure, no problem.”

That wasn’t so bad, then. “All right.”

“Um.”

Jeff took a deep breath and counted to four, then let it out. “Something else?”

George held out the clipboard. “I need you to sign at the bottom?”

Son of a bitch.

LESSON SEVEN

A Relationship Is a Duet

SOMETIMES ITfeels like it’s you and your partner against the world, especially in a new relationship.

It’s not.

I know, I know, I just finished telling you to make room for someone. And a relationshipisa duet (or trio, or however many people are in your relationship), but while you’re singing your guts out, who’s playing the drums? Who’s on guitar? Piano? Who’s doing the lighting? Who’s backstage stocking the snacks in the dressing room?

You decide together what song you’re singing.

But you’re not an island. When the shit hits the fan—and it will—don’t forget about the other people in your corner.

For one thing, they’ll make you feel reallystupid.

Chapter Nineteen

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