“You’ll never guess who I saw,” she said, pushing the door open with her shoulder, then stopped. Kym stood with Pete, her eyes cold and unfriendly. Bay’s heart sank.
“Hey,” she said, handing a coffee to Pete. “Sorry, I didn’t think you were coming.”
Kym said nothing, just turned and picked up her guitar. “I see the set list has been decided already, like so much other stuff, so let’s just get on with this, shall we?”
Bay looked at Pete, who rolled his eyes. Nothing ever phased Pete. Bay sat at the piano and shrugged. “Okay.”
They went through five songs before Kym started to play erratically, squealing feedback as she moved her guitar over near the speaker. Bay and Pete stopped playing as she went into a long solo, out of tune, smiling nastily at her friends.
When she stopped, Bay was no longer guilty or upset, but supremely, overwhelmingly pissed.
“The fuck is wrong with you, Kym?”
Kym feigned surprise. “Oh, sorry, was that not up to your standards, Miss Billboard?”
“Don’t be a fucking bitch. Grow the hell up or get out of here.” Bay slammed the lid of the piano shut. “If you can’t be professional – “
Kym gave an expansive bow. “Do forgive me, your highness, but some of us aren’t ‘that talent in the band.’ Some of us don’t get given a career. Some of us don’t suck billionaire cock to get to the top of the fucking charts.”
Bay rocked back at the venom in Kym’s voice. She had opened her mouth to speak when Pete, his voice growling with anger, interrupted her.
“You don’t get to talk to Bay like that, missy. Not ever. Not here.”
Pete got up from behind his drum kit, all six-foot-seven of him, and glowered at Kym. “It’s not Bay’s fault that your Mom hasn’t the tact nor grace to acknowledge that she raised a talented, special daughter, despite her own failings. Neither of us would be here without Bay pushing us all those years ago. Do you think it was easy for the fat, gay kid at that school? Or the mixed-race girl with no parents? You got it easy, Kym. If your life hasn’t turned out the way you wanted it to, it’s down to you.”
Kym and Bay were staring at him in astonishment. Pete looked between them both and went back to sit behind his kit. “Now, shall we get through this rehearsal?”
Kym nodded once, a stiff, quick nod, not looking at Bay. They managed to get through the rest of the set list, but as soon as the last note was played, Kym jerked the guitar off and left. Bay let out a huge sigh. Pete hugged her, but Bay’s eyes filled with tears. “Shit,” she said. “Everything’s such a mess.”
Pete held her as she wept for a moment, then as she brushed the tears away, he grabbed her jacket. “Come on. You need a night of silliness at Hank and Pete’s.”
Tom fought the urge to call Bay, knowing that she needed space, but it was driving him crazy. He wasn’t an arrogant man but he’d never had to try before. Women fell over themselves to get to him. He conceded with a wry grin that maybe that wasn’t a good thing. But, God, he just wanted to go over there and kiss that golden skin, that deep pink mouth, and see those violet eyes soft with love.
His intercom buzzed. “Stuart Lawson is here to see you.”
Fuck, that was all he needed. “Okay, let him in. Then call pest control to fumigate the place.”
His assistant covered a snort of laughter. “Whatever you say, boss.”
Tom stared at Stu coolly as the man sat down in front of him. “What’s up?”
Stu smirked. “I want to know how Bay’s record is going to help the band. At the moment, all the press seems to be interested in is her. That wasn’t our deal.”
Tom sat back in his seat. “Of course the press is going to be interested in her, but, if you actually bothered to read the interviews, all Bay does is talking about the band. I’ll admit, she hasn’t mentioned you once.” Childishly, he enjoyed the look of annoyance on Stu’s face.
“Be that as it may, we’re not moving forward.”
Tom raised an eyebrow. “How so?”
Stu smirked. “Don’t you know? I would have thought you would have heard it from the horse’s mouth—unless, of course her mouth was busy elsewhere.”
Tom went very still. When he spoke, his voice was hard and flinty. “You need to watch yourself, Lawson. Now, I’ll ask again—what’s the problem?”
Stu, his supercilious smirk still plastered on his face, said, “The rest of the band is pissed. They feel they’ve been left behind by Bay’s success.”
