Read His Jazz Affair Online

Authors: Nicky Fife

His Jazz Affair (3 page)

Mike never took her seriously as she was always smitten with one actor or the other. All women were like that he figured. Always living in their fantasies and never seeing the everyday dude that passed by them.

Tracy only ever had two serious relationships in her life, one with a college mate who turned out to be a drunk and then a university mate. She had broken up with her last boyfriend a year ago, they had been together two years and he cheated on her with one of her friends.

Mike had stood by her through the ordeal, and he was happy she was completely over him. He hoped that one day she would find a nice man who deserved a sweet girl like her.

“See you tomorrow for another session. Tell Sarah I will call her later!” he shouted as he closed the door behind him. Leaving Tracy with a smug look on her face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

Tracy hurriedly put on her shoes as she ran for the taxi; she was late for an appointment with Guy at his house. Imagine them of all people getting to play at an n event at his house! She hastily gave the driver the address which she had scribbled over the phone with Mike. Even though he was in charge of bookings for the band, he had asked her to go because he thought she would score more points as she was already an employee of Guy.

“But I don’t know him, he doesn’t know me either!” she complained over the phone.

Mike was convinced that she could effortlessly drop a hint that she worked for him. Maybe he wouldn’t recognise her from yesterday she hoped. She will be at her best composed behaviour, even if it killed her.

It was an important event as Guy was hosting some prominent business people who had donated to his charities. It would give the band good media coverage, and free marketing. They were sure to get a few more contracts through this event. And maybe they could become full time musicians. And stop waitressing, she thought to herself.

Tracy went over her conversation with Guy, in her head on what to say, and hopefully what not to say. It was going to be a hell of a test to be in his presence and be professional. Her stomach growled, nervousness flooding her body.

Should she call him Mr Scot, or by his first name? He always insisted on first names for the hotel staff. It was company policy as it promoted a more relaxed working environment, he said. Maybe I will let him speak first, she thought. Yes. Let him speak. He was the smooth operator.

It was a large beautiful Victorian house that had been in the family three generations, she remembered reading it somewhere. It had been well kept through the years and still maintained its old charm. Large grounds with pretty rose bushes bordering around them. Tracy could see several men pitching up tents and fixing up a stage. It looked all set for the event tomorrow, Saturday.

She got off the taxi and walked to the front door admiring the big house, ringing the bell as she rubbed her palms on her jeans. She rang it a couple of times more without an answer. Eventually she walked up to one of the men asking if he had seen Guy.

“Oh you are the band people? He is picking up a few things and will be back soon. You can wait around in the gardens.” he said as he continued pulling up the tent.

Tracy wondered about enjoying the breeze that was in the air. No one paid attention to her. They were engrossed in their work to admire the jean that hugged her hips or that little tank top that left nothing to the imagination.

She saw a man approaching her and recognised him as a free lance journalist who had covered their interview at one time. He was a tall man with long hair, a chain smoker. His teeth were coloured by the smoke.

She didn’t like him much because he had been too forward, dropping hints of sleeping with her.  A few exaggerated statements and their band could get access to social bloggers who would give a good review about them.

He made empty promises but Tracy knew better. The entertainment industry was full of opportunist and most had long tales that amounted to nothing.  Just wolves in sheep skin and Todd was the worst of them all.

She had been insulted and had told him in her most annoyed voice to back off. He had not been amused she had seen. Silently he had let it go then but his eyes burned with anger at the small girl.

“Tracy, my girl! So you are playing here?” He smelt of cigarette smoke as usual. The odour was overwhelming, Tracy stepped back.

“Yeah we are, just waiting for Mr Scot. “She replied civilly.

He made small talk but he could see she wasn’t interested. Eventually he gave up. She was the ice queen no melting her frozen heart.

"Ok, see you later. I will be covering this event, so you will see more of me. I am supposed to meet Sheila, but I guess she got busy” He said as he moved off.

I hope I won’t see you again, she mumbled to herself. It was enough dealing with him once, but never again. Todd made her uneasy. His beady eyes darted over her undressing her. She felt dirty at his scrutiny.

She spurn on her heels nervous, her throat had suddenly going dry. She walked over to some rose bushes and soon she forgot the men around. She must have wondered off, because soon the voices were a blur in the background.

She walked over to a small pond that had some colourful fish swimming about. She was smiling to herself imagining herself a bright little fish when she lifted her head to brush off a butterfly that had landed on her shoulder.

As she turned she unexpectedly saw him and for a moment she was stunned and took a step backwards stepping into the pond.

Guy saw her fall in a loud splash and ran to help her up.

Tracy spluttered in the water she tried to regain her balance. It wasn’t a deep pool and soon she was standing in waist high water drenched through. Not again, she reflected to herself. What is wrong with me, what will Guy think of me?

“Are you alright?” he asked concerned and stretched his hand out to help her out. Tracy took it gratefully as she was pulled out of the water. Up close he was more devastating than before.

“I hope my phone is still working.” That was all Tracy could come up with.

“As long as you are alright” he said. He looked at the poor girl with weeds hanging in her hair. She was more beautiful than he remembered, with the sun playing in her hair. She was like a mermaid from a fairytale book, with no fish tail, but long long legs.

“Oh you are the waitress!” he started, knowing well who she was. He would never forget her. She was in his mind all day.

“You remember me?" Tracy was nervous. Did he plan on firing her? Did Sheila suggest that?

