Broken Records

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Broken Records Page 21

by Cassie Mae


  It wasn’t until I was outside that I realized I had no way home. Luckily, Reg caught up to me and offered up a ride. I didn’t want to go home. My couch, which never bothered me, now seemed pathetic and lonely. So I had Reg drop me off at the coffee shop.

  Jimmy knew something was wrong the minute I walked in, but after saying I didn’t want to talk about it a million times, he finally let it go.

  Now holed up in the coffee shop, I’m doing my best not to let the heartache pour out of my eyes. I figure if I’m surrounded by people, I’ll be able to hold the tears at bay.

  Ethan’s words bounce around in my head. I wasn’t using him to ignore my own issues. Those issues I left back in New York. I couldn’t help that they followed me to California. Even still, that life and Ethan didn’t even exist in the same universe. He’s so very wrong about the whole thing, but I knew, just by looking at him that no matter what I said, no matter how much of my heart I laid out on the table, he wouldn’t care. He couldn’t see past his own anger.

  It’s not my fault that he saw something in me that is so far from the truth, which makes my heart hurt even more. While I have fallen completely in love with Ethan Davis, he doesn’t even know me at all. Every moment between us was real. He brings something out of me that makes the passion shine bright. Makes me push past the bitterness and pain I’ve harbored for so long. He pumped life back into me, and now he sucked it right back out because he thinks all along I pretended to be someone I’m not.

  It’s just…he brings out the girl in me that always stayed dormant, too afraid to rear her sassy head. Every moment. Every encounter. Every conversation. Every kiss. Every caress… has been one hundred percent me.

  I swipe at a rogue tear and grab for my iced coffee. The straw is torn to shreds as I bit out my frustration on it earlier. I manage to get some liquid through the numerous holes and slouch back into my chair.

  I keep staring at the door like Ethan will show up. Like he’ll know exactly where to find me and come running to apologize for being such a jerk. He never does, and I hate that I hold out hope that he will.

  The AC kicks up, and I pull my sweater tight, getting a whiff of his cologne on the material of my shirt. I close my eyes, fighting the rush of emotion, but all that does is remind me of his fingers lacing with mine. The heat of his body wrapping around me like a warm blanket. The way we moved together as if we were one. The warmth of his breath skating across my skin as he leaned in to press his lips to mine.

  Dammit. Dammit all to hell.

  I pop my eyes open, refusing to relive one of the best moments of my life since it was followed by one of the worst.

  I always thought the day I lost my high school sweetheart, my best friend, my apartment, and my career was the worst day of my life. But I don’t even care about that any more. A year later, I realize it was the best thing that ever happened to me.

  But I’ll never forget that look in Ethan’s eyes. It reached into my chest and grabbed my heart, squeezing it until there was nothing left. I watched the wall he had built around his heart rise again, blocking me out.

  He’s not coming, and I need to stop playing the pathetic sap who thinks he will. I’m not that girl anymore.

  “You okay?” Jimmy asks, slipping into the chair across from me and crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Define okay?”

  “Well, by the glassy look in your eyes, the constant biting of your lip ring, and the mutilated straw, I’d say it is not you.”

  “Then you’d guess right.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  I cock my head at him since we had this conversation at least a hundred times already. “What do you think?”

  He reaches behind him and grabs a plate of cookies from the counter and places them in front of me. “I think you need a friend, but it’s been so long since you opened up to anyone you forgot how.”

  “Modern day Einstein right here,” I joke, swiping a cookie and taking a bite, hoping the chocolate will soothe the ache.

  “Please. I have much better hair than Einstein.”

  A smile tugs at my lips for the first time in hours. “I have to give you that.”

  “So what happened?”

  I look at him skeptically. He’s right. It’s been so long since I’ve opened up to anyone I’m not exactly sure where to start. How much is too much?

  “Whatever you say, I won’t judge you,” he says, holding one hand up and the other over his heart.

