Page 3 of Grave Misgivings
“No, Kevin. A bag of Takis isn’t going to make me feel spicy.”
“I don’t get it, man, you act like you’renotfucking two time grammy winnerGravedigger, man. Seriously, you act like you’re some nerd trapped in a rockstar’s body or something.”
I shoot him a scathing look. “The fact you don’t understand that Iamboth astounds me.”
“God, you are fucking pissy today,” he says.
“Yeah, having people yell at you and telling you to act like a damn stripper will do that to a person.”
“It’s just a picture, Geo, Christ. It’s not like I’m asking you to open an Only Fans or something.”
I sigh, knowing this argument isn’t going to get either of us anywhere. Kevin will never understand.
My text goes off, and it’s Jinger.
How was the shoot today, cutie?
I sigh, figuring the starlet at the center of Casualty Records is as good a distraction as any.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Kevin.” I wave him off as I stroll through the door.
“Bright and early!” he calls out after me.
I slowly amble my way through the hallway to my Camaro. Most of the guys on the label have fancy as shit cars, me included. Goes along with the “image” Casualty wants me to uphold. Though I prefer taking the Lexus, I try to at least take out the flashy one every now and then to try and help myself remember what I’ve accomplished.
You know, the usual.I text her back.
I lean against my car, watching the bubbles pop up as I wait for her reply.
Jinger is one of those personalities that you either love, or you hate.
The fact she’s probably slept with most of the guys on the label at one point or another—save for Felix, Mateo, and the new kids onthe label,Heart Killer—usually sets people off. But to be honest, that’s why I like Jinger.
Because she doesn’t give a shit what people think or say about her. She just does what she wants, and I think that’s admirable.
I bet you killed it as always!Her enthusiasm is kind of endearing even if it’s drenched in flirtation.
But I don’t take her flirting to heart. Jinger flirts with everyone. She’s like the human equivalent of a margarita meets Bubbles from the PowerPuff Girls.
Yeah, well, hopefully this satisfies the label, because I’m over this whole “Sexy Geo” thing the label keeps shoving down my throat.
Jinger texts back almost instantly.I think you’re plenty sexy, Geo.
I run a hand through my hair as her words settle on me. It’s not like it’s the first time Jinger’s said as much. She tells me all the time, like if she says it enough I’ll believe her.
Thanks, but I think we both know who’s the sexy starlet here, J.
It’s true. While I may at least have my big cross tattoo and a sculpted body, my face isn’t quite on par with the rest of me. I can barely grow a fucking beard at thirty-nine, which is embarrassing as fuck.
But Jinger is the total package, a full on knockout who’s probably plastered all over teenage bedrooms across the nation. But I’ve never felt attracted to Jinger inthatway. Still, you’d have to be blind not to know she’s hot as hell.
I run a hand over my face, feeling like an absolute grump.
I’m sorry, I’m just in a funk today, J.
Jinger sends me back a ‘k’ text, and that’s that.
I stare at the black shimmer of my Camaro, my reflection glinting in the sun.
