A Box Of Rocks, Pt. 01

"Please feel free to go braless as often as you want while you're home. I don't mind."

"Pig," I said, grinning, "make me something smooth."

He walked behind the bar and started blending, then handed me a dark concoction that went down smooth but kicked like a mule. "Damn! People actually drink this?"

"It gets smoother, and I suspect one is all you need. Have fun?"

"In all honesty, not as much as I expected. I must be getting old."

"How old are you?"

"26."

"Damn, your best years are behind you. Shoot yourself now, before the wrinkles and bags show up."

"Thanks for the friendly advice."

He gives that cute little grin again. "Always willing to help." Then he stood up, stretching to get the kinks out. "Well, I'm off to bed. I think I have one more good session with Al tomorrow, then she'll be off. I'm going to have to travel as well, unfinished business."

While dying to ask exactly what kind of sessions he was having with my sister, I stuck to the travel comment. "What do you want me to do while you're gone?"

"Oh, you'll be going with me, my little Bitch. I'll have all kinds of things to keep you busy."

My ears perked up but the hour was late, and he left me to finish my drink.

Chapter 6

Al gave me a big kiss and a hug when she left. "You seem to be good for him, Sash. He's a lot brighter now than he's been going back to before the accident. I know, somehow or another you'll fuck this up, but try to put it off as long as possible. Love you, bye."

"He's probably happier because he gets to make my life miserable," I thought as I watched her taillights go around the curve, then turned to see him behind me, grinning.

"Your sister is a really great person, successful, motivated, disciplined, knows what she wants and takes step to achieve her goals. It must not be genetic." Then he walked away, humming under his breath, locked himself in the music room, and except to eat and sleep, I didn't see him again for three days.

Takeout isn't the best thing as far as healty eating, so I took over the cooking duties. Mason was really surprised I could cook, and cook well. We'd just finished a grilled chicken salad, a really healthy entree, which I totally negated by pulling out a homemade cheesecake, and by homemade I meant from scratch. We each had a big piece, and deciding we couldn't possibly have another whole piece, we decided to split one. The next morning he surprised me by getting out his big SUV and telling me to get in.

It was Saturday, and he took me to a farmer's market, and told me to get what I thought we would need for the next week. Then he handed me two hundred dollars in cash. I bought organic eggs, broccoli, spring onions, Swiss Chard, cheddar cheese made just down the road, and then hit the meat stall, buying a couple of really nice steaks, a pork loin, and two fresh chickens before I ran out of money. He'd been trailing along, holding the basket, and laughed, before handing me a couple more hundred. I bought bacon and country ham. Then we hit the dessert stalls, getting a cherry, peach, and apple pie. I had to make myself walk away or it would have been more.

He grinned when we got into his vehicle. "Now you know where this place is. Part of your new duties will be shopping for us. I'll come along when I can because I enjoy it, but the burden will be on you. Take this when you shop, it'll be much easier to get everything in and out. Now then, on to the regular grocer, to get what we couldn't here."

It was a surreal experience, shopping while a world famous and massively rich musician pushed the buggy. The shoppers were all local, and some knew him. There was a lot of speculation about me and he grinned as he introduced me. "She's my new assistant and roommate. You'll see her around for at least a year."

There were speculative glances, especially from the women, wondering just how personal my assistance was. I smirked and took his arm. "He's lucky to have me. If left on his own, the man couldn't find his butt, even with detailed maps and GPS. Somebody has to make sure he doesn't wander off and start playing in traffic."

The woman frowned and I wondered if I'd gone too far, before turning to Mason and seeing him smirk. "Yes, she often has her hand on my butt, to guide me along."

There were giggles while I turned a bright pink.

We got home...wait, did I just call this home? We got back to his place and he helped me put everything away, then disappeared. I found him later at the pool, naked and snoring. I rolled a towel up after wetting it, and popped him on his ass. He came up like the lounge was on fire while I shrieked in laughter and dove into the pool, swimming rapidly. The man must be part otter, because he caught me before I made the length, amazing me with his strength as he pushed me up on the side of the pool and gave me two swats on my glowing ass. Maybe I should have put a bathing suit on first. The blows stinged, but it was a good sting, if you know what I mean. Then he dunked me and swam away.

