It was the first time any of them had heard the track all the way through and Bay felt sick with nerves. All through the process, she and Rocky had worked so well together. They were so natural that while they were in the studio, she had been in no doubt they had made a fantastic record …but now all her confidence deserted her.
Tom winked at her as Rocky pressed play. Even he had refused to listen until now. He wanted all of their reactions to be as natural, as organic, as possible.
Bay jumped as her own voice soared out of the speakers in the room and she felt her face burn as everyone reacted, sitting up. She even heard a quiet, “Jesus,” from one of the men. Even she, as modest as she was, had to admit that she’d nailed the vocal. When Rocky’s rap came in, their voices weaved around each other, in and out, up and down, making a wall of melody so addictive that the atmosphere in the room became electric. It wasn’t a long track, maybe two minutes and fifty seconds, but when it was over, the room was silent for a beat.
Bay glanced at Tom. His smile was all she needed to know. Roman Ford started to clap and the others joined in as Rocky nodded in appreciation and Bay laughed, amazed.
“That was incredible. Wow …just wow.” Otis shook his head and Tom laughed.
“When Otis is lost for words, you know you’ve done a good job.” He got up, kissed Rocky on the cheek, and hugged Bay, whispering to her. “You did good, sweetheart, really good.”
Her whole body seemed alive with adrenaline and excitement. She blinked back the tears that sprang into her eyes and she let out a long breath. Rocky high-fived her and Emily grinned.
“I think we have a great new songwriting partnership on our hands.”
Dash looked over at his partners. “I say we get this out as soon as possible.”
“For once, I agree,” Roman said, his quiet demeanor a peaceful oasis amidst the excitement. He smiled kindly at Bay. “You sure you’re ready for this? Because this record is going to be huge and I don’t say that often.”
“You never say that,” Dash muttered. “Look, we need to make a video and get some publicity shots done. Bay, how long are you in SF for?”
Bay looked at Tom, who nodded encouragingly. Bay took a deep breath in. “As long as I’m needed for this. I do need to get back to the band, though. That’s why I’m here, after all.”
Dash shared a look with Otis that she didn’t understand, but Tom nodded.
“Of course. Look, there may be appearances with Rocky to promote the record—you okay with that?”
Suddenly she felt overwhelmed and panic rose in her. Tom, watching her, saw it in her eyes and put a hand on her back. “Look, guys, I think we need to take a break.”
They found a quiet office along the corridor and Tom shut the door. “You okay?”
Bay shook her head. “It’s so much, Tom. I didn’t realize. I hadn’t even considered the promotion side …look, I’m worried that Kym and Pete will think—“
“Hey, hey, hey, easy.” He took her in his arms and felt her body trembling. “We can work around this. Plenty of featured artists don’t appear in the videos, but look, in this case, maybe we could get Kym and Pete to come down and we’ll release it as, “Featuring The 9th & Pine’”
Bay backed up and looked up at him. “Really? Even though they didn’t play on the record.”
Tom smiled. “Happens more than you think.”
“So we’d just be actors in the video, then?” They were on a conference call with Kym and Pete—and Stu, who was uncharacteristically silent.
“No, you’d be appearing as The 9th & Pine—as the featured artists.” Tom’s voice had a little edge to it. He’d explained it more than once already. Pete, in his easy way, had said, “Sure, why not? Been a while since I saw ’Frisco.”
Bay felt uneasy. Kym was being edgy. This was what she was afraid of. “Look, K, as far as I’m concerned it’s either all of us or none of us.”
Kym sighed. “That’s not fair. You worked so hard.”
“Doesn’t mean anything without you guys,” Bay said softly.
“This is all very touching,” Stu said finally, his voice icy. “But there’s a thing such as contracts to sort out here.”
“Not if Bay appears as a solo artist.”
“Does she?”
Bay opened her mouth, but Tom shook his head at her, pointing at the phone and mouthing, “I’m jerking his chain”. Bay shut her mouth and grinned. Tom didn’t answer Stu’s question directly, instead saying, in a bored voice, “In any case, this record is not part of the 9th & Pine’s contract.”
