by Tina Saxon
“I want you to be comfortable around me. We’ll be spending a lot of time together.”
I stare at his hand for a beat, a tingle wrapping around my spine paralyzes me momentarily. Is he coming on to me? But just as quick as he placed it on my knee, he removes it and stands back up. I adjust so both my feet are on the floor and run my hands down my jeans.
No. I’m just nervous and he’s trying to help calm me down. Get a grip.
“How about we get started?” Yes, please. He takes his place back in the chair opposite me and picks up the guitar leaning against his chair. “Do you play?”
I nod, blowing out a nervous breath. “I’m better at the piano.”
“Good to know.”
The next couple of hours, we dig into the song. All my anxiety washes away as Shane leads me through the piece. He’s good. And I love this song. A girl growing up without a father, searching for the one man that can protect her. Her journey moves through man after man until she finally meets him.
I lie to myself that I don’t love it because I can relate to it, but the truth echoes in my emotions as I sing. My father loved me, but the feeling of abandonment from my mom led me to search for it from men and women. I feel this song deep in my bones.
“Wow,” Shane whispers after my voice trails off, singing the last note. “That was… brilliant.”
My cheeks redden. “Thanks.”
It’s midnight, and it feels like I just woke up. My body is buzzing with an adrenaline high. I tug my shirt a couple times so air can blow over my overheated body. “That was insane.”
Shane jumps up and sits next to me again, his smile reaching his eyes. “It was. That’s a hit.” He drapes his arm against the back of the couch and his fingers brush against my temple, moving the couple tendrils of hair sticking to my sweaty face away. It takes effort not to jerk away.
“You’re so beautiful.” His eyes bore into me.
My smile fades.
Things just got awkward.
To defuse the situation, I hop up, focusing my eyes on anything other than him. “I can’t believe we created that.” I boast, ignoring his advance, walking back and forth in front of his coffee table. “I mean, that song is amazing, Shane.” He stays seated, his arm still stretched out and his leg resting on his knee, sitting there like he’s relaxing from a long day at work rather than a man that was just shut down.
Maybe he said that was beautiful. Meaning the song, not me. I tend to be great at reading men, especially ones that want to get in my pants. But I’m confused. One second he’s eye-fucking me, the next he’s just someone I’m collaborating with. It has me doubting myself, wondering if I’m just imagining what’s happening.
He grabs my attention when he rises and takes two long strides to where I’m standing. I step back. Not far enough away that he can’t reach out and tug on some of my hair. “I could take you to the top. My word goes a long way with Jude.”
My eyes widen. Nope, not imagining this.
Another step back and my hair slips out of his fingers. A flush of heat spikes through me. “Um…” I’m speechless. We were working so well together. Why is he doing this?
He flashes a wicked smile. “You know the old adage, do something for me, I’ll do something for you.”
Words stick in my throat and I have to swallow the knot to speak. “So, you want me to…” I can’t finish the sentence. I want to believe I misread him.
He chuckles and runs his finger under the strap of my pink tank. “You’re smart, I think you can figure it out.” When his finger moves to right above my breast, my heartbeat is pounding in my ear and I take another step back out of his reach again. This is the first time he doesn’t follow my lead. I take in a couple ragged breaths. My mind too stunned to form a coherent response.
Instead, I hold up my finger and whisper, “Can I use your restroom?”
He nods, pointing down the hallway. “I’ll be waiting.”
After grabbing my purse, I risk a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure he isn’t following me, rather he’s downing his glass of wine, paying no attention to me. He’s not concerned at all that I won’t come back.
I won’t, right? The voice in my head screams as I walk to the bathroom.
The bathroom door snaps shut and I lock it. Staring at myself in the mirror, the voice inside my head starts screaming again. Don’t do it. I wrap my fingers around the porcelain sink and I drop my head. If I leave, I’m taking the once in a lifetime chance with Jude and throwing it away. I really want this, the taste of success is at the tip of my tongue.
