Sunday, January 27, 2013

Chapter 3



Monday morning dawned bright and sunny and it was already eighty-five degrees in New York City at eight thirty in the morning as Brianna walked through the door of Bon Jovi Management on her first day of work.

Evelyn was already at her desk and smiled upon seeing her. “Ready to join the madness?”

“Looking forward to it!” Brianna grinned.

“Then you’re as crazy as the rest of us and will fit right in. Come on, I’ll show you your office. HR will be by in a few minutes with a bunch of forms for you to sign. Jon’s mail will be brought to you.” She turned into an open doorway.  “Oh! It’s already here!”

Brianna stepped into the surprisingly large room, noting the oak desk – with the pile of mail on the blotter – facing the windows on the opposite side of the room. The wall to her right was bare except for one of Tico’s paintings and the door that connected to Jon’s office on the other side.

Evelyn noticed the direction of Brianna’s gaze. “That painting can be removed if you want something else.”

Brianna shook her head. “No. It’s perfect. I love Tico’s work. I have a piece myself.”

That’s a positive sign. Maybe this one will last longer than the last three did. “Okay, good. Umm...what else? Oh, Paul’s in the office today, so he might stop by. Your Blackberry is in the top drawer, Jon’s numbers are already programmed in. Computer passwords are with the phone as is a printout of what’s been confirmed on Jon’s schedule. The blue folder there is the outstanding invitations. I think Natalie, your predecessor, left you a note detailing anything she thought you should be aware of.”

“What happened to her?”

Evelyn debated her response and settled for partial truth. “Personality conflicts.” She didn’t bother to mention that she’d only lasted three months or that the two before her barely made it a year each.

“Ah. I see.” And Brianna had a feeling her immediate thought was probably correct. Working for a strong, perfectionist control freak was never easy. “Will Jon be in today?”

“Not that I’m aware of, but anything’s possible.” Evelyn gave her a speculative look. “Did anyone tell you that he’s not here much and you’ll probably have to go out to the house a lot?”

“No, but I wondered if that might be the case. That’s not a problem. I have a car.” She didn’t use it much – didn’t need to in NYC – but she owned one.

“Good. Well, I’ll let you get settled in. If you have any questions, feel free to call me.” She pointed to one of the buttons on the phone. “This one is me.”

“Thanks Evelyn.” Alone, Brianna sat down behind the desk, took a deep breath, and dug in. She found the password list for the computer and phone, and familiarized herself with both technological aides. Next, she looked over Jon’s schedule, the note from Natalie and the outstanding invitations.

She picked up the letter opener and was reaching for the envelope on the top of the pile of mail when a knock at the door had her glancing up to see Paul Korzilius, the band’s tour manager standing there. “Hi Paul, come on in.”

Paul smiled and approached her desk, only slightly surprised that she knew who he was. Jon had told him she was a fan, but he also realized that if she was even half decent at her job, she would have done some research on the organization. “Hi Brianna. I just wanted to come by and introduce myself and welcome you to the organization.”

Brianna stood and met his outstretched hand with her own in a firm handshake. “Thank you. I’m really happy to be here.”

“We’re starting to get the tour lined up, so as soon as I get some potential dates I’ll let you know.”

“Okay. How is that usually done? Does Jon have to approve everything or do you look after it?”

“Jon and I have discussed starting dates and countries and spacing of shows. I passed that on to AEG who will organize and promote the tour. When they get some preliminary dates, I’ll sit down with Jon and go over them with him.”

“Okay. So if I have a date where Jon needs to be somewhere should I come to you or go to AEG?”

“Come to me and I’ll pass it on.”

“Okay. That makes sense. The fewer people with their fingers in that pie the less chance for screw ups.”

Paul chuckled, very pleased that she understood without having to have it explained to her. “Exactly. If you have any other questions or need anything, give me a call.”

“Thanks Paul.”

Brianna spent the rest of the morning getting her files and email set up and organized. On her way back from lunch she stopped and picked out some other items she felt she’d need and arranged for their delivery. Evelyn stopped her as she walked through the door.

“Oh, Brianna. Jon called.  He would like you to go out to the house on Friday morning.” She smiled reassuringly when she saw Brianna’s eyes widen as she reached for her phone to see if she’d missed his call. “It’s okay. He called to talk to Paul and asked me to pass on the message. Apparently Paul will have some tour info for you to take with you. Plus, no one has programmed your number into his phone yet. You’ll probably have to do that when you’re there as well.”