  I laugh. “It’s not that.” I’ve been fighting the tears for so long. What if I start talking, and they won’t stop? What if I flood out the coffee shop, and Jimmy loses his job because the damage is too extensive? Knowing I’m being ridiculous, I take a deep breath and tell him everything that I just told Ethan, but this time I start from the beginning. I tell him about how I walked in on the two people I love most in the world loving each other in the most intimate way. How I used to be a YouTube sensation by the name of Minka Scott. How I was the one who wrote the songs and for the most part sang them all even though Ruby always tried to sing over me. I tell him about fleeing New York and going back to my real name, dying my hair, and starting fresh. I tell him about the internship and how I just want to find new talent and help them through the music business so they don’t make the same mistakes as me. I tell him about Mr. Fancy Tie and how he transformed into Ethan Davis before my eyes. And I tell him how I have completely fallen in love with my boss.

  I put it all out there. I throw everything on the table and with each confession, I feel the weight on my shoulders lift. The pressure on my chest eases. The tension in my neck fades. I was so used to being closed off that I forgot how it felt to talk. To have someone listen.

  When I finish, I sigh in relief, relish in the new found peace.

  “Damn,” Jimmy says. “Who needs soap operas when I have you?”

  I laugh despite myself because you seriously can’t make this shit up. And then as if hidden cameras are set up, the bell above the door dings and in walks the two people I despise most in the world.

  Kevin’s hand is on the small of Ruby’s back as he ushers her in, a gesture he used on me all the years we were together.

  “Oh shit,” I mumble.

  Jimmy’s eyes narrow as he stares at me across the table.

  “Speak of the devils,” I mutter.

  He turns toward the register where Ruby taps the toe of her five-inch heels impatiently waiting to be helped. Her pink wig is big and ridiculous and matches the fluff of a dress she’s wearing. She looks like a cotton candy machine malfunctioned on her.

  Jimmy’s eyes widen and fill with something that looks too much like delight. “Don’t tell me.”

  “Yup.”

  “This just keeps getting better and better.”

  “Oh yes, please go grab your popcorn.”

  “Hello! Does anyone work here?” Ruby snaps.

  “I plan on it. After I serve her.” Jimmy laughs as he walks away, and I sink back into my chair.

  I can’t help but watch as they place their order. Ruby stands like the sun rises and sets with her. That the stars and moon belong to her and her alone. And Kevin. I expect to feel some pang of regret. An ounce of heartache for the five years of my life I was with him. But I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’m not even mad anymore or bitter. I’m just over it.

  I ran away from my past and never confronted it. But with Kevin and Rebecca here in California, I finally had to face it head on. Somewhere along the way I stopped caring about them being here. About what they did to me, and I owe that all to Ethan. He might hate me right now, but he gave me the chance to love again. To prove to myself that I was capable of it. Knowing that makes the power that these two held over me vanish. They might have hurt me, but they didn’t destroy me.

  Kevin turns and catches my eyes. A sly smile forms on his face. “Look who it is, kitten,” Kevin says to Ruby, and my insides twist into a sickening knot. I might be over it, but that was my ni
ckname. How could he call her that? No. You know what? I don’t care. I am so far beyond caring. She can have my sloppy seconds.

  Ruby shoots daggers in my direction, and I force a smile, refusing to roll over like they expect me to.

  “Hi there,” I say all sugary sweet, adding a wave to the mix.

  Kevin walks over, and Ruby rolls her eyes.

  “Wouldn’t expect to see you here,” Kevin says,

  “Why not? It’s a coffee shop.”

  “Figured you’d have things to do.” He emphasizes the word do for some reason, but I write it off as a hiccup. Ruby snickers beside him, and I narrow my eyes at her.

  “Kevin, let’s go. I don’t feel like wasting my time here.”

  “Like you waste our time in the studio because you can’t hit a single note.” I don’t know where the words come from. They just stream out in a rush before I have a chance to stop them.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Ruby demands, and Kevin takes it as his chance to walk away and grab the coffees that Jimmy just placed on the counter.