It’s just sex.
Shane’s a good-looking guy and I’ve had a one-night stand before. Just keep my eyes on the prize. Stardom.
I can do this.
Digging through my purse, I grab my lipstick and drag it across my lips, the red tint bringing my face alive.
It’s just sex.
I keep repeating those words to drown out my subconscious telling me I’m making a huge mistake. The soft sound of music floats past the bathroom door as I reach for the knob.
My breath snags on something deep in my chest. Anger and realization. The thought clicks in my head. I’m not the first person he’s done this to. He’s not hoping I’ll stay. The arrogance in his actions speaks louder than his words. He knows I’ll stay. How many more women has he blackmailed into sleeping with him? How many have stared at themselves in this same bathroom mirror telling themselves that it’ll be okay? Or worse, stared at themselves after they sold their soul to the devil.
Anger fuels my body and I swing open the door, marching past his shocked expression, straight to the front door.
“You’ll regret this.” A shadow of annoyance crosses his face as he places his wine glass down on the coffee table.
I snort with derision, holding a finger up. Nodding my head, I pin my stare on the douche bag. “You know what? You’re right.”
The arrogant bastard smiles as I cross the living room floor to where he stands. For a man who thinks he can control women, he doesn’t read them very well. As soon as I approach him, I let every ounce of anger out, swinging my knee up to his dick, connecting hard. I hope I broke it.
His groans and curse words fill the air as he drops to the floor, drowning out the music. Proudly, I turn back toward the door. Looking over my shoulder once more, I say, “Now, I have zero regrets. You fucked with the wrong girl. Or should I say, didn’t fuck?”
Not until I’m parked in front of my apartment, does the significance of what I did weigh on my chest. Silent tears flow down my cheeks, the darkness outside blurs. I did the right thing, yet I feel like I did something wrong. Somehow this is my fault.
I pick up my phone, sniffing as I search for a name. Addison answers, her sleep-filled voice fills the air through the Bluetooth in my car. It’s past three a.m. there, but I know she won’t care. She’s the one person who will make me understand what I did was worth the turmoil. The guilt filling my head makes me wonder if I’m a horrible person.
“Syd, what’s wrong?”
I sniff and try to chuckle. Instead, it comes out a strangled noise. “What, don’t I always call you at this time?”
“Shh, it’s Sydney,” she whispers.
“Is she okay?” A deep voice vibrates through the phone. The sheets ruffle in the background.
“I’m fine,” I answer loudly, knowing Aiden’s listening.
He grumbles and I hear Addison moving around. She whispers for me to hold on while she goes into the living room. “Okay. Talk,” she says firmly, once settled.
I run my hands through my hair, gripping the ends, letting out a slow sigh. “I need you to promise me you won’t tell Aiden.” That’s all I need is to make this bigger than it already is. And if Aiden knows… Max knows.
“I won’t say anything…” She pauses, changing her mind. “… unless you’re in trouble. Then I can’t promise shit.”
My lips twitch. “I’m not in trouble. But I just destroyed
my career before it even started.”
Chapter Eleven
Sydney
Hulk: Hey west coast, how’s it going?
I stare at the text and sigh. Seriously? Can’t anyone keep their mouth shut these days? Maybe the text is just a strange coincidence and my best friend didn’t go behind my back. Dropping my hand to the couch, gripping my phone, I shake my head. There’re no coincidences with Max Shaw.
Curiosity has me searching his name, my finger hovering over the call button. I’m calling to help save a life, I tell myself. Shane’s. I press send and place the phone to my ear. My pulse races as I wait for him to answer. Sending a text is one thing, but talking to me, he might not want to after how I left.
“Well hell, this is a surprise,” he quips, his deep voice instantly making my heartbeat race.
“You texted me,” I retort. “It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise. So, who told you?”
“Told me what?”
I roll my eyes. Why does he always have to be difficult?