“Oh. Okay.” Brianna started towards her office, then stopped, remembering. “Um....a delivery guy from the office supply store will be coming by with some stuff for me.”

“No problem. I’ll either buzz you or bring them back myself.”

“Thanks.”

Settling in at her desk again, Brianna picked up the phone and started making the contacts – the initial ones anyway – that she would need to do her job well. First up was the Soul office, specifically Jennifer, Craig Spencer’s assistant. After getting brought up to speed on scouting, recruiting, contract negotiations with various players and coaches and what Jon would be needed for, they promised to keep in touch and hung up.

Before she could make the next call, the men arrived with the office supplies she’d ordered and she moved out of the way so that they could hang the large four month dry erase calendar behind her desk. She would have a blind installed above it so that she could pull it down if she had people in and needed to hide it.

Evelyn watched, her expression revealing her curiosity. “What’s that?”

“It’s a calendar. Sometimes it helps me to see it on a larger scale than the computer when I’m trying to fit items in an already packed schedule.” Brianna explained.

“Well Jon’s would certainly qualify from time to time. Especially with a tour coming up.” She glanced at the markers Brianna was lining up.

Brianna noticed the direction of her gaze and explained. “Black for band, blue for football, red for family, green for charities.”

“Ah...so you can see the whole picture with one look. I get it. Clever.”

“Thanks. He’s got so many irons in the fire, I figured this was going to be the easiest way to keep track of everything.”

When she was alone in the office once more, she picked up the phone again. Next on her list was David’s assistant, Rachel.

“So you’re the next lamb to the slaughter...I mean....”

Brianna laughed. “So he really is as bad as the stories I’ve heard?”

“Well, he’s no Mr. Rogers. He tends to be a little demanding and temperamental.”

“Sounds like every CEO I’ve ever worked for.”

“You’re used to it then. You should be fine. And he’s usually very fair.”

“What’s it like to work for the Joker?”

“Pretty easy most of the time. He’s been tinkering around with this musical, so he’s pretty much been chained to the piano for the last while.”

Memphis? Or a new one?”

Rachel’s brows rose. “Memphis. You’ve heard of it?”

“I’ve read a couple reviews of the Paulo Alto shows.”

“Ah. Well there’s been some whispers floating around about Broadway, so they’re trying to get it ready if something works out.”

“Well, I hope it does. He deserves it.”

“Yes he does.”

After making tentative plans to have lunch the following week, they hung up and Brianna placed her next call. “Hi Denise, this is Brianna Prentiss, Jon’s new assistant.”

“Ah, the brave woman willing to take on the lion.”

“As long as he only roars and doesn’t claw, we’ll be alright.” Brianna laughed. “He’s not really that bad is he?”

“I’ve seen worse.”

“And what’s your boss like?”

“Richie? He’s a dream to work for. I’ve worked for him for over two years and I think I’ve only heard him raise his voice in anger once. He’s the calming essence of the group. He steps in when Jon’s stress level gets too high.”

“And what are the roles of the others?” Brianna had to ask.

“Tico is the stable voice of reason and David’s comic relief.”

Pretty much like I figured then. “The tour ought to be interesting.”

“Yeah. It’s usually like a roller coaster ride...that you never want to end.”

It turned out that Denise was going on vacation with a stop in New York the following week before flying out, and agreed to join Brianna and Rachel for lunch. 




Brianna had started packing up to go home when her phone rang, startling her. A glance at the display told her the boss was calling. She took a deep breath. “Brianna speaking.”

“Yeah Bri, it’s me.....Jon.”

Bri. No one outside of her family called her that. Her ex-husband thought it wasn’t refined enough and insisted everyone call her by her full name. But it felt strangely right....and that made her nervous. “Hi Boss. What can I do for you?”

It wasn’t unusual for his staff members to call him ‘Boss’, but hearing her say it felt wrong somehow....and that made him nervous. “I forgot a blue file folder on my desk. Could you bring it with you on Friday? Oh and call Craig Spencer’s office and find out where we’re at with contract negotiations with that jack linebacker.”

“I talked to Jennifer a little while ago. Looks like he’s ready to sign. We’ll know for sure tomorrow. And she’s going to courier over the scouting reports on the two kickers they’ve been looking at.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Is that alright?”

