Haze (2 page)

"Hi,
Sam
. Jack Teller, as you probably already knew. Sorry, I'm late. Long night in the studio."

Sam's perplexed look was almost as mesmerizing as Jack's beauty. "Uh, Effie, do you have a change of clothes? Why don't you go switch out of those—"

"I think she looks great," Jack said with a smile. "Take a seat, Effie." He was giving my name a test drive after hearing Sam say it.

I blushed and stood there silently for a few seconds, entirely unsure of whose orders I should take. However, my gut told me to
sit down
. "You can barely see the stain," I said proudly as I reoccupied my former chair.

"Sure, sure,
right." Sam closed the door and then walked past me and sat down where he had been before. "Mr. Teller, I really can't tell you how thrilled I am to have you here. You could do
huge things
with MCI." His tone was ingratiating.

"I'll see what you have to offer my client, and then I'll make my decision." Jack's words were firm, yet
reasonable.

The two men started to converse somewhat rapidly, exchanging terms that I didn't understand, making reference
s that were lost on me. I began admiring Jack's cadence when he spoke. The words seemed to flow effortlessly from him, the rhythm so subtle and controlled. There was a tiny twitch in his lip that seemed to surface after every couple of sentences, almost as if his muscles were trying to get in their fair say as well.

I almost burst out laughing at the though.

My mind started crawling toward the gutter, something that was incredibly unusual for me. I don't know if it was the boring subject matter or what, but I imagined my hands in Jack's hair, holding on tightly as he had his way with me. Something—well,
Sam
, more precisely—told me that Jack was
very good
at most things he did, and I was certain that the bedroom was another area where he excelled.

"And will M
s.
Effie
," he trailed off. "What's your last name? I didn't get it before." His eyes burned into me again. He wouldn't look away until I answered, that was for sure.

"Jacobs," I blurted, again too loudly. My cheeks were flushed red and warm. I felt as if he somehow knew what I had been thinking.

"Is Ms. Jacobs going to be the one handling A&R with the artist?"

I suddenly felt very embarrassed. When I looked at Sam, he seemed to be on the same path I was. "I hadn't arranged for that yet. Ms. Jacobs was just listening in on our meeting. She's in accounting and I wanted to give her a feel for one of these—"

"I thought I had asked for a rep," Jack interrupted. "I thought I had made it
very clear
that I don't make deals without face-to-face meetings with all parties involved."

Sam swallowed a lump in his throat. "I don't remember you saying that. I thought this was just preliminary."

"What do you think,
Ms. Jacobs
? Is this the
best possible deal
for my client? She's a new artist and she needs the best in the business. Is MCI the best?" I couldn't figure out how to read the tone of Jack's words. There was a mixture of harshness and curiosity. It actually felt as if he wanted my input even though it seemed painfully obvious that he knew that I barely grasped the situation.

I gulped, wishing I had something to drink. "I'm sure Sam can work out a fair deal with you, Mr. Teller." I didn't know what the hell I was saying.

"Jack, please. I'll drop the Ms. if you drop the Mr. Sounds too formal."

"Jack," I said, fulfilling his request.

"A
fair
deal, huh? That's all you can offer?"

I could tell that Sam was doing all in his power to keep himself composed. He had become so fragile, yet he was fighting hard to retain a positive outward appearance. "Jack, I'm sure we can—"

"
No
," Jack interrupted. "I like that. She didn't make a bunch of empty promises like I'm used to
you people
making. I'll very seriously consider MCI. But for now, I must be on my way. If this is a go, my people will call your people, all right?"

He stood up at once and shook Sam's hand very quickly before moving to mine. No,
this wasn't some normal handshake. Our right hands connected and then he brought his left hand over my right, caressing my palm and lightly stroking my knuckles. A shiver broke out across my body, one that I fought to hide.

"It's been a pleasure," Jack said, his
brilliant pale green eyes burning into mine. Again, I couldn't look away.

"Thanks, Jack," Sam said awkwardly as the
music business mogul
and
genius
departed the boardroom and closed the door behind him. After he had disappeared, I collapsed in the chair, my lungs deflating immediately like an untied balloon.

"What the hell was that?" I said. "The whole thing was so surreal."

"At least he was nice to
you
," Sam said.

"Is that a good thing? He
seemed so cocky," I mumbled, hoping that Jack didn't suddenly reappear in the door.

"Some of these guys are like that. They get famous and their appetites only get worse. If they want it, it's
theirs
." He paused and then a warm smile broke out across his face. "Hell, I'd do the same thing too if I could."

"Sam!" I cried. "That's terrible. There's more to life than girls and fancy vacations."

"Don't be so sure about that," he said, his smile remaining. "I can't believe he played me like that in front of you, though. Tough son of a bitch."

"What are you talking about?" I wasn't sure what he meant. The whole thing had seemed unusually intense, but I had assumed it was typical in this line of work.

"This
was
a preliminary meeting. He never said anything about having an A&R person here. I don't know why he said that. I'm not making this up."

"Well,
you know better than me." This whole development confused me even more, and something told me that my future was going to include a lot more moments like this one.

"I wish that were the case." Sam shrugged. "I really do."