Tom rolled his eyes. “Sure they do, because both Kym and Pete haven’t the sense to know that any publicity is good publicity. As far as I’m aware, they’re still booked into the studio we chose; we’ve scheduled the sessions around Kym and Pete’s—“
“Yeah, yeah, I know all this. What I mean is money. How much does the band get from the sales of the single?”
Tomas smiled. “Nothing. That money is Bay’s and Bay’s alone. Both Kym and Pete knew this and were fine with it …unless, of course, someone has been poisoning the well.”
Stu was wide-eyed and innocent. “No idea what you mean. Well, this was great. We must do this again sometime.” He got up. “That contract is watertight. Pay or play, Meir. I don’t care if your girlfriend’s fucking Madonna. We had a deal. Make it happen.”
Tom blew out his cheeks after Stu had left. The dude was an idiot. He knew about himself and Bay, though, clearly, and Tom wondered how. The disturbing thought that Stu might be following them—or stalking Bay—leaped to the forefront of his mind.
He pushed the thought away. Whether he liked or not, Bay was Stu’s meal ticket. He wouldn’t fuck that up. Would he?
Pete and Hank drove Bay home that night after plying her with food and drink and finally coaxing a smile out of her. Pete made sure she got to her door, then hugged her. “Don’t worry about Kym. She’s mad at the world lately. That damn mother of hers didn’t help.”
Bay leaned against him. “I don’t think I did either.”
Pete kissed the top of her head. “Get some sleep, honey.”
He opened her door for her and she swayed inside before turning. “Petesh?”
He smiled at her slurred words. “Yes?”
She hiccupped gently. “I’m in love with Tom.”
Pete’s grin widened. “Tell me something I don’t know. Get into bed and call him.”
After Pete had gone, Bay filled a large glass of water and drained it, ferreting in the pantry for a bag of potato chips. She wandered around her tiny apartment and remembered what it had been like to swank around in Tomas’s hotel suite or screw like teenagers in the houseboat he was now living in. She grabbed her phone—booty call?—then shoved it deep into her bag. She didn’t want to mess with his head and there was always a risk of him rejecting her. She wouldn’t blame him.
She had turned to go the bedroom when there was a knock at the door. She squinted at the clock. Just after one a.m. A strange fluttering excitement started in her belly. Maybe he’d been thinking the same thing …
She opened the door and groaned. Stu. “What the hell are you doing here? It’s one a.m. Come to tell me I’m a diva? Cause your girlfriend already covered that.”
Stu smiled, then before she could react, he pushed into the flat, slamming the door behind him. “We need to have a little talk.”
Her heart pounding, Bay backed away from him. “Stu, get the hell out of here.”
He ignored her and sat down at the kitchen table, crossing his legs. Bay, still drunk, felt a prickling fear crawling over her skin. The alcohol made her movements uncoordinated and awkward. Keep him calm. She sat down at the other end of the table. Stu smiled, victorious.
“Now,” he leaned forward. “Here’s the deal. I worked long and hard to get Quartet to come see the band. I brought Tomas Meir, the fucking CEO, to Seattle. Everything was perfect, then you spread your legs for him and suddenly it’s all about you.”
Bay stood, steadying herself on the table. “Get out of my apart
ment, Stu, or I’ll call the police. Whatever I do in my private life has noth—“
In a flash, he had her by the throat, ramming her up against her kitchen cabinets. Her head slammed back against a handle, but she didn’t feel the pain. The terror of his hand closing around her neck kept everything else at bay. He pushed his face against hers. She could smell liquor and cigarettes.
“Do not fuck this up for me, Bay, or by God, you’ll regret it.”
She met his gaze, now with anger as well as fear. “Get your hands off me, you fucking creep.”
It was over in a second. Smiling, he drove his fist into her stomach. It was quick, but the force of his blow made it feel like her stomach was exploding, taking her breath away. She cried out in agony, and as he let her go, she slumped to the floor, trying desperately to drag oxygen into her body. Every breath was agony. Gasping, she looked up at him. Stu smiled.