“Yeah. It’s great. Perfect. I’ll see you on Friday. Evelyn can give you directions...if you need them.” Jon hung up and stared at the phone in his hand. First day on the job and she’s already more on top of things than Natalie was after three months! It made him hopeful that this one might work out.   

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Chapter 2



Arriving back home, Jon was met by his three-year-old son.

“Hi Daddy!”

“Hi Jakey.”  Jon scooped him up for a hug and started walking towards the kitchen. “What did you do today?”

“Bugged Jesse.”

His ten-year-old’s words no doubt. “Wouldn’t he let you play with him?”

Jake shook his head, his bottom lip coming out in a pout. “Him had Paul and Kenny to pay wif.” His face brightened and he smiled. “But I hepped Mommy wif baby Ro. Him into eveyting!”

“I bet Mommy appreciated the help then.” Jon’s lip twisted into a smirk at the image.

Jake nodded. “Her said I was de bestest hepper her ever had!”

“You sure were.” Dorothea confirmed as they entered the kitchen where she was checking on the roast she was cooking for dinner. She glanced at her husband. “Hi. How did the interviews go? Any good prospects?”

“Maybe. Where are the other kids?”

“Steph’s keeping an eye on Romeo in the den and Jesse’s in the theatre with his friends.”

Jon dropped the folder he was carrying on the table and set Jake down, smiling as the toddler immediately took off out of the room. Stepping closer, he slid his arms around his wife’s waist and pulled her against him, dipping his head to capture her lips for a thorough taste. “Mmmm. Now I’m home.”

Dorothea hugged him, then leaned back. “Tell me about the latest batch of wannabe slaves.”

Jon released her and walked over to the cupboard.  Taking out two glasses he poured them some ice tea from the jug in the fridge. Returning to the table, he set them down, pulled out a chair and sat, motioning to his wife to join him. When she complied, he handed her the folder. “These are the ones I interviewed today.”

He sipped while she read through the resumes and gave her a rundown of his discussions with each candidate. When she got to Brianna’s he leaned forward. “She’s a fan, but doesn’t seem to be a rabid one, and she’s got some interesting ideas.”

Dorothea watched her husband’s face as he relayed their conversation. She hadn’t seen him this animated in a long time. The famous blue eyes sparkled, the lines brought on by age and deepened by stress eased and he looked more relaxed than he’d been in months. Apparently this woman had struck a chord with him. That alone made her curious. These days he was very cautious when meeting new people. When he finished speaking, she tapped the resume with a decisive finger. “This is the one.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Anyone who can get past your barriers and catch your interest in an hour is definitely the one you need working for you.” She glanced at the resume again. “And by the looks of her past employers she’s got the patience and thick skin needed to deal with your temper and perfectionist tendencies.” Unlike the last three.

“You make it sound like I’m an ogre to deal with.”

“Well, you’re not green and you prefer mansions to swamps and sushi to bugs, but….”

“Ha ha.” He wrinkled his nose at her. “I’m not that bad.” As one feminine brow lifted, he sighed. “Well, not all the time.” He leaned towards her. “Not when I’m with my princess.”

Delicate fingers stroked his cheek. “My many layered onion.”

A thought struck and Jon chuckled. “I guess that makes David Donkey?”

“Let’s see….annoying ass that never shuts up? Sounds about right.” Dorothea laughed.

“What..or who…does that make Richie?” His wife’s view of his friends and bandmates always made him smile – and were never far off the mark.

Dorothea thought for a moment before replying. “Puss in Boots. He doesn’t do the accent as well as Antonio – even though he thinks he can - but he’s as sneaky as a cat and always manages to get himself out of trouble with those big, sad eyed looks.” A few seconds later, her expression turned serious again. “What does she look like?”

“Does it matter?” He didn’t pretend not to know who she was referring to. They’d been together over twenty years – he knew how her mind worked.

She noted his defensive tone, but ignored it. “No, I’m just curious. Is she attractive?”

He shrugged. “I guess. She’s about five seven or so, dark red hair, not fat, but not stick thin either.”

“I’d like to meet her.” His brief description didn’t fool her. There was something in his eyes that told her he was downplaying her looks.

 His gaze turned wary. “Before or after I hire her?”

Dorothea chuckled and patted his hand. “After is fine. I’m not concerned. I trust you. You’re too smart to be that stupid…again.”

Jon snorted. “Thanks, I think.” He sobered and looked her in the eye. “I love you Dot.”

