–Devlin: And since I’m here, I’ll get the house cleaned up.
We had a huge gated mansion in the city. Paid about two million for it three years ago. There was tons of space, but it was a bachelor pad with video games, an indoor basketball hoop (Max’s idea, not mine), a pinball machine, bowling alleys, a hot tub big enough for an orgy (Dev’s contribution) and a gigantic, in-progress pyramid of empty Red Bull cans. That was why Cole spent more time in his fiancée’s modest apartment than at the mansion. And I couldn’t envision Emily working in a space like that. She couldn’t even tolerate drums. I definitely needed to figure something out for her.
–Devlin: Got any requests? Any new toys you want?
–Me: Nah, I’m good. But I need to look for a new place.
–Devlin: Dude… You still mad at me?
–Me: No. Just can’t have Emily live there.
–Devlin: She’s moving here with you?
I wanted more than just to move in with her. I could see myself with her long-term. Live and be together, like Mom and Dad. Emily seemed a bit skeptical about romance in general, which was understandable given what I’d heard about her parents’ marriage. But I could make up for that. I could show her how it could be.
–Me: Yeah. I asked real nice, like a gentleman.
–Devlin: Gentleman, my ass. You’re a rock star.
–Me: A gentleman rock star. It’s a new category.
I could almost hear Dev grunt and laugh at the same time.
–Devlin: Want me to look at some places for you?
I started to type yes, then stopped. This was Dev. His idea of good was probably going to be an orgy pad. As though he’d read my mind, Devlin texted again.
–Devlin: I have excellent
taste and judgment. Just ask anybody.
–Me: Is that what your girls said, or your lawyer?
–Devlin: I’m not having a lawyer pick out a place for you and Emily.
–Me: Don’t bother. I’ll have Felicia handle it.
–Devlin: You trust your assistant more than me?
–Me: Yep. Nothing personal.
–Devlin: That’s what people always say when it’s personal. Anyway, I gotta go. I’m meeting an interior designer.
An alarm rang in my head.
–Me: Why? Are you going to redo the house?
There was a big difference between cleaning and interior decoration. The band didn’t need a brothel-themed home away from home. What if Emily wanted to see it? It’d be too embarrassing.
–Devlin: No. But I’m going to say that I am. Gives me a reason to meet her. She’s hot.
I relaxed in my seat. Should have known.
Then I felt sorry for the poor interior designer, who might be counting on the potential contract.
–Me: You shouldn’t lie and waste her time.
–Devlin: Lie? She wears a push-up bra, heels and a ton of makeup.