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I'm not kidding.” said Ian sarcastically,
reading Sam's mind. “This is an outrage to architects everywhere. Here you have
a classic style building to be defrauded as something as ostentatious as this
fountain. Jett and I discussed this and Jett promises the one in Maui will be
nothing like this.”
    “I can see your point,” said Sam in agreement. “But I guess
it's part of his ‘persona’ for Hollywood.”
    “Come on in,” said Toby jovially. “Jett changed his mind. He
wants to meet with Ms. Stevens first, Ian. He’ll call you in when he’s done.”
    “Great,” said Ian, irritated already by the situation. “I’ll
take some water.” Ian followed Toby and Sam inside.
    “Oh good Lord,” said Sam under her breath, She stared at the
foyer with its huge black and white tiled floor that looked like the board of a
chess game. A massive chandelier with pink crystals with lights hung from the
ceiling. Artwork depicting various sexual positions lined the hallways and along
with French Provincial furniture. Toby led Sam back into a recording studio
where chaos reigned with various guitars perched on their stands. Soundboards,
speakers, microphones and drum sets were placed strategically. Sam had been to
a lot of recording studios with Jordan so she could appreciate the excellent
pieces of equipment.
    “Samantha?” A melodious voice came from behind one of the
massive speakers. Out stepped Jett looking nothing like what the gossip
magazines portrayed him as. He wore jeans with holes in the knees, flip flops
and a large oversized denim shirt. His signature black unruly hair was held back
conservatively by a bandana. His vivid blue eyes the color of aquamarine stared
intently at her.
    “That’s me,” said Sam graciously, trying to hide her
surprise. “You can call me Sam.”
    “You’re a dead ringer for Jordan.” Jett’s eyes never left
her face and he smiled at her warmly
    “Well, he is my twin,” explained Sam. “Fraternal. He’s ten
minutes older than me, and he’s way taller, as you know.”
    “I hope all of this equipment doesn’t intimidate you,”
explained Jett as he stepped over the wires to shake Sam’s hand.
    “I grew up with Jordan. I’m used to all of this. I can’t
tell you how many concerts I’ve helped him with by setting up equipment.”
    “Here, let’s go into my office,” said Jett as he led the way
to a private room off of the studio. Sam followed him inside to an office sized
room with a desk, a laptop and lots of filing cabinets. Papers were strewn
about and it looked totally chaotic. “Now, you see where I need help?” said
Jett not at all pleased. “I’m a musician and these details escape me. Gina?”
Jett threw his hands in the air. “What can I say, but she had no organizational
skills.” He stopped abruptly and Sam almost ran into him. “Let me rephrase
that. Gina said she was organized, but she had bigger things in mind, if
you know what I mean.” Jett looked at Sam pointedly.
    “Well then, I’m the right person for you,” said Sam
emphatically. “I don’t have lofty ambitions, but I can whip anything into
shape.”
    “That’s what Jordan said,” said Jett with a smile. “And I do
appreciate the way you’re dressed professionally and your good manners.”
    “You’re welcome,” said Sam somewhat flattered. “Let’s get
down to business.” Sam took a seat and pulled an iPad out of her briefcase. “Now,
how do you have things organized?”
    “I don’t,” said Jett with a helpless shrug. “I feel like I’m
throwing you into the lion’s den. All of this has to be filed and recorded.
It’s all of my fan mail. We told Gina to log down everyone who has contacted
me, like a base or something. I don’t think she did.” Jett pointed to the
laptop. “Who knows what’s on that.”
    “You know what, Jett?” asked Sam as she surveyed the damage.
“I don’t have anything planned for today, so why don’t I poke around here and
try to assess