I joined him and we lay in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. Then he started talking. "We're going to have house guests next month. Two people, separate bedrooms. I promised them home cooked meals, so make sure to buy extra when you shop next week. I assure you they are not picky eaters, so buy what you normally do. I have to go out of town Tuesday and won't be back until late Thursday."

"Anything special you want me to do while you're gone?"

Mason grinned and I suddenly felt like I wasn't going to like what he said next. "Sorry, that came out wrong. WE are going on a trip, and you're finally going to start earning personal assistant pay. We'll be in conference for most of both days, and I'll need you to take notes and bear witness. Go out tomorrow and buy a top of the line laptop with every feature that can be loaded on it. I've already ordered your new phone, and it has a lot of features, so I need you to get familiar with in the next few days. If you don't think your clothes are up to the situation, go get at least two new outfits that say professional. If they say sexy professional, it would be even better. Nothing is as distracting during negotiations as a pretty woman. Make sure you have shoes to match."

Wow. This must be some big deal. Then I grinned. New clothes! "How much should I spend?"

"Enough to look top of the line. No designer clothes, well, none too outrageously expensive. Get your hair done as well. We'll be in the air by seven, so don't stay up to late the night before." The next day he gave me a black card. "I forgot, get some evening clothes as well, for both nights, tasteful but sexy. Can you do that?"

"Give me that card!"

He laughed and went back into the music room. I teased him a little when I returned, refusing to show him what I'd gotten, but assuring him I followed his directions. Besides everything else, I got some new lingerie, and I did pop into his party room the night before we left, in garter belt, hose, and the four inch heels I'd picked up for any social situation. The bra and panty set were the tiniest wisps of material you could sew into anything remotely resembling lingerie, setting off my skin tone perfectly. His eyes went wide when I told him he'd gotten it for me, then he grinned. "Damn, I have good taste. Let me have a closer look." I laughed and ran from the room, kind of disappointed he didn't follow me.

Mason had given me a raise to compensate for the extra duties I'd taken on, so I was ahead of schedule on my payments. I had gotten to the point where I was sort of hoping he'd keep me on after my debt was settled. I always grinned when I went to the farmer's market, because they'd all started calling me Mrs. Eldridge, or Mrs. E., and I stopped correcting them.

Then of course, me being me, I had to fuck it up.

Chapter 7

We went to L.A. for his meeting, and I was excited because I'd never been to the West Coast. I figured we'd fly commercial, and was really surprised that Mason had a jet. He explained that he didn't own it outright, he was in partnership with three other people, and had to give at least two weeks notice to schedule it. It was an entirely different kind of air travel, and I decided it would be very easy to get used to. Because we didn't have to jump through airport hoops, the flight was a lot quicker and hassle free.

A limo was waiting for us, whisking us away to the suite he'd rented. It was really upscale, with every feature one could think of available. I'd caught Mason checking me out a couple of times. I was wearing a power suit, with black tailored slacks and matching jacket, and a white silk blouse. MY hair was up in a semibun, and people stopped to look when we entered the lobby.

A lot of it was for me, but Mason got looks as well. He was wearing a blue suit, with a black tee shirt that clung to his muscles. His hair flowed down his back, and his mustache and goatee were groomed and waxed. A few even recognized him, and one teen girl gawked, tugging on her parents' sleeves and announcing who he was. Mason heard it and grinned, walking over.

Her introduced us, thanked her for being a fan, and handed me her phone, so I could take a dozen different pictures, of him with his arm over her shoulders, him with her and her parents, one with just her mother, and one where he bent down and kissed her cheek. She was crying with happiness when we left them. The girl insisted on one of me and Mason, with her sandwiched in between. Her Twitter account was about to blow up.

