Liner Notes

by Madden, A. M.

  “Shit.”

  Liam clamped a hand on my shoulder. “There is so much money out here, it’s sick.”

  “No kidding,” I said, taking in the modern structure that occupied a decent chunk of beach. Once the driver stopped the car, I couldn’t help but suppress a smile when Liam swiped his credit card through the reader to pay for the ride. He always assumed I struggled financially. Meanwhile, I probably had more saved than he did. I was a simple man.

  We stepped out to hear voices, laughter, and music filtering out toward us as we gawked at Blake’s beach mansion, all glass and concrete. It stood three levels tall and looked more like a fishbowl than a house.

  “This is insane.”

  “This is my goal.” He grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to stare at his grinning face. “I have no problem getting rich off the rich. That means you too. Once you make it big, promise you’ll buy your first house through me.”

  “Yeah, yeah… I promise.” Wanting to get this party started, I headed for the stone path that led to the back of the house, with Liam close behind. There had to be at least a hundred guests milling around on the multitiered deck and spilling onto the beach beyond it.

  An infinity pool and attached hot tub, two full-service bars, volleyball, and a DJ pumping out music made for quite the adult playground. I wasn’t one to get starstruck, but I had to appreciate the many familiar faces in attendance.

  “What’s the occasion for this party?” I asked, taking it all in.

  “It’s Saturday?” Liam raised his brows when I cut my eyes to him. “Glad I wore my swimsuit, though.” He nodded toward a hottie as she stepped into the pool. She wore a bubblegum-pink G-string bikini that left no doubt her boobs were fake and her ass was real. “I think I’m in love.” Just as he said that, the woman swam straight into the arms of a dude right out of an Abercrombie ad and started sucking face with him.

  “Tough break.”

  “Eh, there’s plenty more for the picking.”

  That was another difference between Liam and me. I was never into quick hookups… not in high school, or even college. I wasn’t saying I didn’t have my fair share of sex, but most of the time if I was attracted to a girl the sex was a result of getting to know her a bit. I needed the allure, the attraction, as foreplay. Nothing turned me off more than seeing a beautiful woman, only to have the conversation filled with “like” or “you know” or “awesome.”

  Yeah, no thanks.

  “Let’s get a drink,” Liam said, his eyes following a cute blonde as she walked by.

  We made our way toward the closest bar, passing guests in varying degrees of undress and soberness on the way. The distinct aroma of pot hung in the air. The culprit animatedly told a story to a few others with the joint flailing around with his hands.

  “That smells amazing,” Liam muttered close to my ear. I could seriously use a hit myself, but smoking in public made me paranoid. Occasionally, I preferred to get high in my own apartment. There was a time when it was a daily occurrence until song lyrics weren’t coming to mind as easily as they used to, so I cut back big time.

  While we waited for the bartender to finish mixing a cocktail, I stared at the ocean, appreciating the Zen.

  “What can I get you guys?” he finally asked with a smile.

  “I’ll have a Stella,” Liam responded. Before I could answer as well, I was frozen by the dipping of an auburn ponytail as the beauty it belonged to laughed.

  Chapter 4

  Cannon

  “Dude?” The bartender waited expectantly, and I pointed to Liam’s beer. “Here you go.” He slid a fresh Stella toward me, while I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

  She was so very different from all the other girls loitering around that she actually stood out. Her short summery dress accented every stunning part of her, from her smooth, tanned shoulders to her lean legs. Even her ankles looked sexy, with the thin leather strap of her wedged sandals circling them.

  She held what looked like a martini, her attention riveted on the man speaking. When she lifted the speared olives toward her mouth, the man paused and stared at the way she bit around one of them on the toothpick and dragged the olive between her teeth.

  “Oh, there’s Blake.” I cut to Liam for a split second before zoning back in on her. “Come meet him. He’s cool.”

  “Where?”

  “With the older dude talking to the smoking-hot redhead.”

  I shook my head on a sigh. Of… fucking… course.

