In Bed with the Devil: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance

by Tia Siren

  “Yeah, man, I feel the same way,” said Garrett.

  Then, I had an epiphany. I didn’t enjoy my job because it was fulfilling and what I wanted to do. I enjoyed it because I got to work with someone I loved and respected.

  I thought about writing music with Bailey, and working every day together at her studio or any studio, and how I’d be working with someone I deeply loved and greatly respected.

  “You know what?” I said. “Moving wouldn’t be so bad after all. It would be risky, scary—”

  “Hell, yeah man,” he agreed. “There ain’t no shame in admitting that. It’d be weird if you weren’t scared.”

  “You’d have to come and visit me,” I said. “At least twice a year, no matter where I might end up.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” said Garrett. “Even if some time passed, we’ve got phones and computers. We’ll be fine, man.”

  We shook hands, doing a drunken version of an old handshake we used to do sometimes in school. It was that handshake that sealed my fate.

  I sat in bed with Bo, aimlessly plucking the strings on my guitar.

  I thought about how strange it would be to sell my house and leave Rome behind. I would miss it, but I knew that I would miss Bailey so much more if I chose to not have her in my life. I was without her for six years, and even at the height of my happiness, I was leading a half-life.

  I imagined Bailey and I picking out a house together, with a big tree out in the front and back, and grass as green as it could be. I would look out back and see one of my children climbing the tree, similarly to how Bailey and I used to do as kids.

  I thought about standing on a spectacular stage with Bailey, playing songs together and singing in perfect harmony. I imagined what different holidays would be like together, and how amazing it would be to get to do everything together with my closest friend.

  I considered getting back in the car and going to Memphis again, but I held off. It was torture to practice patience with how anxious I was, but I took a deep breath and relaxed.

  I leaned over and pet Bo. “We’ll see Bailey again soon, Bo. One day soon.”

  Chapter 34

  Bailey

  I arrived back in Memphis late on Tuesday night. I went straight home and crashed in bed, spent from the day I had.

  I woke up early the next day and headed over to the studio right after sunrise. I was hoping to have the studio all to myself.

  Yet, as I parked in my usual spot outside, I saw Leah’s car already there. I was slightly discouraged in terms of the flow I was hoping to have, but I was determined not to let a lack of solitude prohibit me from working.

  Leah was sitting in the recording booth, scrolling through her phone. I made myself some coffee and then joined her in the booth.

  “Good morning,” I told her.

  “Morning.”

  “What brings you here so early?” I asked.

  “The hot water is out at my place,” she said. “I wanted to shower, so I showered here. I was almost falling back asleep.”

  “You could go back home. You don’t live far.”

  “No, I was hoping you were going to show up,” said Leah. “I wanted to talk with you for a while.”

  “Look, I still don’t think signing with that label—”

  “I don’t think signing with them is a good idea, either,” she stressed. “I don’t want to talk to you about record labels, or tours, or anything specific about the future.”

  “Okay. What do you want to talk about?” I asked.

  Leah pondered to herself, humming quietly and searching for the right words.

  “Hello?” I said.

  She bit her lip. “I have something I need to show you. But, we’ll get to that later. For now, I think we should go out.”

  “Go out?”

  Leah stood up and grabbed her purse.

  “Leah?”

  “Let me take you out to get your nails done,” she said. “Come on, we haven’t had our nails done together in forever. Let’s get pampered. We deserve it.”

  “I think we have another hour or two to wait before the salons open,” I said looking at the time.

  “Then, practice, play—whatever you came here to do,” she said. “After, we’ll go get pampered.”

  “Actually, do you think we could talk about Darren?” I asked. “When I was in Rome, I saw Garrett. He said that Darren was here.”

  “Right, I saw him yesterday,” said Leah.

  We both stared at each other. I must’ve looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

  “Oh, had I not brought that up to you yet?” she asked.

  “I’ll play later,” I said, grabbing my own bag. “I’ll get us breakfast. You get us the manicure. Tell me everything.”

  I drove Leah and me to Gracie’s to get some good breakfast. We spent most of the time talking rather than eating.

  She told me about how Darren had come to the studio looking for me. She dished on nearly everything that they said to each other, and I was floored.

  “He said that he’s in love with you,” Leah told me.

  I knew that I was also in love with him, and after that day, I vowed to myself to not abandon my feelings and wants so irrationally.

  We finished our food once she was finished filling me in on all the details. I couldn’t completely empty my plate because my energy wasn’t spent eating. I wanted nothing more, at that moment, than to get on the next flight back to Atlanta.

  I drove us to Sunnywood Mall, a pretty sketchy mall with questionable stores; however, we both loved the nail salon the mall had beside the food court.

  We didn’t even have to hang out in the waiting area of the salon once we arrived. We sat down next to each other, relaxed, closed our eyes, and got our nails done.

  “This was a good idea,” I admitted.

  “How’re you holding up after the bombshells?” asked Leah.

  “I don’t really know what to say. I can’t believe he came back for me.”

  “He looked really cute when he realized you went back for him,” she said. “If he had wings, he’d have flown over a rainbow.”