After we settled in, we had dinner in a five star restaurant with his lawyer. She was a blonde bombshell, looking more like a starlet than a lawyer, but she was one of the top ranked intellectual rights experts in the country and missed nothing. I didn't like the familiar flirting, and had a feeling they had history. Then she pulled out the baby pictures and I recognized her husband, one of the top actors in the business.

That's when I found out why we were in town. Mason couldn't get record sales and royalties to match up, and brought her on board. She had forensic accountants come in and they discovered systematic account mainpulating, equaling between fifteen and twenty per cent. Over a five year contract, the number was in the low millions. Mason had been in a band for two years before founding Gutwrench, and the first label had really screwed them, so he knew what to look for, plus he used his lawyer to help negotiate the deal, so there wasn't a lot of wriggle room when Gutwrench signed. He had them dead to rights, and they had no idea what was coming. The label thought he was in town to sign a new contract. They were going to get their feelings hurt.

Mason explained it all to me back in the room after dinner, so I would know what was coming, and to record the discussions.

Chapter 8

The next morning found us in the main conference room of the label. Mason walked in wearing a black suit, with a gleaming white shirt and a blue silk tie, his hair back in a ponytail, Gwen the lawyer on one side and me on the other. I had on a grey A line skirt that ended just below my knees, a matching gray jacket, and a lighter gray blouse. Gwen had what had to be a designer dress on, in muted blue. To match my look I had on a pair of catseye glasses, with just a few rhinestones.

"How do I look?," I asked, as I twirled around.

"You look like the hottest librarian to walk the planet."

"Good, shall we?"

The label had their lawyer there as well, in their opinion to vet any contract negotiation. There were also half a dozen scattered around the table whose function was anybody's guess. There were introductions and handshakes all round, and after the pleasantries were over the vice president got down to brass tacks.

"So, Mason, I hear you've been doing some writing, working with a few musicians who may be in your new band. What have you got for us?"

Gwen spoke up. "What we have, Mr. Montrose, is a document listing your less than legal accounting practices, with a pretty accurate estimate of how much you owe my client. Your law firm should be receiving a packet any second now, reviewing the findings. We will give you the rest of the day and until noon tomorrow to ascertain the validity of the claims, then tomorrow we will determine the proper amount of damages my client has suffered from your misconduct. I expect you to balk, even refuse to negotiate, but I warn you now, Mr. Eldridge is quite happy to go to court, even if it takes years to settle. We'll just be adding the interest on the money to the settlement, and will be happy to make sure everything is splashed all over the trades and national papers. Your legal advisors will tell you there is no chance of you coming out unscathed, to the point of criminal charges if this isn't resolved expediently. We'll leave you to it and be back here at one tomorrow, and I tell you now blowing us off would not be in your best interests. Your call."

We rose as a unit to leave, and inwardly I was laughing my ass off. Gwen was smirking, Mason was grinning, their lawyer looked like he was about to fill his pants, and Montrose waffled between rage and terror. I was hoping terror won out.

Two of his flunkies followed us down the hall on orders from the lawyer, hoping to get us back into the room. One even grabbed Mason's arm. He looked like he literally swelled up, his muscles threatening to rip the seams of his suit jacket. I put my hand over his. "I'm sure Gwen here would advise you to let go of her client, but I think you should keep it on him, just for the entertainment value of watching him kick your ass. If he does, we call both testify that you tried to unlawfully restrain him when it gets to court, and he won't be paying your medical bills. Want to reassess the situation?"

He looked at me for maybe half a second before letting go of his arm like it was on fire. No one else bothered us on the way to the elevators. "How do you think it went?," I asked Gwen just as soon as we were in the elevator. She just put her fingers to her lips and no one spoke until we were in our limo. "Whatever we say in there, even in the elevators and bathrooms, we must assume is being recorded. That being said, I doubt anyone is going to lunch today at the label's law firm, and I doubt if they go home until late tonight. Same for the management of the label. Mason, if you really want to push it, we can turn our information over to the DA. It's pretty clearcut, but music is big business in this town, almost as much as film, and they will do just about anything to stay out of the headlines. I see good things in the future."

Chapter 9

"Was what he said true? Are you putting a new band together?"