  “Shit, look at her. I think I’m in love again,” Liam continued to ramble, and I wanted to clock him. My combined silence and gawking finally caught his attention. He stepped into my line of sight and smirked. “Am I going to have to fight you for her? Because I will.”

  “Cut the shit. That’s her.”

  “Who her?” He scanned the deck where she stood.

  “My new agent.”

  “The one glaring at you like she wants to cut your nuts off?”

  “Yeah, that one.”

  Liam twisted his head back to me so fast, it looked like it would’ve hurt. “You’re shitting me.”

  “Nope. I’m not shitting you.”

  “She’s got that hot angry thing going that instantly hardens a cock. Damn, man. You’re in big trouble.” The more he ogled her, the more pissed off I became. And then, as if it had all clicked in his mind, he grinned and shoved at me with his free hand. “That’s why you were ragging this morning. You have the hots for your agent!”

  “Lower your voice,” I hissed. “And I don’t have the hots for her.”

  “Liar. Look at you.” He motioned toward my free hand, clenched tightly into a fist at my side. “You’re all wound up. Well, fuck you very much for telling your best friend. Since when do we have secrets?”

  I gave him an annoyed side-eye while taking a long drag of my beer. Without warning, he began walking toward the trio, and my ire turned to panic. I trusted Liam as far as I could throw him.

  His body jerked when I got a fistful of his polo shirt and tugged. “The fuck?”

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  The grin on his face as he pushed the hair off his forehead meant trouble. “I’m going to say hi to Blake. Are you coming? Or are you going to stand here with your hard-on?”

  “One word about this, and I’ll flatten you.” He glanced up over my head as if contemplating whether it’d be worth it. “Liam.”

  “Relax. I’ll play dumb.”

  I followed close behind until we reached them. Just as Liam greeted Blake, Lori’s eyes landed on me once again.

  “Blake, this is my buddy, Cannon Davis.” Liam started the introductions, waiting for Blake and me to exchange a handshake. “I’m Liam Moore,” he then said to the older gentleman and Lori with a dorky wave.

  “Dad, this is my real estate agent… the guy who miraculously sold that dump in Manhattan Beach. Liam, this is my dad, Oliver.”

  My friend lunged a stiff arm toward him. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Steiner.”

  “Good job on that sale, son.” As the George Clooney wannabe shook my overeager friend’s hand with a tight smile, Liam looked like he was about to piss himself.

  Meanwhile, Blake moved closer to Lori and placed his hand on her bare back. “This is Lori Banzini. She’s a friend of a friend.”

  The entire time our gazes never wavered, until she assessed Liam. “Liam. It’s nice to meet you.” She then shifted her cool gaze back to mine and added, “But I already know Cannon.”

  All eyes landed on me, expecting an explanation. “Lori’s my agent.”

  “Ah, he’s the new talent you found,” Blake said with an all-knowing grin, and all I could think was if he didn’t remove his hand from her back it would have to be surgically removed from his own ass when I was done with him. “Cat’s out of the bag now, Lor.”

  “Apparently.” She lifted her cocktail, sipping it through the curve of her lips. My eyes fixated on the way her slender neck worked a swall
ow.

  Liam and Blake excused themselves, leaving me alone with Lori and the rich asshole who had pretension oozing off every part of him.

  Oliver stretched an arm across the space toward me. “Oliver Steiner.” Accepting his hand, I shook it while he measured up my faded jeans and T-shirt. “Louis Vassler is a great friend,” he said once he’d released me. “He’s also a hard-ass in the music industry. You ready for this?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You seem young. Twenty-five?”

  The condescending tone caused my jaw to clench. I waited a pause before responding. “Twenty-three.”

  “Very young.” He briefly glanced down into the crystal tumbler he drank from. “Make sure that Texan doesn’t wear you down. He can be a cheap bastard.”

  “Oliver.”

  Lori’s reprimand was met with a chuckle. He flashed a brilliant smile filled with glow-in-the-dark white teeth, whiter than the polo shirt he wore. “Although, having this spitfire on your side will be your saving grace.”