“I know you do. I love you too.” She leaned over to kiss him.

As she sat back he studied her face. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.”

“Just tired. Chasing a three year old and a fourteen month old around all day is exhausting.”

He grinned, knowing she wouldn’t have it any other way. She’d always refused all his attempts to get her some help. “Ready to talk about a nanny yet?”

But she surprised him.

“Maybe.”




Brianna hung up the phone and leaned back against the couch cushions, a huge grin slowly spreading across her face. She slapped her hand against the cushion. “Yes!”

Things were finally starting to go her way. Evelyn, the receptionist/office manager for Bon Jovi Management just called to tell her she’d gotten the job. She was going to be Jon Bon Jovi’s personal assistant! She was going on tour with Bon Jovi! She was going to meet Richie and David and Tico and Hugh! Taking a deep breath she admonished herself for acting like a hormonal teenager. She needed to calm down. She needed to be professional.

She needed to update her wardrobe!!

Checking her watch, she grabbed her purse and headed for her favourite stores. One of the best things about living in New York City was the proximity of the creations of all her preferred designers. Her one major vice was high end, quality clothing – at least in her work attire, since she couldn’t wear jeans and t-shirts – which her ex-husband fully supported.  He liked her to look ‘classy and uptown’.  Luckily, her career had always paid enough to support her addiction. Fifth Avenue and Soho were her playgrounds and she knew them like the back of her hand.

Four hours later she returned loaded down with bags, exhausted, but pleased with her purchases. There were a few office appropriate conservative outfits and some not as conservative but by no means slutty outfits that she thought would work for the tour. Plus a short black leather jacket she saw in Kenneth Cole’s window as she was walking by and couldn’t resist. Its classic lines and zipper detail on the cuffs – not to mention the numerous pockets – were the height of the current fashion, but would also never really go out of style.

To please her inner wanton, she’d also stopped at Victoria’s Secret. What only a few people knew – and none but her closest girlfriends since her divorce almost a year ago – was that beneath her conservative suits could typically be found bits of silk, satin and/or lace of the sort that was guaranteed to raise the male blood pressure, and lower their I.Q. She loved the contrast of prim exterior concealing a naughty interior.

Dropping the bags, she poured a glass of wine and settled on the couch with the chicken Caesar salad she’d picked up from the deli on the corner. While she ate, she glanced around her small apartment. It wasn’t as grand as the condo on Park Avenue that she’d spent the three years of her marriage in, but it was nice and suited her needs. It had two bedrooms, bathroom, open concept living room/dining room/kitchen and a large balcony.  The décor consisted of warm neutrals with a few splashes of colour scattered around – her favourite being the abstract painting of musical instruments done by Tico Torres. Her husband scoffed at her obsession with the ‘hair band trying to extend their fifteen minutes of fame’, but he appreciated art and recognized quality when he saw it and had given it to her for her birthday.  The most expensive component of her living space was the entertainment system – her other personal indulgence. The fifty-two inch TV and surround sound was the next best thing to being in a theatre….or at a concert.

And she really couldn’t complain. The prenup had been very generous. She hadn’t liked the idea of signing one, but Alex had insisted. And since he’d already been divorced once, she could understand why he’d be a little gun shy and want the financial details agreed to if worse came to worst while cooler heads prevailed. But she really should have listened to the first Mrs. Prentiss when she tried to tell her about her fiancé’s addiction to personal assistants. She’d been sure it was just the bitterness of a scorned woman, even though the pattern was right there in front of her – they’d both been his assistants before getting married.

But it turned out the warning was warranted. They were hardly past their first anniversary when she suspected he was screwing around, but he convinced her she was being paranoid and assured her that there was no one else for him but her. It took another year and a half before she finally had concrete proof – of the photo and email variety - and left him. When she’d calmed enough to ask him why, his response of ‘when the challenge of the chase is over, and I’ve won, I get bored and have to look for a new one’ had her wishing she’d never signed the damn prenup so that she could take him to the cleaners and hurt him the only place he would feel it…..his bank account!

The memory made her think of Dorothea. She wondered how the black belt felt about her husband’s personal assistants. She’d heard him say he hadn’t been a saint and had always assumed – hoped- he was talking about groupies and not staff members.  It would take an incredibly strong, independent, confident woman to stay married to and raise a family with a man like Jon and his lifestyle. The kind of woman Brianna had always respected but knew she could never be – she would never be able to control her intense emotions enough to be able to deal with that. The kind of woman you don’t mess with.

