“We can’t. You’re my boss now remember.”
“What if I command you?” The chanting had not subsided. He had to return, he always did at least one final song.
“Sexual harassment.” He growled. Her contract was secured by RSE but as partner in the label she was technically correct.
“What if I begged?”
She pulled her head back, taking her sweet lips with her. “You wouldn’t.”
“Would it work?” He nibbled on her exposed neck. Trying to stop proved impossible.
“Maybe.” She moaned as he suckled lower.
“Then I would.”
There it was again, her laughter.
“I’d give you my best James Brown impression.”
She laughed harder and his manhood reached for her. “I’m sure I could throw in a cape.”
“And Bobby Byrd too.”
He shot up. “What do you know about Bobby Byrd?”
“That’s for me to know…and you to…find out.” Her eyes caressed his face, Marques pulled her closer.
“So that’s a yes?”
Knock. Knock. Knock. What he wouldn’t give to have her to himself. No fans. No assistants. Alone. Maybe a bed too.
“Your fans are waiting.” Brione placed her hands on his exposed skin, running her tongue up his chest. “To be continued.”
He swore it sounded like regret in her voice. He cupped her face, kissing her slow and easy. “We could always slip out the back door.”
She playfully smacked him on the chest. “No, sir. Your fans need you to be every bit of the fantasy they desire and I’ll be here once you’re done.”
“I think my idea was better.”
Knock. Knock. Knock. “Marques!” Eliana’s demand snapped him back to reality.
“I’m coming.”
Brione’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she captured her lower lip between her teeth. He’d rather do it for her, but it would only serve as another tether to her. Adding to the way she was managing to slither past his defenses, even though he knew mixing business and women was bad business.
Marques reached for the door stopping to adjust himself. The screams for an encore had not subsided, wasn’t that what he always wanted. Fans screaming his name, fans waiting on his every note. But right now, all he wanted was her. The oddest, damnedest feeling but the realest one too.
He opened the door and the crowd went nuts. He glanced over his shoulder and immediately he saw the withdrawn look in her eyes.
Brione had fire beneath her quiet ways that he wanted to explore, thankfully she was stuck with him until the launch concert in Atlanta. He turned to Eliana on the other side of the doorway.
“I think I owe you a raise.”
“I’ll remember that. Now go sing another song so we can call it a night.”
“Yes, ma’am. Make sure she doesn’t sneak out the back door.”
Eliana glanced over at Brione and whispered. “I can’t make any promises.”
Brione sat in the office in a mind-numbing, body-tingling daze. What got into her? That answer was simple. Marques.
As Andrew Carter, his sex appeal ranked a strong eight point five out of ten. She had to take off for the worn jeans. But as Marques with his shirt opened, abs exposed, and his voice…Lord have mercy his rank soared somewhere in the galaxy. One of those rambling numbers that sounded unlikely, unrealistic, fabricated. A number that made the hearer nod because how on earth could one question or fact check it.
Marques’ energy charged the room to one hundred percent and it zapped her rational thinking. The part of her that dealt with tasks reasonably, decent and in order, logical—with her clothes on.
The pianist played a few chords and the energized audience died down. A few scattered cries echoed until the only sound left was Marques. His voice filled every crook and cranny of the room, as if his voice wanted to wiggle past Brione's past. Past her defenses. But she couldn’t let it.
Brione let out a long sigh. What now? Sitting back in her seat in the row was out of the question. Then she recalled Marques mentioning a backdoor. Her back stiffened. She stood up and grabbed her purse, walking on the balls of her feet to keep her heels from clicking on the vinyl flooring. The wooden planked appearance of the floors created a cozy atmosphere. It welcomed her as she chatted with Andrew over coffee and pumpkin bread. But tonight as she tiptoed through the doorway of the office she wrestled with staying and exploring Marques’ offer or doing what she always does. The right thing.
Eliana’s back was to her as she faced the concert rocking with the crowd.
Brione glanced at his profile, he gripped the microphone in one hand while reaching toward the audience with the other. His words swept over her, “Don’t run from my love.” The angst in his voice lit a fire in the pit of her soul.
Brione couldn’t stay. Not when the touch of his lips made her forget she had a plan and his body wasn’t part of it. Not being vulnerable, sexually charged, and unquestionably not his touch. Stick with the plan.
She peeped around the corner. Her eyes drawn to the red letters of the exit sign. Relief washed over her, less than fifteen steps. The sound of an angelic chorus hummed in her head as the backdoor beckoned her closer. She took a few steps around the doorway and flicked the light out. She glanced back, Eliana was under his spell too.
Brione tiptoed tucked deep in the shadows of the hallway. Her steps brought her closer to freedom. What would she tell Eliana when she called later? How would she explain not taking the job and returning the deposit for her services? Working with Marques wouldn’t work. Andrew Carter, maybe. But him, she stared at Marques on the stage once more.
Images of the red chair with his body on hers flooded her mind. Her fingers brushed her lips still remembering the feel of his lips. In that brief moment time stopped. She didn’t think of Stewart, her clerkship, or even Kayla. Only him and getting lost in a place of pure ecstasy.