  “You’re nothing but a charmer,” she said to him, waving a hand in dismissal. Her gaze shifted back to me, but his remained tethered to her. I watched as he made a salacious scan down her body, and I had to force every muscle into lockdown to keep from shoving his country-club ass into the pool behind him.

  “Oliver!” someone called from the other side of the patio, and he lifted his hand in acknowledgment. “Seems I’m being summoned. It was nice to meet you, Cannon.” Slowly, he pulled Lori into his hold and said loud enough for me to hear, “In case we don’t cross paths, I’ll pick you up at one tomorrow.”

  She stared at me over his shoulder. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Once he had put enough distance between us, I tilted the nose of my bottle toward her. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” I said before taking a sip.

  “Blake’s wife knows Jen Baxter.” The blank look on my face forced her to add, “My boss… and soon to be yours, too. She introduced us when I arrived in LA, couldn’t make it today, and asked me to go in her place.”

  So, Douche Junior was married. Wondering about Douche Senior, I pathetically said, “Looks like a younger version of his dad.”

  Lori’s eyes flittered toward Oliver briefly. “Yes, he does.” She drained the rest of her drink, not taking the bait… not enlightening me as to why a fifty-something-year-old gazillionaire was picking her up the next day.

  Was this new?

  Were they a thing?

  Deciding to change the subject, I said, “I read through the contract. I also read up on LRV Media.” As well as a shit ton of facts revolving around your love life. “Seems pretty standard.” Not that I would know what standard was.

  “It is. The recording time frame might be a bit shorter than normal. But Mr. Vassler feels with your extensive library of songs, you could probably hit the studio fairly quickly to get out on tour sooner than later.”

  The thought of touring sent a surge of adrenaline through me, as well as a ton of questions. But this wasn’t the time or the place. “I do have some concerns,” I admitted as a possible plan popped into my head. “Maybe we can meet for dinner to discuss them.”

  “Sure. I’m free next week. I can work around your schedule.” Her slim fingers toyed with the stem of her empty martini glass as an awkward silence stretched. “Well, I need to use the ladies’ room. Text my cell once you know what night is good for you. Have fun.”

  “Yeah, you too.” She placed her empty glass on a nearby table and sauntered off toward the house, her ponytail swinging behind her in tempo with the sway of her ass.

  I had no idea what time it was, or how long I had sat on my ass while staring at the ocean. After running into Lori, I had snatched a bottle of bourbon when the bartender wasn’t paying attention and headed for the beach.

  I wasn’t the type to be intimidated, yet the woman had me feeling like I was a clueless kid. Why the fuck did my confidence disappear whenever she was around? She was just a chick… albeit one who was about to own my ass, for lack of a better explanation.

  My head pounded from the high bass of the music, or maybe it was the alcohol I’d unintentionally consumed. The bottle beside me was now a considerate amount less than it had been. Lost in thought, I spent most of the time analyzing if I really wanted this, wanted part of the kind of world that had girls barely above legal age hanging out with men who were old enough to be their fathers.

  Did I want in on a world where the price of a watch could feed a small country? Where a crocodile smile had little to do with the one logoed on their polo shirts?

  No, I didn’t.

  I just wanted to play my music and make enough money to support my mom, help my sisters, live without worry.

  What went on a few hundred feet away wasn’t me.

  From the noise that still echoed from the house, it didn’t sound like the party had died down at all. If anything, it sounded like it had multiplied in size.

  With a moan I stretched before standing and fished out my phone. Thankful it was only around five, I still had plenty of time before I played tonight. Wanting away from so much phony pretense prompted the desire to get the hell home and get to Hops and Soul, where the people who came to see me were real.

  I shot off a text to Liam.

  Where are you? I’m ready to leave

  Leaving the bottle where it was, I brushed off the sand before heading toward the house. By the time I got back on the deck, as suspected, a new mob of people had arrived since I’d disappeared. I looked for the mop of blond wavy hair among the sea of heads, but with no luck. Thankfully, Red wasn’t in sight either.