  “Aw, that’s so sweet.”

  “Listen, if you don’t go for it with him, then I will.” She laughed. “He’s very sweet and totally hot.”

  “Hey!” I snapped. “Don’t get any funny ideas. Don’t steal him.”

  “I don’t think I could steal him if I tried,” said Leah. “He’s only got eyes for you, superstar. What do you think?”

  “I’m thinking all sorts of things,” I said. “I’m imagining us going out on tour together. Him and I taking over the south and the east coast, making our first album together, picking out tiles for the kitchen—”

  “Damn girl, slow down,” said Leah.

  “I can’t help it. I want him,” I whined. “Give me advice. Let me ask it this way.”

  “Shoot.”

  “If I weren’t planning on being with Darren,” I began. “Do you think I should consider moving? Now that things are going well, should I?”

  “Do you want to know what I think as your friend or your manager?”

  “Both,” I requested.

  “I think staying in Tennessee isn’t a bad idea,” said Leah. “I’d lean more toward Nashville. The music scene there is here to the third power. Things are a bit more expensive out there, but it won’t be that bad. I’ll work for free for a week or two if needed. I’ve needed to look for a second job, anyway.”

  “Leah,” I said, feeling as though I could cry at any minute.

  “If you want what I would do, on the other hand,” Leah continued. “If I were you, I might move to one of the big places: New York, Atlanta, Orlando, Los Angeles. Shit, even Portland is getting a music scene and growing artists. Personally, I think even though we’re not in a bad place for music, we’ve gotten most of what we can from Memphis.”

  “That makes us sound like parasites,” I said and laughed. “I don’t just live here because I
want to network or meet people to help my career. I do like it here.”

  “I know,” she said. “But, you know what happens with a career like the one you want. You move around a lot. Maybe moving somewhere else would be best for you right now. Where that place is? I think only you know that answer.”

  The lady filing my pinky looked like she wanted to interject, but she withheld.

  “I think New York would be too expensive right now,” I said. “I could live in Jersey, which is cheaper and close enough to the city.”

  “You’re not living in Jersey, fuck that,” dismissed Leah. “What about Atlanta? I know you say it’s not ideal.”

  “I have to give it a veto,” I said. “Nothing in Georgia.”

  “What about Florida? Orlando?”

  “No way,” I dismissed. “Cutthroat business tactics in Florida would probably be to actually cut someone’s throat. I’m not sure about much else in the south.”

  “L.A. is expensive, but depending on where you live, it could get cheaper,” she said. “I’ve got a friend in Koreatown, downtown L.A., that pays only about fifty bucks more a month to live in a place exactly the same size as mine. The west coast might be fun, you never know.”

  “Can you believe Darren came here to see me?” I said. “I wish I’d been here. I would’ve died if I’d seen him walking into the studio to say he loves me.”

  “Just wait until you see the gift he left for you,” said Leah.

  “A gift? What gift?”

  “The thing I was going to show you before we went out,” she reminded me. “Darren has a gift he wants me to give you.”

  “Where is it?” I asked frantically. “He left me something, and you didn’t show me! Why didn’t you give it to me before?”

  “Because I don’t think you’re ready for it.” She laughed. “Be prepared to lose it.”

  We headed back to the studio after our nail session. She kept being cryptic about what Darren had left for me. What drove me crazy was that I had no fathomable idea of what it was. I just wanted to see the gift, and go. I was ready to return to the arms of the man I’d dreamed of for so long.

  We went into the recording booth. She pulled out a memory card and showed it to me before she put it into the computer by the console.

  “His gift is on this memory card,” explained Leah. “He made it here in the studio. I’ll stay if you want, but I think you might want privacy.”

  I looked on the computer screen and at the contents of the memory card. There was only one folder on it, which I clicked on.

  It was an audio file titled “Tennessee Sweet.” I didn’t have to open it to know what was inside. I looked over at Leah, who shot a knowing grin at me.

  “I’ll go outside and make a couple of phone calls,” said Leah. She made her exit, quickly and with purpose.

  I sat down in the computer chair with all my weight. I didn’t know what exactly to expect, but I knew that it would likely be a journey for my senses, and I needed to be sitting to brace for it.

  I don’t know why I expected to hear him say some kind of introduction, but I was surprised to be hearing music from the second I clicked on the audio file. From the sound alone, I knew that it was coming from Darren’s guitar; and, from the style of playing, I knew the performer was Darren. There were no words or lyrics at first, only an acoustic guitar telling the story of a boy and a girl.

  I got so caught up in the instrumental that I hadn’t realized how long it had gone for. Three minutes had passed, and then the style and tempo of the piece morphed into something faster, almost like a pop song.

  Once I heard Darren’s voice, I could barely take in the lyrics. Hearing him genuinely, passionately sing a song of his own creation was a joy I’d long been deprived of. Knowing that his song was for me made me feel something out of this world.

  Despite the song lasting for an unorthodox seven and a half minutes, I was still disappointed when it came to an end. I was beyond overwhelmed.