She shook her head. She wasn’t a typical twenty-four-year-old woman that could allow herself to get swept off her feet by a rockstar. She had no illusions of happily ever afters or men who were trustworthy and faithful. Not even her father lived up to that one.
She couldn’t afford to let lust control her decisions. Her life stopped being her own when she gave birth to Kayla and it ceased to function normally when the Bradleys used her naivety as bait for her father.
She had no time to succumb to Marques’ melodic voice or kind eyes. Nor could she decline the contract, not when she needed the six-figure salary he offered to get custody of her baby.
Completing the contract with Rockstar Entertainment would give her a fighting chance against Stewart and his parents. Just like tonight’s concert, Marques was offering her a golden ticket. She only had to remember this was just a job, like the law firm. She’d show up and exceed their expectations. She’d collect her fee and use her salary to appeal to Stewart’s greed.
Brione clinched her purse strap and pushed against the door, determined to regroup and return. No more kissing. No more licking. She’d keep it strictly business.
Easy enough, right?
Chapter Ten
Sunday morning Marques sat at a booth nursing his second cup of coffee. The rush from last night’s concert left him eager for the album release. It was as he imagined. The fans sang along even with the EP songs. He glanced at his watch, his parents should get home from church soon. They texted on their way out wanting all the details. His folks were the best.
He rubbed at his tired eyes, waking this early was unnatural for him. But Bruce and Eliana returned to Atlanta presenting him the opportunity he needed to meet with Brione. He snagged a booth and told Eliana to keep his presence a surprise. He saw the frightened look in Brione’s eyes last night as she slipped out the back door. It made him want to wrap an arm around her and pull her close.
Brione entered the cafe. Her curly hair up in a simple ponytail, relaxed. Her eyes swept the room and froze on his. Her peaceful expressi
on morphed into a tense gaze. He smiled and stood, calling on all the rules his mother ever taught him about being a gentleman. He’d need it.
She gestured to the counter and he met her in the line.
“Good morning beautiful.” He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the cheek then removed his shades to see her better. Last night he went back and forth with himself about how to engage this fascinating, beautiful creature. Her attempts to keep him at arm's length heightened his curiosity.
“You look…” her eyes scanned his face “exhausted.”
He nodded. “Performing zaps every ounce of energy in my body. It takes days for me to fully recover.”
“But you love it.”
“That I do.”
They stepped in unison as the line moved approaching the counter. He drained the last of his coffee ready for a third cup, aware that he’d crash back at the hotel. He really needed to consider buying a place in Houston.
“Welcome to Coffee Confessions, give in to your guilty pleasure. How can I be of service?”
“Would you like your usual?” He glanced down at her.
“Yeah, let me get it today.” She fumbled with her purse.
He stopped her with a hand, turning to the barista. “Can I get two of these?” He wiggled his empty cup, the heat from Brione’s gaze caused him to look her way. “Yes?”
“Nothing.” Her curious gaze was reward enough. She’d better get ready because he planned to wear her down, slowly, but surely.
“Would you like bread too?” He asked.
She nodded.
“We’ll take two slices of pumpkin bread warmed.” He pulled out his card and turned back to the woman that haunted his dreams again. “How’d you sleep last night?”
Her eyes flashed and landed on his mouth. “Not the best.”
“Really?” He put his wallet in his back pocket and guided her to the pickup area. “How about you guard our booth and I’ll get our order?”
He watched her walk away. Her round bottom in her jeans paired with ankle boots. She always looked put together. Ready to work. Except last night, her little black dress revealed a sexy side.
“Sir?” The young man passed their bread.
“Thank you.
“You’re welcome. Thanks again for the tickets last night. My girl and I had a blast.” He smiled from ear to ear.
“That’s what’s up.” They dabbed fists and Marques gathered their coffees then made his way back to the table. He lowered the loot and slipped in the seat across from Brione.
“Tell me about yourself. You’re a law student and an events coordinator?” He leaned back locking eyes with her.
“Yes and no.” She passed him a few napkins and removed the splash stick from her coffee. She took a long drink. “This is so good.”
His heart skipped a beat as a serene smile crossed her lovely face. “I agree. I think your favorite is officially my new favorite.”
She looked away and he could see the flush of red on her face. “I am a third-year law student and organize events a few weekends a month. I specialize in political fundraisers and community outreach.”
“That’s exactly what I need. To build more awareness. I want to emerge from the underground.” He used his fingers to air quote underground. It was something he had to do in the beginning to separate himself from his family name. “Have you done work with musicians before?”
She shook her head and lowered her cup to the table. “No, you’re the first.”
“I’m sure the skills are similar. Probably a little easier than raising funds for politicians.”
She laughed. “I guess it depends. What is your goal for the event?”
“Top 10 on the overall charts.” He relaxed an arm across the back of the booth and tapped his finger on the table. “For my concerts, I see them as an opportunity to connect with my fans and hopefully make new fans. We get to develop a sense of brand recognition for my live performance style.” He leaned forward. “But the heartbeat of this marketing endeavor is to get people to either buy the cd or stream the content.”