“Shane? The reason you’re texting me.”
“Who’s Shane?” he asks, his voice is flat making it hard to decipher by his tone if he’s being serious. “I was just wondering how you were doing.” Mmm-hmm, sure.
I rub my temple, debating if I should make an excuse that I have to go or continue talking. “He’s just a guy they had me working with. Nobody important.” I pause, waiting for a hint of disapproval, but he stays silent. “I’m doing good. How ‘bout you?”
“Been busy with work, but same old shit. Have you recorded any songs?”
I narrow my eyes. This is his way of getting me to talk about Shane. Nice try, but if he wants me to talk about what happened, he needs to admit he knows. And who told him?
“I’ve been working with a couple songwriters.” If only that was true. Nope, just one bastard that’ll destroy me in this business. “But, I’ve yet to record a song.” Probably never will.
“You sound disappointed.”
“I just wonder if I belong in this world. I’m like a balloon floating in the vast open sky, just waiting to be popped. Self doubt is a killer,” I admit, my fears getting the best of me. Singing on stage at a local bar is uncomplicated and effortless, but becoming a star might take the rest of my fractured soul.
“Sydney,” he says sternly. “If anyone should be in the spotlight, it’s you. I know how much fight you have in you, use it to control what you want and don’t let anyone stop you from what you deserve.”
His pep talk brings a smile to my face. I want to ask why he’s always my cheerleader when I’ve been nothing but ungrateful by walking out on him. Instead, I say, “Thanks, Max.”
My phone dings in my ear, so I pull it back real quick and see a text from Graham.
G-love: Meet me at Starbucks in an hour.
I dread hearing what he has to say. He was Team Sky and ready to set up the firing squad. With him, it’s all bark. Max, I’m afraid of his bite. Graham had a meeting with Jude this morning. One thing is for certain, I’m not working with the douchebag, Shane, anymore.
“Well, work is calling,” I reluctantly say, enjoying hearing his voice. “Thanks for checking on me.”
“No problem. And hey, Tink…” He pauses for a beat and I hold my breath, waiting for him to continue. “I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself.”
He knew.
“Thanks,” I whisper. “Did Addison tell you?”
I glance at the phone when I hear nothing, confirming he hung up. Holding it to my chest, I release a puff of air. His words boost my confidence that I did the right thing, but didn’t answer my question of who the rat is.
“Why are you staring at me like I’m a Rubix Cube?” Graham says, setting his black, nothing added, coffee on the table. “I can already tell you, you’ll never match all the colors of this cube.” He waves a hand in front of his body and laughs.
I bite my lip to stop from laughing. It’ll only encourage him to keep going if he knows he’s entertaining. “I am trying to figure something out.” He lifts his brow. “Do you like Max more than you do me?”
There’s a slight tic at the corner of his mouth. “Well, that depends.”
A small gasp slips from my lips. “On what? You’re supposed to always be on my side. It was you, wasn’t it?”
He holds his hands in the air. “Hold up there, love. Don’t get your panties in a ruffle. I’m on your side, always. But if I’m going to pick a lover, let’s say, it won’t be you. But that’s not what you were referring to, was it?”
I shake my head. “No. Someone told Max about Shane.”
Graham sits up tall, eyes wide open, with his hand on his chest. “You think I did?” He opens his mouth and then snaps it shut, acting like I insulted him. “You need to be asking your other BFF.”
“I don’t think it was her. She’s still upset that Max withheld where I was for a year. She has the one-up knowing something Max doesn’t. So, if it wasn’t you or Addie, who?”
Graham’s lips twist as he thinks, his gaze set on the ceiling. “The only people aware of the Shane situation is Jude, me and your security team. We needed to make sure they were aware to never let him near you again.”
I slap my forehead with my palm. That man is relentless. “I bet one of the guys is moonlighting for Max.”