“Still, I am Bay’s manager—“
“Excuse me, but you are not my manager. You’re barely the band’s manager.” Bay’s words were harsh, she knew, but Stu had irritated her beyond comprehension.
“Look,” Kym sounded upset. “I think maybe we should just leave this. Bay, look, go make the video, do the promo, then come back and tell us what you’ve learned so we can get this project off the ground.”
After Tom ended the call, Bay sat back in her chair, looking unhappy. Tom waited for her to speak. Finally, she sighed.
“I think Kym’s right. On the record, can we use, ‘Featuring Bay Tambe, of The 9th & Pine?’ If we could make that work, I wouldn’t feel so bad. We could maybe get some press for the band.”
Tom tipped her chin up with his finger and kissed her. “Of course we can. Stop worrying. We’ll get things scheduled and you can be back in Seattle by the end of next week.”
In the end, it was two weeks before Bay got back home. Quartet dropped the single the day after the showcase at the office, shot the video two days later, and got it into rotation on the music channels three days after that. Within forty-eight hours it was rising up the billboard chart on downloads alone and the music press went crazy. The morning before she flew back to Seattle, Bay had her first interview—thankfully a joint one with Rocky—with Rolling Stone. Everyone wanted to know where the amazing voice had come from and when they got their first look at the gorgeous, young newcomer to the scene, it only increased their fascination.
In every interview, despite her terror, Bay made sure she talked about Kym and Pete as often as answering questions about herself. For extra confidence, Rocky’s agent, Emily, took her and Rocky out to breakfast beforehand and they both coached her.
“If you don’t like a question, either don’t answer it or send it back to them as a joke. Be easy and natural, but if you feel like you’re getting out of your depth, just look at Rocky and she’ll take over.”
Rocky was scarfing down an enormous breakfast burrito (one of the things they had bonded over most was food and their love of it). She grinned with her mouth full and Bay chuckled. “I am going to miss seeing you every day, Rocks.”
Rocky bumped her shoulder to Bay’s. “An hour away on the plane. Besides, I fully expect to be asked to guest on your first record.”
Emily smiled at Bay. “You’ll do fine. Believe me.”
Bay dropped her case on the floor of her apartment—her very dusty and dank apartment—and shuffled, exhausted, into the bathroom. She’d taken the red-eye. Tom had to stay behind in San Francisco for a meeting, and all she wanted now was to shower, take a nap, then go and meet Kym. She showered, sighing with relief as the water washed away the plane ride, then decided to make an omelet before going to bed. She flicked on the T.V. as she mixed the eggs, listening idly to Matt Lauer chat to his guest. It was only as she flipped her omelet onto a plate and sat down to eat that she took notice and sat up.
Kym’s mom, Charlie Clayton, was being interviewed about her latest record. God, to look that good when I’m sixty, Bay smiled fondly. She’d always liked Kym’s mom. It was just when she overshadowed her daughter that Bay caught Kym’s resentment. If Bay was being honest, she thought Kym’s dad was a tool and a dinosaur who still thought a woman’s purpose was to be barefoot and pregnant and that was it.
Matt was asking Charlie about her daughter, and Bay was glad when Charlie ha
ppily and proudly told him about The 9th & Pine’s record deal with Quartet and what that would mean to her daughter. Then Matt brought up Bay’s single with Rocky. Charlie smiled at him.
“Of course, Bay is the natural talent in that band. Kym has always had to work a little harder. Sometimes I wonder if there wasn’t a baby swap back in the day.”
“Oh fuck.” Bay let her fork clatter to the table and dropped her head into her hands. On the T.V. Matt Lauer laughed awkwardly and moved on. Bay grabbed her phone and called Kym.
“K, it’s me.”
“Oh, hey.” Kym’s voice was unnaturally high and Bay knew instantly she’d seen the interview. “If it isn’t the talent in the band.”
“Kymmy.” Bay never called her Kymmy unless it was an emergency like this. “You know what’s she’s like sometimes—all the tact of a wrecking ball. It’s not true and it’s not how she really feels.”
