Page 5 of Hard Rock Deceit
I would work with the man who looked at my photographs and saw something no one else hadbefore.
I didn't like feeling so out of sorts, especially around a stranger. Especially around a stranger as intense as him. My world felt offbalance.
But something inside me said I wouldn'tregretthis.
"Yes," I said. "I'm interested. I'd likeyourhelp."
Before I could question my actions, I scrawled my signature on the bottom of the page and handeditover.
"You'll be traveling across the country to work as an event photographer for a few months," he said withoutpreamble.
"Whatevent?"
He tapped his finger against the folder in a staccato rhythm. The look on his face was one of anticipation, eyes glinting. "Have you ever heard ofDarkestDays?"
Everythingclicked.
Platinum blond hair. Ice-blue eyes. Tall and straight-backed, with an almost regalexpression.
Without all the leather, black mesh, torn ripped jeans and eyeliner, it wasn't immediately obvious. But I could seeitnow.
My heart went intooverdrive.
This man was August Summers. Drummer, composer, producer, and reputed musical genius. The founding member of hit rock groupDarkestDays.
This was a man who filled stadiums full of screaming fans, who turned every album he touchedintogold.
I took a shallow breath, trying to suppress the rapid rise and fall of my chest. I couldn't make myself speak, afraid my voice would give away my mentalstate.
August examined me closely, his eyes narrowed, searching. I don't know what he saw, but he seemedsatisfied.
"Darkest Days has a new album out," he continued. "We're going on tour to promote it. Your job will be to follow the band around for a few months takingphotos."
My black rimmed glasses slid downmynose.
Going on tour. With a rock band. That wasn't something normal people did. Only people with connections, or people already established in the entertainment industry, got those jobs. It was unfathomable someone like me would get an offerlikethis.
"If you agree, you'll need to pack a suitcase tonight," he said. "We're leavingtomorrow."
Pack a suitcase. Leaving tomorrow. Not to mention, I’d just signedanNDA.
August watched me silently. I pushed my hair back, tucking it behind my ears. My mom always told me to get my hair out ofmyface.
This man saw passion in my art. He wanted toteachme.
"Okay. Yes." The words hung heavy in the air. "I'lldoit."
The world went fuzzy for amoment.
What had Ijustdone?
He nodded once, pleased. "A car will pick you up at your place tomorrowmorning."
He opened the limo door, gesturing for me to step out first, then followed. I tried not to trip over myself. Ashford watched us through the gallerywindows.
August stuck his hand out, offering me a handshake. "I'm sure it will be a pleasure to work with you, Cassie. You're a very talentedwoman."
I gingerly placed my handinhis.
