Read Online Hillbilly Rockstar by Christina Routon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Christina Routon
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documented as best as she could before she left. Boyd had seemed disappointed that she was leaving, but she knew she was making the right decision. Now she just needed to prove it to someone, as well as herself.
She smelled something. Sweet and sour chicken? One of the staff must have ordered Chinese take-out for lunch. The smell wafted closer and suddenly Trace filled the doorway, bearing plastic bags that smelled heavenly. But he couldn't be here, not now.
"Trace," she jumped from her desk, turning her nameplate that read Secretary face down on the shiny surface. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought I'd bring you lunch and tell you about the interviews. Did you see any of them? They went well." He set the bags on Charlie's empty desk. "I like the office. It's different from the last time I was here. There's new carpet, and curtains I think." He turned towards Lisa. "It's good you got Charlie's old office."
"I enjoy being here, even though I miss him." She stepped from behind her desk, picked up the bags and gave them back to Trace. "Trace, you need to go. I have a client coming in ten minutes. I don't have time to eat right now." The lie rolled from her tongue more easily than she was comfortable with, she realized. She started to head out of the office into the hallway, trusting he would follow. "I can meet you tomorrow or Friday on the way to rehearsal."
"Lisa, you need to eat lunch. Why won't you eat with me?" Trace stood his ground, still standing at Charlie's desk.
Lisa walked back towards him. "Trace, I don't have time." She took a deep breath. "I have another client coming, and I'm trying to get these old files cleaned out. Mr. Waters is out of town so I'm handling his phone calls and sending them to our other managers. I am swamped, and I just don't have time to sit and eat anything right now. Could you please go, and I'll see you tomorrow?"
Trace looked into her eyes, seeming to look for something. Lisa met his gaze.
"Okay, I understand. What about supper? You need to eat."
"I'll get something on the way home." She shooed him down the hall, back to reception. "I'll call you later this afternoon when I get off work. You can tell me everything that happened today. Did you make a new friend? Did you color a picture? Did you cut with scissors?"
"Funny, Lisa, funny. I can walk by myself, you know." Trace reached the lobby and turned away from the glass doors.
"I couldn't help it. I'll talk to you later, okay?" She pushed him towards the exit door, even holding it for him so he could walk through.
"Okay, talk to you later." He started to leave, then stopped and pulled out one of the plastic to-go boxes. "Here, go ahead and take the lunch. Boss or no boss, you still need to eat something."
"Thanks, Trace." Lisa took the box, enjoying his thoughtfulness but knowing she had to keep him away from the place. It looked like she'd dodged a big one this time. "Promise you won't come back to the office unless we have a scheduled meeting?"
"Sure, I won't come back," he said. Lisa thought he was going to say something else, but instead he turned and headed out of reception and toward the parking garage. Lisa watched him leave and breathed a deep sigh of relief.
###
Friday's dress rehearsal was long and hot and tiring, but Trace loved it. He loved the energy, the focus, the camaraderie between the performers and the crew. It was similar to the energy he'd felt when performing. Being around the young performers with all their hopes and dreams yet to come true made him feel twenty again.
When they finally had a break for dinner, Trace headed to the craft services table to grab a sandwich and find a seat. He was bone tired and ready to drop.
"Feels great, doesn't it?" He turned and saw Michelle behind him.
He nodded, swallowing his bite of turkey club. "TV is different than a live performance, but the energy is still here. The audience out there, the busyness backstage."
"It's pretty normal for me, I guess."
She smelled something. Sweet and sour chicken? One of the staff must have ordered Chinese take-out for lunch. The smell wafted closer and suddenly Trace filled the doorway, bearing plastic bags that smelled heavenly. But he couldn't be here, not now.
"Trace," she jumped from her desk, turning her nameplate that read Secretary face down on the shiny surface. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought I'd bring you lunch and tell you about the interviews. Did you see any of them? They went well." He set the bags on Charlie's empty desk. "I like the office. It's different from the last time I was here. There's new carpet, and curtains I think." He turned towards Lisa. "It's good you got Charlie's old office."
"I enjoy being here, even though I miss him." She stepped from behind her desk, picked up the bags and gave them back to Trace. "Trace, you need to go. I have a client coming in ten minutes. I don't have time to eat right now." The lie rolled from her tongue more easily than she was comfortable with, she realized. She started to head out of the office into the hallway, trusting he would follow. "I can meet you tomorrow or Friday on the way to rehearsal."
"Lisa, you need to eat lunch. Why won't you eat with me?" Trace stood his ground, still standing at Charlie's desk.
Lisa walked back towards him. "Trace, I don't have time." She took a deep breath. "I have another client coming, and I'm trying to get these old files cleaned out. Mr. Waters is out of town so I'm handling his phone calls and sending them to our other managers. I am swamped, and I just don't have time to sit and eat anything right now. Could you please go, and I'll see you tomorrow?"
Trace looked into her eyes, seeming to look for something. Lisa met his gaze.
"Okay, I understand. What about supper? You need to eat."
"I'll get something on the way home." She shooed him down the hall, back to reception. "I'll call you later this afternoon when I get off work. You can tell me everything that happened today. Did you make a new friend? Did you color a picture? Did you cut with scissors?"
"Funny, Lisa, funny. I can walk by myself, you know." Trace reached the lobby and turned away from the glass doors.
"I couldn't help it. I'll talk to you later, okay?" She pushed him towards the exit door, even holding it for him so he could walk through.
"Okay, talk to you later." He started to leave, then stopped and pulled out one of the plastic to-go boxes. "Here, go ahead and take the lunch. Boss or no boss, you still need to eat something."
"Thanks, Trace." Lisa took the box, enjoying his thoughtfulness but knowing she had to keep him away from the place. It looked like she'd dodged a big one this time. "Promise you won't come back to the office unless we have a scheduled meeting?"
"Sure, I won't come back," he said. Lisa thought he was going to say something else, but instead he turned and headed out of reception and toward the parking garage. Lisa watched him leave and breathed a deep sigh of relief.
###
Friday's dress rehearsal was long and hot and tiring, but Trace loved it. He loved the energy, the focus, the camaraderie between the performers and the crew. It was similar to the energy he'd felt when performing. Being around the young performers with all their hopes and dreams yet to come true made him feel twenty again.
When they finally had a break for dinner, Trace headed to the craft services table to grab a sandwich and find a seat. He was bone tired and ready to drop.
"Feels great, doesn't it?" He turned and saw Michelle behind him.
He nodded, swallowing his bite of turkey club. "TV is different than a live performance, but the energy is still here. The audience out there, the busyness backstage."
"It's pretty normal for me, I guess."
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