There was a long silence. “It’s how I feel.” Bay could barely hear her, but then she heard her sob.
“Oh Kym …look, I’m back now. Can I come over and see you?”
“No,” Kym’s answer was quick and hard, but then she sighed. “Sorry. I mean …I just need some time. Maybe in a couple of days. Bay?”
“What is it, honey?”
A pause, then, “Why didn’t you tell me about you and Tom?”
Bay felt a hot burn of shock. “What?”
“You and Tom. You’re sleeping with him, right?”
Bay swallowed and hesitated. “Yes.”
“And it’s been going on for a quite a while.”
“Yes.”
Kym gave a soft laugh. “Well, then.”
“It has nothing to do with the band.”
“Sure.”
“It really hasn’t.”
Kym sighed. “I have to go.”
“Kym, no, I—“ Kym had hung up.
Bay put her phone down, rested her head on the table, and groaned. “Fuck. Fuck.”
Kym crawled back to bed. She’d called into work sick this morning, too tired and sore to face anyone. Since the conference call with Bay and Tom two weeks earlier, Stu had been more and more irritable, until last night he’d snapped. She’d barely managed to barricade herself in the bathroom after he’d punched her to the floor, kicking her in the stomach as he ranted about betrayal, Bay, Tom, and how no-one gave him the respect he deserved.
She knew why he was behaving the way he was. Cocaine. A small vial of the white drug had fallen out of his pocket and rolled underneath the oven. He’d accused her of stealing it from his pocket when he couldn’t find it. In the end, she’d curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor and let him rant. She’d fallen asleep, only waking when he banged the front door on the way out.
Now she just wanted to sleep, drained of all her energy. Despite the abomination he was, Stu had been right about Bay and Tom, and now it seemed he’d been right about Tom grooming her best friend. Who could blame him?
“Not you, Mom,” she laughed humorlessly to herself. The pain that had shot through her at her mother’s words had burned her last shred of self-esteem.
Kym closed her eyes and prayed that she would never, ever have to wake up.
Tomas sat across from Bay and wondered where his lover had gone. She was so quiet and distant, and she had been since he got back from San Francisco. He’d had a craving for seafood and now they were sitting in this high-end seafood restaurant, exquisite food in front of them, and Bay was just …absent.
“Hey,” he leaned over the table and took her hand. “How does it feel to be the hottest thing on the Billboard chart?”
Bay blinked back and smiled at him. He noticed there were dark circles under her eyes and that their usual sparkle was gone. The violet had flattened into a dark purple.
“It’s cool. It’s just …I should be doing this with Kym and Pete.”
Tom sat back, frustrated. “Sweetheart, this is the game. We need to build a profile and the easiest way to do that is to feature on an already established artist’s record. You’ve done that and it’s a success. Now when the 9th & Pine release their own material, you’ll have a built-in fan base that will only grow. It’s Recording Industry 101.”
Bay leaned on her hand. “I know. I just feel like they—well, Kym—feels that I’m taking all the credit and publicity …and I don’t want it. I never have. I just want to play music.”
Her voice had gotten higher and higher until she broke off, looking away from him, her eyes filling with tears. “I don’t know if I’m cut out for this.”
Tom was silent. He wanted to wave a magic wand or have a problem he could throw money at and solve, but Bay’s lack of self-confidence wasn’t something he could do anything about. He told her that and she nodded sadly.
“I know and I don’t want you to think I’m not incredibly grateful, because I am. But maybe we’re rushing this.”
Tom suddenly realized she wasn’t just talking about the band. “You thinking that you and I are rushing things?”
She nodded, not meeting his gaze. “It’s all been so quick, I haven’t had time to process what we are to each other. I know we said no strings, but the way I feel …I can’t risk my heart for a fling.”
Tom breathed out. “This isn’t a fling. It’s not. I know that—I feel that. You mean more to me than that. Much more.”