Graham slams his hand on the table, making me jump. “What? They signed a non-disclosure agreement when working for me. This is unacceptable.” He doesn’t know the extremes Max will go to get his way, which includes killing people.
A few people glance our direction. “Shh.” I put my finger to my lips. “Don’t worry about it too much. You can’t stop Max. If he wants to watch over me, he’ll find a way.”
He’s done it for the last year. He won’t stop now.
Graham plops back down in his seat. “The power that man has, slightly concerns me. At least he’s on our side.”
I smile at his resignation, not sure why I’m okay with this. It should make me furious that Max needs to have control in my world. What will happen when I start dating? Am I going to get a text asking how my date went? A small part of me likes how protective Max is. It means he thinks of me often. And that right there is why it’s best we stay thousands of miles apart.
“Then let’s move on to something I can control. Like your music career.”
Jude was very receptive after Graham met with him. They’re pairing me with a woman songwriter. After the disappointment that their train of thought was to assign me to a female, Graham assured me Tristan Weiss was a good fit for me and my music.
“She was at the meeting and is crazy excited to work with you.”
“What’ll happen to Shane?”
Graham dusts off some lint on his brown blazer with his long fingers. “Let’s just say the only songs he’ll be selling won’t be worth the pennies he’s selling them for.”
I close my eyes as a flush of guilt smacks me in the face. Max’s words come back to me and I focus on them. I stood up for myself. Shane doesn’t deserve my sympathy. He made a choice and I shouldn’t take responsibility for the consequences that came from that choice.
“Sky,” Graham clips.
I hold up a finger and blow out the guilt. “I know. This is not my fault. It still doesn’t negate the feelings I’m having.”
“You weren’t the first. But because of you, hopefully you’ll be the last. That should make you feel better.”
I manage a small smile. It does.
“Beverly Hills is calling our name. Let’s go drown out all these feelings with a day of retail therapy.” He beams, picking up our cups and throwing them away. I take one more deep inhale of the coffee aroma, debating if I should get another drink before leaving. There’s nothing therapeutic about Graham’s retail therapy. I’ll be sweaty from trying clothes on by the first stop. I roll my shoulders and put my hair up in a messy bun.
Let’s do this.
Chapter Twelve
S
ydney
“Pinch me!” I yell at Graham, dashing to him when he steps into my dressing room. “Is this happening?”
After the Shane ordeal, I was hesitant to work with Tristan. But she changed my life. The last four months have been a whirlwind of coffee, interviews, promotions, and more coffee. Her songs were extraordinary and my first single landed me in the top twenty countdown. Which led me to open for a major headliner and go on tour with them. It starts tonight. For the next two months, I’ll be in twenty-nine cities. This is absolute craziness.
He wraps his arms around me. “It’s really happening.” He draws back and eyes my attire. I snicker, shaking my head. Typical Graham and his clothing rules. I whirl in place, showing off my white shorts and a black tank. Kicking up my foot to make sure he notices my boots makes him chuckle. He touches my hair, which hangs past my shoulders now. I swear I dropped ten pounds with the extensions cut off. “I guess I like it.”
Narrowing my eyes, I huff. “I love it.”
“I’m kidding.” He grins. “I love it too. You look like a star.”
“Sky, this came for you,” Brett, our stage manager, says as he strolls into the room. He’s carrying a bouquet of exquisite red roses. Placing them on my dressing room table, I smile wide, glancing at Graham.
“Don’t look at me, sister. It’s your other admirer. You know, the one that’s brawny, brooding with eyes that can cast a spell on you, and a beautiful smile when you catch it.”
Not likely. I hadn’t spoken to Max since our phone call months ago. Addison talks about Max every few times we talk, giving me updates as if I asked for them. I’ll never admit I like hearing them though. I tug the note from the plastic holder and open the small envelope, pulling out the card.
Roses are red
Violets are blue
You’re goin’ to kill it
With your voice, it’s true.
~ Your Best Friend