The Scottish Fetish

CHAPTER 13

She found him leaning against the doorway of the bus, checking his phone. For once, he was wearing clothes (An unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt over a David Bowie print tee and ripped jeans) in her presence. Wow! He's got quite a fashion sense! she thought to herself with an amused grin, watching as the frowny faced rock star's eyes scanned the phone screen. "What're ya doin ere? " he asked, finally noticing her. "Nice to see ya too. I'm yer new manager." a chirpy Ina replied, with a big smile to turn his frown upside down. "How'd ya know I need a new manager?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "Well, Mick sorta told me last night that he was done for good! " she replied, truthfully. "Well, that's bloody brilliant! He goes ahead an' tells a complete stranger about his decision before me!  That bastard didn't even bother to check with me about it. He just up an' left. Sent me a text this mornin. Says he's gonna be managin some boy band that's just won X-Factor or somethin! " he muttered, hiding his sorrow over losing Mick under a mask of anger. "Ya don't have to worry. I may not have much experience managin, but I'm quick on my feet. Ya can rely on me! " she assured, pitying him and hoping he'd let her be his new manager. Finally, after a lotta thought (and after she flashed him her realistic looking badge), he agreed. "Ya do have a license though, right? Yer s'possed to drive me around too." he revealed. "I just got it last week. Though, I never knew one o' the job requirements o' a manager included drivin the tour bus." she exclaimed. "Well, it isn't a job requirement. Mick drove since I don't have a bus driver! " he revealed, before inviting her into the bus. "Why dontcha have a bus driver? " she asked, curiously. "He quit...too." he replied, before calmly pouring himself a drink. "May I ask why? " she continued to enquire. "I ticked im off." he replied, before embarking on a quest for ice cubes. "What'd ya do? " she asked. "Slept with one o' the groupies." he recounted boastfully, while raiding the mini fridge . "So? " a confused Ina asked. "She turned out to be his wife!  How was I s'possed to know, eh?!" he defended his actions shamelessly, as he tossed a couple of ice cubes into his scotch. "Ya continue to astound me! Ya know, Mick told me ya were head o'er heels in love with Mrs. Fletcher. But, how am I s'possed to believe that, when yer shaggin all these groupies in er absence? " she condemned his actions. "Lemme tell ya a secret, lass. I fool around with the groupies, mostly upper body stuff, ya know? The lower body stuff, the whole package...that's reserved for Sylvie, the love o' my life, an' probably the only woman I'll make love to." he defended his actions, while coming up with a sound way to explain the difference between how he treated his groupies and Mrs. Fletcher. There was awkward silence for a while, as Ina tried to digest his explanation. "I dunno how ya did it, but ya managed to charm and disgust me at the same time! "  a disgusted Ina finally spoke up, while he flashed her a devilish grin.