“I never forget a face.” He said continuing to hold her hand.

“Thank you for pulling me out.” She said awkwardly removing her hand. Why would he put her face to memory? It was most likely a business technique, she thought to herself.

“I am sorry Mr Scot; I hope I didn’t land on a fish.” She apologised.

“I am sure they will be fine,” he reassured her. “Call me Guy."

"Ok, Guy." She nodded embarrassment washing over her.

They stood for a moment looking at each other and Tracy could swear she was going to pass out in embarrassment. She must look a sight with her t-shirt plastered to her body, nipples pointed begging to be sucked.

“I had come to talk about the gig, what time do you want us here?” she was shaking in her clothes.

“Let’s get you out of those wet clothes and get you dry and we will talk about it,” he said suddenly remembering that they were within earshot of the workmen. Her boy was enticing and he wanted to swoop her in his arms and lay her on that lawn and do things that would tickle her fancy.

He looked at the wet t shirt plastered to her breasts, and Guy was mesmerized by her nipples which were two little peaks on her t-shirt. His eye burned through her and she felt her body responding.

She was turned on by the man just by being here with him. Appalled by her body, she crossed her arms around her chest to cover her breasts. “Are we going to ehhhh...." her voice trailed off.

"Let’s get you out of those wet clothes." He murmured his voice almost croaking.

He cleared his throat. She was an itch he wanted to scratch real badly.

He led her to a private path away from the garden into a bedroom. It was a private guest bedroom that was directly off the garden. It was a beautiful room with marble floors and luxurious furniture.

Tracy stood in the middle of the room unsure what to do. He moved over to her and for a moment she felt his presence behind her. What was he going to do, she wondered.

Guy went over to the closet and pulled out a clean white shirt. “You can wear this. Remove your clothes and give them to me I will dry them for you. I am going out to the garden to see the men off, they have finished.”

Tracy stood in the middle of the room unsure what to say.

“I will dry your clothes for you. I will bring them later on. Just leave them out by the door I will pick them up.” he closed the door softly behind him.

He had to get away from her. She was some potent drug in his system, and he was getting drunk in her beauty. He was a grown man not to be swayed by a young chick without her even her trying.

Tracy removed her jeans and t- shirt and decided to keep on her bra and panties. It would just be too embarrassing for him to get personal with her under garments she decided. She put on the shirt wondering if it was one of his. Since it was a guest room she decided it was perhaps an extra shirt for the guests.

She went on about the room touching the furniture letting herself be carried away by the luxury. It was getting late with the sun setting. Outside the door she heard him pick up her wet clothes. There was a pause outside the door, and for a moment she wondered if he would come back.

She walked out through the double french doors leading to a small patio that had a small table and chairs. It was a beautiful place, relaxing and serene.

She wondered about his life. Did he live alone? She knew that his only sister lived in Europe. It was such a big house for one person. She wondered what he thought about her falling into the pond like that. She was always clumsy around him.

Tracy could hear the sound of the trucks leaving and soon there was silence.  All alone now, she thought.

Oh dear I better be going as well, she decided. It would be too tempting to be around him all by herself.

As she was standing there admiring the house when Guy walked over and stood behind her for a moment was enchanted by the light playing around her. Her hair was starting to dry curling about her face, softening her facial features. She looked like a teenager, young and innocent, never been touched. But she wasn’t she was a grown woman, and he was a grown man.

"It is beautiful isn't it?" He said admiring the setting sun in its orange glory. But she was even more beautiful in his shirt with a glimpse of thighs peeping through.             

"Oh yes.” Tracy agreed turning, smiling and him.

With the light behind him she was blinded by the setting rays and could not see his eyes clearly. He moved over closer to her, and she saw the fire in his eyes. He reached his hand out and brushed it across her cheek. So, so soft and silky.

"Hmm hmm," A clearing throat sounded behind them.  They jumped apart like guilty teenagers.

It was the journalist. Todd stood there is eyes gleaming on the couple that stood guilty in front of him. Guy had completely forgotten about him. He must have been wondering about the house, or he was sneaking up on them deliberately.

"I had forgotten you were still here Todd, let me see you off." Guy's voice was on edge.

Tracy was embarrassed and could not turn and look at them as they walked away. That guy was not to be trusted. But they did not do anything wrong. So why was she feeling guilty?

Guy had left her clothes on the bed. She hurriedly put on put on her jeans and a shirt now very eager to leave.

She was getting carried away, this man was like an aphrodisiac. She would drown in her lust if she remained here.

Guy was waiting for her in the dining area, slowly sipping his whisky. He was angry with himself. He should have made sure that they were completely alone. One minute later and it would have been an awkward situation for them all. If that journalist had not walked in, he would have had her on her back he was sure

He was moving in too fast, she was not a worldly woman to be had at his whim. Guy was afraid she could balk and run away if he wasn't careful.

“You are to perform for three hours," he started. He was cold and distant. As if Tracy had imagined the whole moment.

He went over what the band was to do, and the payments involved. The professional again, no hot eyes on her, in fact he avoided contact with her gaze.

Tracy could not believe that he was acting like nothing happened. He was now proficient the fire gone from his eyes. Had she imagined it all?

She agreed with him, and quietly signed the contract he offered. Guy was her boss she had to remind herself.

He was almost, cold. He acted impatient to be done with her. Tracy felt a pang of disappointment. Was this how he was with women, blowing hot then old?

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