Salad finished, she cleaned up her dishes and took the bags into the bedroom to put her new clothes away. Then she thought about watching TV, but decided a bubble bath suited her mood more. She turned on the stereo, hesitated, the reached for her Bon Jovi collection and pulled out This Left Feels Right. The quieter, more soothing versions of the songs relaxed her as much as the hot water and lavender scented bubbles did.

Settling into the tub, she leaned her head back against the rim, closed her eyes and made a mental list of what she needed to do and in what order in the new job to get organized and to get a handle on what Jon needed and wanted. Her stomach swirled a little – not out of nervousness, but in anticipation.  

Now if only she could get some sleep.

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Chapter 1



Brianna followed the receptionist down a long hallway, composing what she would say in her head. God! I hope I get this job! She’d needed to make a fresh start, try something different, see new things and places and when she saw the ad in the paper, she knew it would be perfect for her – something new, but also a little familiar. When a little sleuthing revealed who had placed the ad she’d had to re-think whether applying was really a good idea, but in the end, she couldn’t resist the challenge. It was exactly the chance she’d been looking for – provided she could keep it together and not gush all over him. She knew that if she got the job, familiarity would settle her nerves around him, but she had to get through the interview first.

As they neared the door at the end of the hallway they could hear his raised voice even through the thick wood. He definitely wasn’t happy about something! So the stories are true! It didn’t really bother her – she’d dealt with difficult, temperamental bosses before. And if this one turned out to be a lech, at least he was a good looking one. The receptionist gave her an apologetic look and knocked on the door.

“Come in!”

“Excuse me boss, the next applicant for the assistant position is here.”

“Thanks Evelyn, show her in.”

“Good luck,” Evelyn murmured to her as she waved her in, then backed out of the office, closing the door behind her. She wasn’t sure if Evelyn was wishing her luck with getting the job or surviving the interview.

He was still on the phone, but waved her to a seat.  She looked around the office, noting the awards on the wall, not surprised to see the humanitarian ones taking precedence over the music related ones. His desk was large and surprisingly organized considering the many different projects he was involved in. Pictures of his wife and children sat on the credenza behind him. It all looked neat and tidy, but didn’t have the feeling of being well used, and she had to wonder how much time he spent here. She took the opportunity while he was distracted to take a good look at him, hoping to get over her initial rush of excitement before she had to actually speak to him.

He was sitting in a large swivel chair, bathed in the bright early June afternoon sunshine streaming through the window behind him, raking his free hand through his hair – slightly longer now than during the tour, but still disappointingly dark. Those mesmerizing blue eyes were slightly darker than they appeared in pictures, but she didn’t know if that was some trick of the camera’s or if they were darker now because he was angry. And they were like shards of glittering ice.

“I told you, I’ve got a meeting in Philly at three. How the hell am I supposed to be in New York at four? Click my heels together three times and wish I was home? I ain’t got no fucking ruby slippers genius! Let me know when you come up with a schedule that has some basis in reality!” He slammed the phone down. Sighing, he raised his head and pinned her with a glance. “What would you do if a reporter wanted to do an interview at the same time that I had a meeting in Philadelphia?”

Ah, so that’s why he brought me in here before he was finished his conversation. I guess the interview has begun. “How urgent is the interview? I mean, is it to promote a specific event or is it just a general interview?”

“The new album’s coming out in a couple months.”

She nodded, her expression thoughtful. “And how urgent is the meeting in Philly?”

“We’re debriefing the Soul’s inaugural season.” He paused. “Do you know about the Soul?”

Brianna nodded again – she’d done her homework before arriving for the interview. “Your arena football team.”

“Good. Well, anyway, we need to discuss last season and plans for next season. Also, I’ve got an idea for a charitable foundation I want to run by the others.”

“Okay…so reschedule the interview. Maybe do it in Philly after the meeting or another day when you have time.”

“And if the reporter won’t reschedule?”

She shrugged. “Then he or she doesn’t get the interview. They work around your schedule, you don’t work around theirs. They need you more than you need them. If they don’t want to cooperate, their competition would be more than happy to, I’m sure, which would not make their editor happy.”

“Thank you! At least somebody gets it!” He picked up her resume which was lying on the desk in front of him. “So…Brianna, is it?” She nodded. “You have all the right qualifications, but I’d like you to tell me in your own words why you want this job.”

