Page 28 of Play of Love
Chapter 8
Amy
* * *
That first day of trying to get Josh to wake up was terrible.
I had hung in there, with my fingers and toes crossed that each day had to get better. But it didn’t. Each day actually got worse, and one week later we were still at the same spot, in the same position, with no progress whatsoever.
I’d had a week of hell where I tried everything I could think of to wake Josh up, but he wouldn’t budge.
After that first Friday I decided that if I wanted Josh to wake up at eight I’d have to be here at seven. I thought I was being generous in giving some of my personal time, but it was all for nothing. He ended up cursing me out of the room and didn’t wake up until eleven thirty. The same thing happened every day after, and he’d be in the worst mood with me for the rest of the day.
And here I was again, with a fresh week, the week that counted, no further than I was when I began. On Friday we would need to be at the studio at ten. That meant leaving here at around nine.
As I watched him lying flat on his face, passed out with a bottle of rum next to him, I wondered what the hell I was going to do. It was seven thirty. I’d been trying to wake him up now for the past half an hour, to no avail. I was tired myself. In fact I was exhausted and could have used my normal boost of energy that propelled me in the mornings. However, this whole exercise had taken its toll on me and I was getting more uncomfortable in my apartment to the point where I found it difficult to sleep. I kept feeling like someone was standing outside my door. The impression filled me the other day and it terrified me.
When I looked at Josh with this massive house, with all its bedrooms and rooms, I was aggrieved because he didn’t know how lucky he was. Right now, my budget was so low that my main meal was lunch and then anything I might be able to grab my hands on while I was here.
“Josh, get up.” I was getting fed up now and he was seriously beginning to work my last nerve. “Josh.”
I rested my hand on his shoulder just above the soft cotton of his jersey and tapped him. He stirred a little but that was all I got.
A flurry of hope filled me when I shook his arm a little harder and his eyes fluttered open. He rolled onto his back and ran a hand through his ruffled hair.
Most people looked like hell when they just woke up, but Joshua Mancini managed to carry the look off and still look sexy. There was no wonder why GQ wanted him to do photo shoots, and it was for their cover. Same with Men’s Health and a few of the others.
“Woman, what the hell do you want?”
“You, you dumb oaf.”
“Oh, well why don’t you just take your clothes off and climb in here with me.” The corners of his sensual mouth slid up into a sexy grin that made me blush, and I scowled at him.
“That is not what I meant.” If I didn’t know him I would have thought he was joking and laughed that comment off, but since I did, I knew he was totally serious. I didn’t know how anyone could be like that. So openly and explicitly sexual. “Get up.”
“Baby, please think about it, you could have so much fun, and you wouldn’t be so uptight all the time like you’ve got a stick up your gorgeous ass.”
This was not working, and everything he said was worse than the first thing he’d come out with. I couldn’t even tell if that was the drink talking or him. I hadn’t been with him long enough to make the distinction. I just knew that he became even more sexual at the point when he’d had too much to drink. The normal him was just grumpy and spiteful.
“Josh, can we please stop talking about me. Get the hell up.”
“I haven’t had sex in days. Come here.”
I grabbed a pillow and hit him with it several times hoping it would take his mind out of the gutter, but to my horror he fell asleep again.
It was the same thing the next day. Tuesday. Zelda told me that a PR rep was coming here on Thursday to go over some of the questions Josh could be asked. She’d also sent some practice questions so I could run through them, too, with him.
It was a great idea, but once again I found Josh flat on his face with a bottle of rum, and when I did eventually wake him up he looked at me, licked his lips and said, “Baby, your tits look really good in that top.” Then he went back to sleep.
I had to put the image of my mother in my mind at that point, and by the same token I felt deeply sad because it was looking like I wasn’t going to be able to wake him. And if I couldn’t wake him, then I wasn’t going to be able to get him to the show. If that didn’t happen, I wouldn’t get the upfront bonus to put down the deposit for my mother’s treatment and surgery.
My job here would be over because Josh would more than likely get cut from the team. I had to do something, fast too before I lost my sanity.
He stayed in bed all morning so I used the time to respond to emails. Despite his protests, I booked the appearances at the schools, charity events, and the photo shoots. Just before lunch Hilda came into the office and handed me a glass of orange juice.
“You’re too kind.” I smiled.
“And you work too hard. You’re one of those people aren’t you? That never stop.”