  Trying one last time, I typed:

  Dude?

  Needing to take a piss, I’d give him five minutes to reveal himself. Otherwise I’d leave him there. The more I walked, the more I realized I had a serious buzz going. I looked forward to taking a shower at home, maybe a short nap, and spending my night in my own element.

  The house was right out of an episode of MTV Cribs. People partying and drinking on Steiner’s dime made me feel sick. They probably knew him as well as I did. Finally, having found a bathroom after opening half a dozen doors, I did what I needed to do.

  Back in the hallway, I checked my phone—and still no response from Liam. “Fuck him,” I said to no one and headed for the front door.

  I was so busy fiddling with the app to call a cab that the step down onto the porch caught me off guard and had me stumbling a few times before catching my balance.

  “Whoa, Cannon. Be careful.” A grumble I couldn’t suppress escaped at hearing that sultry voice. “You drunk?”

  Sure as shit, there she stood when I turned around, looking all supermodel and smug. “No, I’m not.”

  “You stumbled your way through the backyard.”

  “You followed me?” She remained impassive as I scowled. “Jesus, you’re my agent, not my babysitter.” With every word, I knew I gave her shit, but it didn’t stop me from giving her more. “Actually, you’re not even my agent. I didn’t sign anything yet.”

  Acting like the child I suspected she thought of me, I stomped down the stairs, looking from side to side as if I had lost something.

  After a full minute passed, I gave in to curiosity and turned to see if she had left. There she remained, complete with folded arms and a scolding expression. “Why don’t I drive you home and you can sleep it off.”

  “I’m not drunk. And I’m calling a cab.”

  “Fine. You’re not drunk.” Undeterred, she closed the distance and gripped my arm. “But I’m driving you home anyway.”

  Chapter 5

  Lori

  After the valet delivered my car, I slipped the man a five and stopped when I noticed Cannon still standing defiantly a few feet away. “Get in.”

  He looked like he was ready to argue, but something had him thinking better of it as he took the distance in two large strides, opened the passenger door, and slid his tall frame into the front sea
t.

  “Nice drive,” he muttered when I got in on my side.

  “Thanks.” The BMW had been one of the perks LRV had gifted me with. Black two-door sports car, condo in Los Angeles, and an expense account to be used whenever I conducted business. Not too shabby for a chick from Jersey. But having him sitting beside me made me self-conscious, and I felt the need to further explain. “Leased by the label.”

  A quick bob of his head was the response I received.

  “What’s your address?” I punched it into the navigation as he recited it robotically. Something had him acting grumpy, and I wasn’t sure if it had to do with me or not. He’d seemed in good spirits when he’d arrived, strolling into the party without a care in the world. I’d watched as every female eye-fucked him, and it wasn’t because he stuck out like a sore thumb in his faded jeans, T-shirt, and Chucks.

  Cannon Davis was the epitome of cool… and my worst nightmare.

  Shifting into gear, I peeled out of the driveway while trying to ignore the way his clean scent mixed intoxicatingly with the leather interior. My playlist automatically kicked on, picking up one of Devil’s Lair’s latest hits. He said nothing while staring out the window, brooding in a way that felt all too familiar to me. And I did my damnedest to ignore why thinking of him angry was a turn-on.

  Jesus Christ, why was I constantly subjected to such torture? Either I had to have been a terrible person in a past life to bring me so much challenge in this one, or… I was a masochist.

  What doesn’t kill you will make you stronger—my ass.

  Shortly after he and I first saw each other at the party, he’d disappeared, making me think he had left or found someone to hook up with. But when he’d emerged from the beach alone, swaying with each step he took, I couldn’t stop myself from tracking him all the way into the house.

  Knowing his friend was busy getting acquainted with one of Blake’s secretaries, I’d followed Cannon. And I was glad I had, because the man who sat beside me now was a hell of a lot different than the man who had walked into the party.