While he waited for her answer he let his gaze skim over the woman on the other side of his desk. Her hair was pulled back from her face and pinned up in some twisty style he was sure he had seen his wife wear on occasion. She shifted, bringing her head into a shaft of sunlight and he realized that what he had originally thought was brown was actually dark auburn, the buried fire providing a nice contrast to the light grey suit that hugged her toned, yet generous curves. The little voice in the back of his mind - or someplace further south – speculated on the length and texture of her shining locks…and whether she had the passionate temperament that supposedly went with the rich colour. As attractive as all that was, it was her eyes, set above a delicate nose and perfect bow mouth with full bottom lip, that intrigued him the most. Not brown, not hazel. The best description he could come up with was…amber.   He idly wondered if they’d glow, and under what circumstances. When he realized where his thoughts were drifting, he struggled to bring them back to the matter at hand. None of those kinds of thoughts. Remember you’re a happily married man…with a wife who would seriously hurt you if you tried to tap that! Go down that path and you’ll be living with Copper!

Brianna took a moment to compose her thoughts. “Well, as you can see, my experience has been mostly in large corporations. I want to try something different, with more diversity, something more in touch with people, and in an industry that interests me.”

“So you’re a music fan? Who do you like?”

“Besides Jovi, you mean?” She grinned.

The use of the truncated version of the name branded her as more than just a casual fan, which raised a few alarm bells. “Good answer. Yeah, who else?”

“My taste runs to classic rock. Aerosmith, Foreigner, Boston. And I was a teenager in the eighties, so naturally, hair bands are up there on my list.”

He snorted softly. “Naturally. What about more current artists?”

Brianna grimaced. “Nickelback, Green Day’s not bad, although the lead singer is an ass.” She shrugged. “To be perfectly honest, there’s not a lot out there right now that impresses me.  The bulk of it is becoming too techno for me. All the songs sound the same.  There’s no real melody to it.”

Jon nodded at the echo of his own thoughts on the subject. But of course he could never say it publically – that wouldn’t be good PR. “Interesting.” He paused, then turned the discussion to his other passion. “What’s your opinion on celebrities getting involved in philanthropic pursuits?”

“In this country, in this day and age, no one should be unable to provide basic requirements for survival for themselves and their families. Unfortunately, far too many fall short, due to lack of education or skills or just opportunity.  If those that have the means to help don’t, who’s going to? And it’s not only celebrities. It’s businesses and government as well. But I believe in a hand up, not a hand out. To paraphrase the saying, don’t give them fish, teach them to fish. The problem with a lot of the charities out there is that they spend so much of the money they collect on administration that it’s hard to determine how much actually gets to the people who need it.  I think the situation needs a fresh approach.” She shrugged. “I just don’t know what that might be.”

Throughout her speech, Jon listened with rapt attention. Here was someone who would understand what he wanted to try to do. “I know exactly what you mean! You might be interested in an idea I have.”

They spent the next hour discussing and debating various aspects of his idea and developed the bones of a proposal.

Jon glanced at the clock on the wall and was startled to see how long they’d been talking. It had been a long time since he’s connected with someone that quickly. “Sorry, we kind of got off topic. Do you have any questions about the job?”

“How…involved….do you want your assistant to be?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve worked for one CEO who only wanted me to set up or confirm the events, but didn’t need me to attend them, and I’ve had bosses who wanted me beside them for everything, and wanted me to buy birthday, anniversary and Christmas presents for their families. I was just wondering where you fell in that spectrum.”

“Probably somewhere in the middle. We’ll have to play it by ear a bit and learn as we go. I probably won’t need you at every event locally, but tours are a must. Will that be a problem?”

“No Sir. I just updated my passport. It’s all good.”

“Good. And please drop the ‘Sir’. I’m just Jon.”

She smiled and nodded at that. “Okay….Jon.”

“And I will never ask you to shop for my family. I do that myself.” He paused and her smile widened.

“But you might need the occasional reminder that you need to go shopping?”

He laughed. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“That won’t be a problem.” She assured him. “What about the other band members?”

“What about them?”

“Do they have their own assistants or would I be looking after them as well?”

“Richie and David have their own assistants, but they need all the help they can get, so you may get called in once in a while. Tico looks after himself.”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

Jon ended the interview, telling her that he would make a decision and she would hear from him in the next few days.