Chapter 2

I worked the best I could the rest of the day, my mind constantly drifting from subject to subject and then immediately reverting back to Jack and our strange introduction. He had
quickly become my mind's prime fixation. Nice, clumsy fellow one second, devious schemer the next. I couldn't figure him out.

When Sam went to lunch, I sat frozen to my chair, staring at my computer screen. Something told me that I needed to learn more about Jack, but something also told me to let it go. I took a few deep breaths and settled on
letting it go
. Once I was less confused, I'd resume my investigation; an investigation that I convinced myself was only based on curiosity.

I could be so gullible sometimes...

As weird as the whole encounter was—coffee spilling, aggressive questioning, supposed lying about the purpose of the meeting—a glimmer of bizarre optimism remained. Was I just
that desperate
that the mere thought of a hot guy was enough to fire me up right now, to engulf me in flames?

I wasn't new to the dating game at all. I dated in high school, and I had two primary boyfriends in college. Well, and a brief
depressed party girl phase where I was a little more “open” than I probably should have been. It was really amazing what drunken frat boys could get
super drunk
sorority girls to do with each other just by asking.

Thankfully, that had ended almost as quick as it had started, and the damage control had been adequate.

I still had moments where I thought about
him
—
him
being my last ex, Timothy—but they were starting to fade away entirely. The decision to break up had been somewhat unexpected, the product of my desire to pursue this job in NYC.

I met him between my sophomore and junior years of college, and everything had been great. He was an engineering major—a lucrative field, I must say; I was very jealous of the sheer number of job offers he received upon graduating—but his ties to his family were
weirdly strong.

So, when he got a job offer in a small town near his hometown, he insisted that he take it and that I move there with him. Honestly, my future had looked pretty bleak at that time, so I initially said a resoundingly weak
yes
. But then uncertainty burrowed deeply in my mind like the pest that it was. I felt painfully restrained and restricted by the idea of perpetual small-town life. And something told me Timothy wasn't going to budge for anything.

When I found out about the job offer at MCI
Music Group, I hid it initially. I didn't tell Timothy, even when I flew out for the interview. I knew it would crush him, but suddenly it had become
him
versus
me
, even though we were in a relationship together. So I lied—I hated lying, but in that moment, what other option did I have?—and said I was visiting my grandmother to cause fewer problems up front.

He freaked out when I told him I was going to take the job; thankfully he didn't
break anything. Timothy totally had the option of moving with me since he’d gotten numerous job offers in both NYC and New Jersey, but he would make zero compromises in the
close to home
category. And when he gave me an ultimatum—come with me, or we're over—I knew what I had to do for
myself
and
my future
.

As much as he wanted to drag me through the mud, I knew I wasn't actually being selfish. My parents applauded my decision, their happiness a combination of their approval of my ambition as well as their mild dislike for Timothy.

Even though I was never comfortable doing anything to hurt him, my mind was made up. He knew where he wanted to be, and I couldn't change that. Timothy went his way, and I had gone mine almost two months ago. To make matters even worse, Timothy and I shared a number of mutual friends—and they had taken his side.

So yeah, I was definitely interested in starting over again in
a new place. Part of me didn't like that I was dismissing Timothy so easily, but then again, our negotiations had come to an abrupt stop—his choice, or we were over. It was downright selfish on his end, and it hurt. I let it go, deciding there was no need to get hung up on the total inflexibility of someone else, especially when it was entirely at the expense of my well being.

I also didn't want to let go of those friends, but for now, I'd just have to leave it alone. Timothy was probably feeding them a steady diet of
lies
and
deceit
, and I was too far away to do anything serious about it.

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. Sam
remained stressed out about the offer, so I tried to comfort him by drawing attention to the fact that Jack
had
actually claimed to be interested in MCI. He legitimately had said he was interested—it wasn't just wishful thinking or a dumb platitude. Those promising words were the only positive weapon I had.

However, w
e still didn't hear anything from Jack for the next two days, which left us with the weekend. Sam was bent out of shape, but what the hell could we do anyway? It was Jack's decision, and that was that. Sam would just have to survive a couple more days, I was sure of that.

Oh, weekend...

***

My Craigslist searches had led me to the lovely neighborhood of Astoria. I found
a spare room in a two-bedroom apartment with a guy named Jesse, a finance major at NYU whose long-term goal was investment banking. He was interning with a major banking firm and gone a lot of the time for work-related stuff. As a result, I usually had the apartment to myself, an added perk. Jesse had a girlfriend too, Laura, but she lived in New Jersey and had her own stuff going on during much of the week.

Jesse
was usually absent when I got home, but Friday night, he was there, dressed in a fancy, tailored suit. "Hey, Effie!" he shouted as I walked in. I was shocked to see him, even though he lived here.

"Jesse! Wow, don't you look nice!" He usually dressed nice for work, but this was a couple steps above that. "Are you going out with Laura tonight? Something fancy?
Ballroom gala?
"

A big, mischievous smile broke o
ut across his face. "No, just a dumb investor meeting at the New York Palace." He paused for a second. "Wanna come?"

"You want
me
to come to the
New York Palace
with you?" I asked. I was definitely confused.

"The party is at
the Madison Room. Free drinks and hors d'oeuvres. Laura can't make it, and I get one guest. I wouldn't want this great opportunity to go to waste." He looked a little desperate, but then again, this was a huge offer.