  I immediately clicked on it again, letting it replay for me to hear. I wanted to catch more than I was able to the first time. I wanted to learn the lyrics.

  For the first time in a while, I knew exactly what I wanted to do and was going to have a fun time seeing it through.

  Chapter 35

  Darren

  Each day felt like a week. I was counting minutes in the hour, and I was constantly checking my phone, hoping I would receive something from Bailey.

  I went to work Thursday, and of course, there were hardly any appointments all day. Once I arrived home, I kept playing music; sometimes I played from inspiration, sometimes it was just to get better. I wanted to get back to the level I used to be on.

  I got to work on Friday, and of course, melodies and choruses were coming to my head faster than they had all week. When I wasn’t thinking about how much I wanted to be with my guitar and keyboard, I was thinking about Bailey.

  Repeatedly, I wondered how she had reacted to the song I made for her. I worried that Leah might not have given the memory card to her, but somehow, I knew she was going to follow through on her promise to me. I had made the song as a declaration of my feelings about her, so I was more concerned with how she took the message. But, there was a part of me that hoped she liked the song on a creative level, too.

  Garrett and I worked on autopilot on Friday, ready for the weekend to come and save us from the drawn-out days. Garrett occasionally suggested that we both go out drinking together, but I was against it. My mind was only able to fasten onto one fixed point: Bailey Wright.

  As our shifts were nearing their ends, Garrett and I found ourselves chilling in the lobby watching sports on the TV.

  “So, did I tell you about the date I’m going on Saturday?” he asked me.

  “Hell no, you didn’t!” I answered. “Who you going out with?”

  “Her name’s Wendy,” he said. “She’s cute, really short, really funny, though. You know how most girls ain’t really actually funny? This girl is pretty goddamn funny, bro. You should meet her.”

  “Dang, you trying to set me up with her or what?” I laughed.

  “Hell no, what are you talking about?” he said. “Besides, what happened to spending eternity with your singer-songwriter high school sweetheart.”

  “She’s more than a high school one,” I said. “She’s been around since before high school. It’s always been her.”

  “You miss her, don’t you?”

  “Of course, I do,” I said. “I want her so damn bad, but the longer I go not hearing from her, the more I think it’s over.”

  “Why don’t you call her, dumbass?”

  “Because that’d be too easy. She and I have never done things easy. It’s always complicated, and we never just say how we really feel or what we really want.”

  We clocked out and walked to his car together.

  “We really should go have some drinks,” Garrett repeated.

  “You’re pretty damn adamant, aren’t you?” I said as I cleared things off the passenger seat in his car.

  “So, that’s a yes?”

  “No,” I repeated. “Garrett, man, I’m not really in the mood. I’m declining.”

  “It’s Friday night,” he said again as if I didn’t know. “What’re you going to do?”

  “Not go out and drink,” I said, closing the door and buckling my seatbelt.

  “We haven’t gone drinking in a while,” he said.

  “Yeah, in like two days!” I laughed. “Go out drinking with that girl Wendy.”

  “Nah, I tried to see if she could hang, but she said she was only free this weekend,” he said. “Believe me, I tried. She’s super cool.”

  “If you want to drink, let’s just grab some beers and kick back at my house?” I suggested. “We’ll play darts.”

  “I’m not losing more money to you again, asshole,” he retorted as he started the car and took us onto the road.

  “Just take me home, driver,” I quipped.


  “Or, let’s go to the bar, and I’ll buy us enough shots to make you beyond wasted,” he urged. “Or, one beer if you’d rather take it easy tonight.”

  “Why are you determined to get me liquored up, Newton?” I wondered. “What’s your plot here?”

  “I know if you go with me tonight, you’ll have one of the best nights of your life,” said Garrett with a serious face. “I swear on my sister’s life that you will thank me for taking you out before we’re even drunk. What do you say?”

  I still didn’t want to go out, but I succumbed and agreed to go out with him. His persistence had paid off, and I was ready to be proven wrong or right and either was fine by me.

  I should have known that something peculiar was going on from Garrett’s constant badgering, but I was sure something was up once I knew where we were going.

  We weren’t going to any of the two or three usual places we went to. He took us over to a bar called The Shoreman Stage & Bar, a place that often drew a more country crowd. People would drink, eat seafood, and sing songs with performers on the stage—if there were any performers. The place was just outside of Rome, and I’d passed by it many times, but never went in.

  Garrett got us there in good time, but it took us a while to park. The place was active, but not packed yet. The food smelled good, and the alcohol looked delicious. I headed for the bar, but Garrett shooed me away.

  “Go get a seat near the front of the stage!” he called to me. “I’ll get us beer and shots! And water!”

  I obeyed his request, finding the closest seat to the center of the stage. There were only a few people seated near me, and it was difficult to see their entire figures in the dimness of the light near the stage. There was music playing over the sound system of the bar, but it was low. The stage was set up, with a microphone and amps on and a keyboard and guitar stand by a chair. Beside the chair was a music stand, and a half-filled bottle of water resting on it. I briefly imagined what it would be like if I were sitting up there. I hadn’t played for a small crowd in years.