She did look at him then. “As you do to me. It’s just, I’m not sure I’m ready for it to be more.” She gave a little laugh and a tear escaped. “I’m a mess, Tom. I may not seem it, but I am, and I don’t want to be a mess for you.
Tom leaned in and took her hand again. “Okay. Okay, let’s just slow things down. But, Bay, talk to me. Tell me what’s bothering you. What’s going on in that brilliant head of yours?”
She smiled. “Nothing you need to worry about. Look, I still want to do the band thing. I think once we get back in the studio together, I’ll feel better. Like it’s more collaborative and that the others are involved.”
He drove her home afterward and walked her to the door. Bay stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. “I feel badly. I feel like I’m pushing you away and I don’t mean to.”
He stroked his hand under her hair, massaging the back of her neck. He could feel the muscles bunch up. “Then don’t. I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to. I’ll wait until you’re ready. Just be ready soon.” He grinned to soften his words and bent his head to kiss her, lingering over the embrace until he felt her body melt against his.
“You’re not making this easy,” she grumbled, but her lips sought his again and then his arms were around her and she pulled him into the apartment. Tom grinned wickedly, unrepentant.
“You bet I’m not …call this a cooling off period. You know, the kind where you can change your mind if you want.”
“I don’t want …” But she had his shirt off and was kissing his chest, grazing his nipple with her teeth. He unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor, pulling at her bra and panties until she was naked in his arms.
“We should stop …” But her hands were at his fly, reaching in to stroke his cock, so thick and heavy already. He backed her up into her bedroom and they collapsed on the bed, fevered, clawing at each other, touching, tasting, drinking each other in.
“Don’t wait,” Bay gasped as he took first one and then the other nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting. His cock, bobbing under its own massive weight, plunged into her soft, velvety cunt and they moved together, their damp, excited bodies vibrating with pleasure. Tom bit down on her earlobe. “God, I want to fuck you all night,” he murmured and she felt a fiery rush of arousal flood through her at his words.
“Then do, oh …” Tomas slammed his hips into hers and she cried out, her nails tearing at his back. He drove her on and on toward her climax and when she came, it was a shuddering, trembling explosion of abandon.
When she woke in the morning, he was gone.
Bay pushed open the back door to the venue on 9th and Pin
e just as she had a million times before, but today was different. Today she didn’t know what she was walking into. Kym hadn’t answered any of her calls and hadn’t even answered her door when Bay went to her apartment. She didn’t even know if Kym would show at all. She said hi to the front-of-house guys who teased her as always, making her feel better.
Pete was already practicing when she made her way to the stage. His beaming smile and his big bear hug helped enormously. “Hey, kiddo, how are you doing? I missed your face.”
She tightened her arms around him. “Missed you too, Bear. I’m sorry I’ve been away for so long.”
Pete grinned and patted her back. “All worth it, though, Miss Numero Uno on the Billboard chart.”
She rolled her eyes. “Is it wrong that I’m kind of sick of the sound of my own voice at this point?”
Pete laughed. “Well, get over it. We have an album to write and songs to be sung.”
Bay put her bag down and shrugged out of her denim jacket. “Kym coming?” She tried to sound casual, but the look in Pete’s eye told her he wasn’t fooled.
“No idea. Haven’t talked to her for a while. You?”
She shook her head. “Well, maybe we should just work on the set list for Friday and see if she turns up.”
An hour later, Bay’s mood had lifted. Pete had deliberately kept her laughing as they picked songs for the gig. She glanced at her watch.
“Hey, should I go get us some coffee?”
She walked down to the coffeehouse at the corner of the block and ordered their usual drinks. As she waited, she suddenly saw Stu in a corner booth, talking animatedly to a person seated opposite. Bay edged around so she could see. It was a very young, very pretty redhead who Bay guessed to be graduate student aged. She was looking at Stu as if he were a demi-god. Bay gave a disgusted noise. Asshole. She could imagine exactly what he was saying to the girl—what bullshit he was spinning. She paid for the coffee, thanked the barista, and made her escape.
His Beautiful Revenge: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Page 68