He shrugged. "I've been working on some things with a friend. I miss it, you know? The adrenalin rush I get on stage, the emotional high when a song comes together that you know is going to be one of your best, all the good parts. What I don't miss is endless touring, so if I do go out, it will be on my schedule, not a label's or promoters, and I'll have complete control of everything, or I'll stay home. If I decide, I'll give you a call so you can help me achieve my ends."

That seemed to please Gwen no end. We had dinner with her that night, along with her husband. The paparazzi in this town were relentless, but her husband had worked out a routine. He'd greet some by name, stand for a few photos, then tell them he was going to dinner with his wife, and he'd be back out in an hour or so. It mostly satisfied them, and most of the places they dined were very fussy over the experience they wanted their patrons to have, so interrutions were not tolerated. They always got a few pictures of him with Gwen, she was eye candy to the masses, and they loved her.

When we got to the place we were dining, the press were waiting for us. They recognized Mason instantly, and the shutters clicked like machine gun fire. The next day we were in a few dailies, and one of the subjects was who the hottie with Mason was.

He laughed his ass off when he showed them to me. "Get used to it if you stay around me. That's why I like my home to be on the other coast. Besides, when you live in a small town in the mountains, it's a little hard to sneak up on anyone. It's been tried three times, and locals made them instantly. All three times the local cops were waiting for them when they came out of the woods. It surprised them no end when they were arrested and thrown in jail for felony tresspass. That's a pretty serious charge, and two of them were arrested on Friday evening, which meant they got to be guests of the county for two days.

When they went in front of the Judge they got the shit scared out of them. He wanted to put bail at a million, because they were from out of state and he said they were a flight risk. It took a couple of hours of pretty intense conversation, but in the end he fined the hell out of them and turned them loose on the condition they never visit that part of Virginia ever again. They couldn't sign the papers quick enough. Word got out, and I've been out of the public eye for almost two years, so I'm old news. I haven't been bothered in over a year."

Then he gave me a warning, a warning I didn't heed. "We need to be careful out here, Sasha. Everybody out here seems to want something, and most will use any means available to get it. Gwen was slipped a date rape drug a while back at a dinner with a client. What he didn't know was the bartender was a personal friend who did most of the bar duties at their parties was watching them, and when he saw him slip her something, he called Ray. He got there just in time, because they were headed towards the door. The bartender had already called the cops but Ray got there first. He holds three belts in different forms, training he took to make his action films easier, and he nearly beat the man to death before the cops got there. They took statements, and Ray was lucky enough to get the sleaze to swing first and he didn't kill him, so he skated. The other guy got searched, then arrested, then taken to the hospital and handcuffed to a bed. Gwen was already there having blood work done, and the amount of drugs in her system made them keep her overnight, to make sure there were no side effects."

"What happened to the guy?"

"He was charged with possession, intent to commit rape, and causing grevious bodily harm for the drugs he put in her system. The man has another year to go on his sentence, and Ray arranged for his stay to be less than pleasant. He was an actor, but I doubt he resumes that profession when he gets out, especially if he tries to audition for leading man roles."

I shuddered. "Damn, that's intense. I'll never look at either one of them quite the same again."

"They're nice people in a not so nice environment, but this is where the money is, for them. It's why I like being a musician, I can just disappear if I want, and it doesn't hurt my income stream."

I thought about that over the next few days. Our short visit turned into a week and a half filled with negotiations and veiled threats, and after an appropriate amount of scrambling, followed by two days of ass kissing, Mason settled. 6.3 million. My eyes bulged. If he was owed that from past royalties, I wondered what he was really worth. The money didn't seem to impress him, and when they pushed for nondisclosure he laughed. "Word's already out, boys. I'm sure you'll be getting visits from lawyers for years to come."

The label was a subsidiary of a major label, and they took a dim view of the proceedings. There was a big article in Rolling Stone six months later about the firing of the entire upper management, and the demise of the label, citing it as an example to all musicians that no matter what their level was, make sure you knew what you were signing, and after you signed, make sure you kept track of the money.