“Nah, I’m cool.”
“Suit yourself.” Becca sighs. “God, how long does it take to get a vodka tonic around here? These bartenders haven’t even glanced my way once.”
“If you flash them, it might speed up the process. Seemed to work for her.” I jerk my head to the left, where a blonde with huge fake tits is sipping her raspberry rum punch with a candied sugar rim.
Becca doesn’t miss a beat. “I’ve tried that before. Rarely shaves more than a minute off the drink delivery time. Welcome to LA, where everyone either is a plastic surgeon or has one on standby. Boobs have no novelty factor.”
I crack a smile for the first time all day. “Guess you’ll just have to wait.”
“That’s all right. The company isn’tterrible, I guess.” She grins at me. “So, are you with the label?”
“Considering a deal.”
“Ah, so they flew you out here to woo you with pool parties and ex-porn stars in bikinis.” She shoots a meaningful glance at the big-breasted blonde. “Oh, jeez! Wait! RyderWoods, right?”
I blink. “You’ve heard of me?”
“Your reputation proceeds you.”
“Wasn’t aware I had a reputation out here already.”
“Maybe not with the general public, but within Red Machine the name Ryder Woods has not gone unspoken. I’m Clay’s second assistant. AKA Chris’s assistant. AKA assistant to the assistant, as it were.” She smacks herself in the forehead. “Sorry, I should’ve put it together when you first introduced yourself.”
“No worries.”
“They put you up in the hotel for the night, right? Chris had me make the reservations a few days ago.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty nice. Great views of the city.”
“And convenient — when you have to locate your bed in a drunken stupor tonight, it’s right downstairs.”
“That all depends on whether I’m able to get another whiskey.” I spin the empty glass between my palms. “Two bartenders, serving about two hundred people? I’ll be stone cold sober by the time this thing wraps up.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it!” Becca clinks her empty glass against mine, reaches into her purse, and pulls out a small bag of white pills. Grabbing my hand, she drops dozen or so into my palm. “For later. In case the whiskey runs dry.”
“What are these?”
“Oh, just a little pick me up.” She shrugs. “Nothing too intense.”
“Honestly, I appreciate the gesture, but I’m more of a whiskey man. They’d just go to waste on me.” I try to hand them back to her, but her hand curls around mine, closing the pills inside my grip.
“I insist! Consider them my welcome to LA gift.” She waggles her eyebrows playfully. “You can thank me later.”
Rather than fight with her about it, I shove them into my pocket to toss once she’s out of sight.
“Uh, thanks,” I mutter for lack of any alternative, wondering what the hell kind of Alice in Wonderland hole I’ve tumbled into where people hand out drugs like party favors within five minutes of meeting you.
“So…” Becca’s eyes dart to Lacey, who’s still splashing around with her new friend in the pool. “That’s your singing partner, right?”
“Sometimes.”
“She your girlfriend?”
“Definitely not.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
When I simply stare at her in silence, she throws her head back and laughs. “Oh, come on. Can’t blame a girl for trying.”