TGI FRIDAY THROW OUT

Welcome once again.


Another week has passed. I have fallen seriously behind in my Nano word count. Le sigh. Well, I guess we can't all be winners. It is Friday, and I apologize for failing to post yesterday. I have a serious case of brain fry and the can't evens are strong this week. However, I do have a piece to share from last week. Written from the male POV of my ill fated rock star. Hope you enjoy!


The Rock Star Diaries




Gage
The stuffy redheaded bird is back. Fredrick wasn’t kidding when he said she could freeze out a yeti. What that girl needs is a good shagging. When I saw her, in her three-piece pantsuit and glasses last night I knew she would be perfect. There is no way I will be tempted by this munter. Able seems quite taken with her, which is just fine with me, keeps the git from invading my space.


I enter the sitting area, to find her with a laptop open on her knees. She does not notice me approach her from behind. She stretches her long arms above her head, and a wonderful light tropical scent fills the area I am now standing in. Her head starts to bob, and I finally notice the ear buds hanging from her ears. Trying not to startle her, I move to the side of the room, hoping she sees me enter her periphery. Just as I am about to reach her side, she starts to quietly sing. Like a punch in the gut, I stop breathing. Her voice is like the trill of angels, and it renders me speechless.


Finally realizing I am here, she jumps with a start. Pulling the ear buds out quickly, she slides her laptop off of her folded legs on to the cushion next to her. She stands and offers me her hand, red faced. I shake it, returning the gesture she made last night. Standing to her full height, I can tell she is built like a runway model. Not much by way of curves, more of the heroin sheik look. Why must females always starve themselves, I shall never understand.


“I apologize for my tardiness miss Jarnot, I suspect you weren’t waiting long?”


She looks at me quizzically and glances at her watch. “Actually I wasn’t due to be here for another hour, Mr. Thorne. If you have things to do, I don’t mind working here until you are ready. “


“No, that won’t be necessary, and please call me Gage.”


“Absolutely, please call me Jet.”


I raise an eyebrow at the nickname. I would say it does not fit the wench in the least. Crossing to the chaise lounge on the other side of   the room, I send a text to Able. He should be back soon, and I am going to need my lunch delivered tut suite. The fiery lass glares at me from over her glasses, as I answer my emails and confirm reservations and tour dates. With an aggravated huff, she resumes her original position on the couch, pulling her laptop back into place. My attention is called to her perfect feet, adorned with red polish, neatly tucked under her. I must be staring, because she clears her throat once more, scowling in that uppity way. Damnit this tart is wound about as tight as a clock.


“Sorry love, I will just be another minute.” I apologize, but I don’t know why. This bird makes me feel like a naughty schoolboy, and not in a good way. I am hoping this situation will work for the both of us, but if she doesn’t learn to lighten up, we may have a problem. My phone chimes alerting me that Able is on his way back. I hope that having him around as a distraction will get the knot out of her knickers.


I doubt it.


**
Fin

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