“That’s nothing to what I’ll do if you screw this up. Now, I expect you to concentrate on the band from now on. I don’t care if you have to suck Meir’s cock to do it, but get this band to the top of the charts. I’ve put in too much time to lose out now.”
After he left, she scampered to the door and double-locked it, sliding to the floor as harsh sobs racked her body. She could barely believe what had just happened. Her throat felt raw from Stu’s fingers and from her own hoarse cries.
Eventually, she managed to crawl to bed and curled up under the comforter. Everything in her body screamed at her to call Tomas, call the police, call anyone.
But there was no one. She had pushed Tom away, and why would the police believe her? They’d write her off as just another drunk.
She turned over in bed and looked at the photo of Ravi. His merry, dark eyes, the same shade of violet as hers, sparkled out of the photo, accented by his dark curls and dark honey skin. Bay shook her head, feeling the tears coming again. “Why did you leave me alone?” she whispered to her long dead brother.
But as always, of course, there was only silence.
There was an awkward atmosphere in the studio the next day. Bay and Kym didn’t look at each other and Pete tried in vain to get some flow to the work, but nothing was happening. Eventually, he grabbed them and made them look at each other.
“We have this amazing opportunity and you two are acting like …I’m going out for a half hour. When I get back, we’re going to make some freakin’ music or I’m done. Got it?”
For a few moments, they sat in silence, then Bay said, “I love it when Pete goes ham on us.”
Kym’s mouth twitched up at the corner and she met Bay’s gaze. They burst out laughing and Bay felt relief flooding through her. Kym threw herself at her friend and they embraced, hugging each other tightly.
“I’m so sorry, Bubba,” Kym mumbled into her hair, “I was such a bitch.”
“I’m sorry too. I knew I shouldn’t have done that record.”
Kym sat back and wiped her eyes. “That’s crap. It’s an amazing song. I’m sorry that I took what my mom said out on you.”
“She can be a douche.”
Kym laughed again. “I know, and I know she didn’t mean it. I know this because a very large check arrived two days after that interview.”
Bay shook her head. “One day she’ll realize that she has an amazing daughter and if she’d just spent a little more time—“
“Yeah,” Kym said sadly. “Maybe that will happen, but I won’t wait for that day.”
Bay looked down at her hands. “Tom and I are taking a break. I thought it best.”
“Oh, Bay …god …” Kym sat down next to her friend. “I’m so sorry for what I said. I’m really happy you’ve found someone.”
“That’s just it. I can’t, Kym. I can’t get involved with him. When we started, it was agreed—just sex. No strings. But—and it happened so fast--I got attached, and as soon as I did, I got scared. Scared of losing him. Scared of not being able to cope if I got more involved.”
“You fell for him?”
Bay nodded. “Hard. And I’m just not ready.”
“Ravi?”
“Yes. It’s been nearly two years and I can’t get past it. It chokes me, the fear of letting someone that close, then losing them.” Bay nudged Kym with her shoulder. “Of course, I’ve tried to get rid of you too, but you just keep hanging around.”
Kym grinned at her friend. “Like a bad smell.”
“Eww.”
“Sorry.”
Bay sighed. “Well, come on. Let’s just get something down. You got any ideas?”
“A ton. Been scribbling in this.” Kym held up a battered notebook. “Since I was sixteen.”
“And you didn’t show me?” Bay faked being hurt and Kym laughed.
“I do have some secrets.”
Bay looked at her friend, wanting to say the words—wanting to tell her about what Stu had done to her, but …Kym looked so exhausted, so worn down, that she couldn’t do it.
Pete saved her from making a decision. When he saw them hugging, he beamed.
“Nice save, boss.” Bay high-fived him as Kym picked up her guitar and smiled at them both.
“Let’s get things rockin.’”
This time, it was the three of them in Quartet’s boardroom, facing not just the four partners, but an invited audience of recording industry honchos and music press—and they were performing live. Even the normally stoic Pete was sweating. Bay thought she might throw up and Kym was a shade of green that had no name in the English language. Bay caught Tomas’s eye and smiled hesitantly. He grinned back, complete guilelessly, as if they hadn’t been avoiding each other for the past two months as The 9th & Pine worked on new material. They’d spoken a few times on the phone late at night when their conversations were loaded with unspoken yearning and I miss you’s.