She scribbled in her notebook. “CDs are what ten bucks?”
He shrugged, “Physical CDs average around thirteen dollars. Digital CDs somewhere around eight or so depending on the artist.”
She nodded. “And that’s what you mean by streams?”
“No. Traditional album sales are those that are purchased whether physical or digital but streams are when people listen to my music from a streaming platform. Those can count towards record sales. So every fifteen hundred streams of songs from an album equal one sale for the charts.”
“How many sales do you think is needed to reach the Top 10?”
“That’s hard. It depends on who else is releasing during the same week, and it changes day to day. For us, we released this EP to warm up our audience hoping that it will overshadow whoever releases the same day. But the internal goal is roughly five hundred thousand.”
“Wow.”
He laughed at her shocked expression. “You got that right.”
She jotted a few more notes down and he saw a long list of checkboxes. She flipped through the pages and picked up a purple pen adding notes in the margin.
“Whatcha got there?” Her hand floated above the notebook, the sheet of paper was full of notes.
“Since I couldn’t sleep I thought about your concert and came up with a few ideas.”
“Let me hear these ideas of yours.” Curious to see what his beauty would share. His? He dropped his gaze. Another problem. Kissing her was like stamping his name all over her. He brushed his thumb over the cardboard sleeve, reminding himself to take it slow.
“I know we talked about one more show in Houston for the release. But I thought, what if you could recreate last night for more of your true fans?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll explain but let me ask a couple of questions. Where are your fan hotspots?”
“In the States?” He took a drink of his now cold coffee.
She nodded.
He glanced up and thought about her question. “Atlanta, Houston, LA, New York, Chicago, Las Vegas, Philly, DC. I have a growing popularity in Austin after performing at the South by Southwest a few times. I find anywhere that welcomes indie artists has been a good place for me. But with this album I expect it to shift a little. Our marketing team will lean towards award shows, major concerts and the like.”
“Well, I’m thinking of this like I’d handle a new politician. We hit their hotspots first and let the energy flow from a warm place into the other areas."
“I like the sound of that. And repeat what I did last night?”
Her eyes locked with his. “Yes, you’d repeat the show from last night.” Her head dropped to her notebook. She flipped a few pages. “I think you should repeat the golden ticket concept and do it in each city. And offer a special VIP package for ten lucky fans.” She tapped her pen on the page. “When is the release date?”
“The date is up in the air. I’m hoping for end of summer. The label makes the final call on the release date once we have good numbers from the EP and a true gauge from the fans.” He shifted in the seat. “I would love a date now but releasing a debut album is tricky. So I’m leaving it up to Cameron to decide. I focus on the performance, Cameron on the business and Bruce on the music.”
“You guys sound like a dynamic team.”
“We are. Those guys are amazing. I couldn’t ask for a better team.” He smiled.
“I think we can manage to affordably hit five key cities. That should be exactly what they need to gauge numbers. We can use the pending release date as the dangling carrot at the end. We hit each city and move to the next, hopefully generating the buzz to make each subsequent show bigger than the last. Then end it all in Atlanta with the official announcement of the release date.”
Marques’ heart raced. The reality of it all actually happening for him was surreal. Brione’s idea was what they n
eeded to push his project uphill. It should also be the conduit to move him from underground to mainstream.
“I’m sure you need to talk this over with your team. Here are some numbers for you all to consider.”
His breath caught. “You have numbers too.”
The easy smile of a very confident woman spread across her face. “Absolutely.”
“Lay it on me then.”
Chapter Eleven
Brione closed her notebook after they talked numbers. She had a solid plan, another merit for Eliana.
“We talked numbers for making each of the concerts happen. What about your fee?”
“Eliana and I discussed doubling the original proposal. I think me handling these additional dates should fall under that adjustment.”
“I disagree.”
She fidgeted with the corner of the notebook. “What do you propose?”
“I’d like to retain your services exclusively for the duration of this tour. And we can triple the original fee.”
Her eyes looked like saucers behind her glasses. “Triple?” she whispered.
“Yes, and you’ll join me on the road. Don’t forget that part.”
Her hand dropped to her throat, Marques licked his lips. This had nothing to do with wanting to sample her again but the idea of having alone time with her on the tour bus appealed to him.
“I have another assignment at the end of the summer.”
“That’s fine. I’m sure we can nail down the tour dates by the end of the week. Right?”
“Sure. I made some query calls this morning.”
“We have a few connections too. I’ll have Eliana send them over.”
“Okay. When can I expect to hear back from you?”
“You’re hearing from me now. I’m approving this plan. If the guys disagree I’ll pay your fee out of pocket.”
Her eyebrow piqued. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.” Marques leaned forward.
“You do know that I’m not part of this agreement?” she asked with her arms crossed over her chest. The rapid rhythm of the rise and fall of her chest told him everything he needed to know. She could deny their chemistry all she wanted, he knew better.
Rockstar Secrets (Forbidden Chords Book 1) Page 5