The Roommate, Kiersten Modglin [best books for 20 year olds .txt] 📗

I glanced back at him. “Yeah, just a second.”

“Come on, Elias. I need you to leave. We talked about this,” I said, keeping my voice low, my eyes pleading with him.

I watched as he licked the sauce from one of his fingers, working his way through all five slowly. When he was finished, he smiled up at me wildly. “Don’t worry about me. I know the rules. I’ll be gone by nine, just as soon as I finish eating. You won’t even know I’m here. Go take care of your guests. I’ll sneak out when I’m done.”

“I’m not allowed to have you here—”

“Wes, where do you want us to set up?” The DJ, Dalton, walked in, an entire setup crew behind him.

“I—”

“Wes, we really need to get this stuff brought in. Come on, man, I’m double parked,” Rodney called with frustration.

“Go on,” Elias said plainly, taking a seat at the next table with a wicked smile on his face. “Sounds like you have work to do. Don’t worry about me.”

“I—” The entire room was looking at me, and I knew my face must’ve been pink with anger, but there was nothing I could do. I groaned, walking away from him, my stomach sick with rage. “You can set up in the far corner. There are plug-ins over there,” I told Dalton, nodding at Rodney. “Let’s go get these. Sorry about that. I’ll be right back in,” I called to no one in particular and everyone all at once.

Of course, when we came back inside, Elias had not only not left, but he was happily chatting with the DJ as he set up his equipment. I groaned, heaving the oversized photo of Layla over the threshold and into the room. I set it up on its easel near the door and helped Rodney unload the rest of the photos of her and the plaque the record label had sent over.

Layla’s manager, Justin, came in just as I was making my way across the room to confront Elias.

“Wes!” he called, waving me over. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath from all the anger and frustration. This was supposed to be a night of celebration, not only for my client, but for the agency, for the record label, and for myself for getting it all together so quickly. Why was Elias hell-bent on ruining just as much as he fixed for me? I just didn’t get him.

Ryan threw an arm around me, whispering in my ear. “Okay, here’s the deal: Layla is still good to sing a few songs tonight, but she’s dealing with a sore throat, so we were thinking we could keep it low-key, maybe just some acoustic, stripped down songs so she isn’t belting, you know?” He looked behind us. “Do we have instruments here?”

“I can get some,” I promised, though I had no idea if I could.

“Okay, perfect.” He patted my chest and released me. “And keep it between us about the…” He gestured to his throat. “The tour starts next week, and we’re keeping all the vibes positive.” He crossed both sets of fingers.

I nodded as he walked away from me, and I immediately began searching for Rodney. Just as he zipped past me, I grabbed at his shirt. “Rodney, wait!” He stopped short, out of breath as he buzzed around trying to get everything set up. “I need you to run out and get some equipment.”

He looked as exhausted as I felt as I rambled off the instructions. “Go to a music shop on Broadway called Evanston’s. Ask for Dan. He’s the owner, and he owes me a few favors. We need an acoustic guitar and a keyboard. Tell him it’s for me.”

Rodney nodded. “We need them tonight? For this? We have the tracks for Layla to perform here already.”

“Yeah, there’s been a change of plans, and I just found out. Listen, tell Dan I’ll get it all back to him tomorrow. Call me if there are any issues. You have my number in your phone?”

He nodded. “Okay, get going then. And thank you.” He dashed away from me just as I heard the door opening again and more people beginning to pile in the room, filling the tables and dance floor quickly as the time grew closer to nine.

“What are you doing?” I asked Elias when I got near him.

He looked confused for a second, but then clarity came over his expression. “Oh, sorry, man.” He pointed to the clock on the wall. “Look, it’s not even nine yet. I got distracted talking to Dalton here. Did you know he’s from a place called Booger Hole, West Virginia?” He let out a delighted laugh, clutching his stomach, his cheeks bright red. “Can you imagine? Booger Hole? Where are you from? Oh, I’m from Booger Hole.” He let out another scream of laughter, echoing through the room.

“Elias, please!” I begged. “This is my job. You can’t be here right now. I’m begging you.”

“He’s not botherin’ me,” Dalton said. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

Elias looked at me defiantly, and I nodded at Dalton, then put a hand on Elias’ shoulder and led him away so we could talk privately. “What’s going on? You promised me you’d leave when you finished eating. Why are you doing this to me? Do you want me to get fired?”

“Of course not, bud,” he said. “I’m sorry. I just got carried away. I really don’t want you to get into trouble. I’m just so mesmerized by it all. I’ve never gotten to attend a fancy Hollywood party.”

“This isn’t a Hollywood party. It’s an agency party for one of our clients, and the guest list is closed, like I told you. You need to leave, Elias. Now.”

“I will, I will,” he teased, patting me on the shoulder as he walked past me in no hurry whatsoever. “Jeez, Mom. Hold your horses.”

I took off after him, just as one of the waitstaff approached me, stopping me in my tracks. “I’m sorry to interrupt.