Tom winked at her and gave a little nod, and suddenly Bay felt a new confidence. Rocky and Emily had come up to Seattle and they were huddled at the back of the room, waving and grinning.
Tom stood up to introduce the band. “Thanks for coming, everyone. It’s an exciting day for all of us, especially Quartet Records. We don’t get the opportunity enough in this business to really nurture raw talent, as it’s the norm now to harvest acts from Disney and Nickelodeon, or sweep up the rejects from reality shows. That’s why it’s such an incredible feeling when you see true, inherent talent just waiting for their shot. That’s what I felt when I saw The 9th & Pine for the first time. These three musicians—Kim Clayton on guitar, a second-generation rock star who decided to hone her craft rather than take advantage of the fact her parents are Charlie and Mac Clayton.” He nodded and smiled at Kym, who flushed with pleasure. “Pete Espinoza on drums—“ Tom turned to grin at Pete. “Sasquatch and skins man extraordinaire. And finally, Baijayanthi Tambe, pianist and owner of the finest vocals this side of Adele, and as of this morning—“ he paused and shared a grin with Rocky. “a platinum selling artist.”
Bay’s eyes widened as the room burst into applause. Kym grinned at her and Pete battered his drums. Tom held up his hands for quiet.
“So, enough from me. Ladies and gentlemen …The 9th & Pine.”
Tom motioned for the waitress and ordered more Cristal champagne. The V.I.P. area of the club was sweaty and hot as they celebrated the success of the showcase.
“They were blown away,” Tom told them now as they leaned in to hear him over the music. “We’ll start hearing stuff in the press now, really building up momentum, so now is the time where you need to start thinking about putting together eleven or twelve tracks for a record.”
“We’ll put out a couple of tester tracks soon,” Dash interjected. “So we don’t waste the effect of Bay’s single with Rocky. Tom tells me you and Rocky have discussed her appearing on the album?”
Bay nodded. “But only if Kym and Pete are okay with that.”
“We are,” Kym said as Pete nodded his ascent. They chatted some more with Dash, but Bay very aware of Tom sitting next to her, his b
ig thigh against hers, and could think of little else but the warmth of his body heat, the way his eyes roamed over her body, and the rhythmic stroking of his hand on her back. She met his gaze, her chest tight, her belly quivering, and a frantic pulse beating between her legs. God, she had missed that face, that mouth on her body, and those eyes looking deep into hers. I want you so badly …
Tom smiled as if he could read her mind, then leaned in, his lips at her ear. “There’s an office upstairs—the manager’s a good friend of mine. Excuse yourself in two minutes and meet me there.”
He got up before she could answer and she followed his progress across the dancefloor. He didn’t look back. Her mouth hitched up at the corner. He was so sure. So confident.
And completely right. She got up—the others were still deep in conversation and no one paid her any attention. She slipped to the side of the club and up the stairs. At the top of the stairs, a huge bodyguard was blocking the way and she hesitated. He smiled down at her.
“Miss Tambe?”
She nodded and he stood aside to let her pass. “End of the corridor, ma’am.”
She thanked him, suddenly nervous. Had Tom planned all of this? She had a bemused grin on her face as she pushed the door to the office open and gasped. A multitude of candles flickered in the room, the overhead lights all shut off.
“Tom?”
She felt him behind her. “Don’t turn around.”
Her breath quickened, excitement mixing with wanton desire. Tom bent his head and kissed her bare shoulder, his fingers trailing around her waist. “You’ve kept me waiting long enough, Baijayanthi. Too damn long. Are you mine?”
The sensation of his lips on her skin and his hands on her body was intoxicating. “Yes,” she whispered, leaning into him, feeling his lips move to her neck and around to her throat, and feeling his fingers at the zipper of her dress, pulling it down.
He stripped her slowly, dropping her dress to the floor, and she felt his tongue trace a line down her spine. She shivered and he chuckled, a low, sensual sound. His teeth nipped at her earlobe as she heard him pull down his tie. A moment later, he wrapped the fabric around her eyes.
His Beautiful Revenge: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Page 69