  “You heard me.”

  “Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyway. You’re a nobody.”

  Anger builds, flowing through me like lava. All the years I was a doormat to her, letting her tell me what I should and shouldn’t be doing. What I should wear and how I should act. All the years she pretended to be my friend meanwhile she was just a lying, conniving bitch who stole my boyfriend and my career. She stole everything from me. I helped make her who she is today. Without me… “And you would be too if it wasn’t for me. Those are my songs, and you know it.”

  She tilts her head up in defiance. Her pointy nose, aiming high for the sky. “Prove it.”

  “She can’t,” Kevin adds, coming over with the two cups of coffee. I want to smack the smugness out of him.

  “Besides, no one is going to believe a girl who is sleeping her way up the ladder.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Ruby looks at her nails as if looking at me is beneath her. Finally, she blinks her long pink glitter lashes up at me. “Have to say… sleeping with the boss? Didn’t think you had it in you.”

  She’s bluffing. Completely making it up because she knows the truth, and she has no other way out of it.

  “I’m not,” I state.

  “Really? Maybe you should check the news. Broken Records has been making headlines a lot lately. Maybe it’s time I took my talent elsewhere. To a label that isn’t seconds away from destruction.”

  I ignore the rest of her rant and reach for my phone. My finger taps on the Internet icon faster than I can focus on it. Quickly, I type in the local news page, and my heart stops. The coffee shop suddenly seems smaller, and it’s impossible to get any air into my lungs.

  “That’s what I thought,” Ruby spits and clicks away with Kevin closely behind.

  I don’t watch her go. I can’t tear my eyes away from the headline that I know will haunt my dreams and possibly ruin Ethan and maybe even the label.

  Ethan Davis, CEO of Broken Records, Secret Affair with an Intern Revealed.

  Twenty years ago, I stood in this very conference room, taking in the newness of the paint, the polished wood under my seven-year-old feet, and wrinkling my nose at my father’s choice in décor. I gazed up at him and my head tilted as I wondered why he was crying. At the time, I’d passed it off as a sign of disappointment—that maybe the dream of having his own office hadn’t lived up to the expectation. Over the years, I learned how misleading those tears were.

  I take my seat at the head of the table, a slight sense of unworthiness washing over me. I’d always assumed I wasn’t worth my father’s time, but I’d never felt like a disappointment until this very moment. He isn’t even here, but I feel him in the walls, in the faces of the people he worked with, in every note played in the studios. What would he say now? The cold, hard truth is that I didn’t know him well enough to come up with an answer to that question.

  Grant takes his place next to me, grunting as he squeezes into the seat. I watch him organize his papers in a daze while I consider returning all the missed calls on my phone. My mother is worried and opinionated. My old “buddies” from my party years are congratulating me for nailing an employee so soon after taking over the label. And Paige is unbearably silent.

  I grasp at my hair, sink into the protection of my arms, allowing myself a small moment of weakness before I have to sack up. I was never prepared to take things head on. The solution was always to throw money at the problem and wait for it to blow over. The only person who showed me the alternative isn’t speaking to me, not that I blame her. I’ve not only put myself in this media frenzy, I’ve dragged her in as well. The timing couldn’t have been worse. A week ago, there was a good possibility of putting rumors to rest by either sweeping it under the rug or reassuring any interested parties that Paige is much more than an intern looking to get ahead. But after our last conversation, the courage to speak out on the mess is smothered by feelings of regret, guilt, and heartache.

  And—I hate to admit—suspicion. Would Paige have used me to get ahead? My reputation as a carefree idiot would make me an easy target, and now that I’m so unsure of who she really is, I can’t help but wonder if that was really what was happening. If so, I’m stupider than I thought.

  “We’ll need to have them sign this agreement here,” Grant says, causing me to come out of hiding. “I’ve included a clause that requires them to prove ownership of all the songs on the list. So far, Caged in You is the only one you’re aware of, right?”

  I nod, forcing my mind to pay attention. It’s a funny feeling… realizing how much you actually have when you’re on the verge of losing it all.

  The clock ticks on the wall above my head, bringing my gaze to it as my lawyer dribbles legal jargon all around us. I nod, keeping my voice in a lock box I’ve been trained to use every time my face appears in a tabloid. It’s the closest I can come to disappearing without actually going anywhere.

  Suddenly, Grant rises from his seat, pulling me out of the autopilot I’m on. I push from my own chair, shaking Kevin’s hand, and my stomach churns as I tighten my grip, the back of my neck warming with just the thought that he’s hurt any version of the woman I’ve fallen in love with.

  “Ethan,” he says, amusement thick in his voice. He’s obviously enjoying the talk around his ex-girlfriend, and it makes the professionalism in my voice that much harder to maintain.

  “Kevin.” I drop his hand. “You know Grant Michaels, our label’s attorney.”

  “I am very happy to see you,” Kevin says with a grin. “It’s about time we negotiate a schedule for Ruby.”

  I bite a hole in my tongue as we all take our seats, half-ready to throw his ass straight out of my office.

  “There are a few changes from our last meeting,” Grant says, holding out the thick addendum we’ve added to the contract. “Everything has been tagged and highlighted.”

  Kevin’s brow pulls inward, and I wait with bated breath to see what sort of argument will come of this. His eyes connect with mine over the top of the page three.

  “I don’t see Caged in You on our list of recordings.”

  “Because we’re not recording it.” I sit up straight. “Broken Records has enough bad press without our newest artist using plagiarized material.”

  He drops the contract down with a thud against the conference table. “Excuse me?”

  Grant clears his throat, a vain attempt at reminding me to keep my cool. “It’s come to our attention that Caged in You is—”

  “Stolen,” I bite out.

  Grant gives me a look and rephrases my blunt verbiage. “It’s copy written.”

  Kevin leans back in his seat, cutting his glance to me. “That bitch tell you that?”

  My jaw locks tight, my teeth gritting against each other as I fly from my seat, my chair knocking against the back wall.

  “Another word like that about her, and I’ll personally escort you of
f the premises.”

  “Ethan…” Grant says.

  “Are we clear?”

  Kevin has the gall to laugh, bringing his hands up as if my reaction was an overreaction. “Ease up. I’m just saying, I’m not signing this shit if there’s no proof.” He slides the thick contract back at Grant. “Caged in You is the single Ruby and I planned for. And you want documentation of ownership for the rest of the songs on the album? Bullshit. We may as well go back to the vanity label.”

  Grant cuts a glare in my direction, silently begging me to fix it. I stay standing, crossing my arms over my chest to keep them from an assault charge.

  “You want to move from an international label back to a vanity one, be my guest.” I lean on the table, jabbing a finger at the contract. “But consider this for a moment… talent can be found all over the world. There are a million more artists out there who can slap on a wig and dance in front of a crowd. Chances to work with this type of label are few and far between, and with the press we’re getting, I can guarantee the next album we put out will get a lot of attention.”

  The surprising knowledge I find myself possessing boosts my confidence, and I push the contract back toward him.

  “Get us proof of intellectual ownership of those songs or go back to whatever the hell it was you were doing before my father noticed Ruby’s barely viewed karaoke videos.”

  Grant presses his lips together, brows rising at me. Kevin swivels in his chair, leaning it back and shaking his head.

  “There’s no way to prove those aren’t Ruby’s songs.” He laughs. “Pillow talk doesn’t count, my friend.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and even with the table between us, I’m half a second away from tackling him straight to the floor and giving him a bloody facelift.

  Halfway through my lunge, I’m forced to a stop, a wave of unfamiliar blonde hair grabbing my attention. I’m so taken aback by the sudden appearance of the extra person that I’m stunned into silence, breath stolen straight from my lungs as I take in the strong and bold look in a set of emerald eyes, piercing through a pair of thick framed glasses.

 

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