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“You are, but Boss isn’t in.”
I wasn’t surprised.
“Can you call him?” I asked.
I had no way to get in touch with him. Not wanting my whereabouts traced, I’d left the phone that the band had been paying for on Collin’s bed. Plus, I wasn’t ABCR’s manager anymore. They didn’t need me to be. RDA would take care of their needs, or I hoped they would.
“Sure I can.” The guard narrowed his eyes. “But why should I?”
“He would want you to call. He offered me a job, and I’ve thought it over. I’m here to discuss terms.”
I lifted my chin, ignoring Rachel’s sharp inhale. None of it had felt quite real until now. But this was it, the final cut to separate me from the life I’d had before.
“Step back then.” He jerked his chin toward a spot behind us. “I’ll call him.”
Rachel snagged my arm and tugged me backward. My ears were ringing, and the rest of me had gone weirdly numb as we waited for the guard to complete the call.
After returning his phone to his pocket, the guard opened the door and gestured. “Boss is in the area. You can go in now and wait outside his office. He should arrive shortly.”
“Thank you,” Rachel said politely, but I just nodded.
Inside, the club’s basement was eerily silent. Dark and empty, it mirrored my mood. If not for Rachel beside me, I might have chickened out.
“You really think he’ll let us live down here?” she whispered, her eyes growing large.
“I’m counting on it,” I said, my eyes as round as hers.
I was terrified, and I didn’t have a plan B.
Iknew when Martin arrived, could feel the chill of him before he came into sight.
“In my office,” he said tersely without breaking stride, his bodyguard in lockstep beside him. “Now.”
“Yes, of course.”
I exchanged a nervous glance with Rachel. She’d waited beside me on the uncomfortable wooden bench outside his office. My earlier numbness replaced by trepidation, I rose to follow him, but Rachel grabbed my hand.
“Don’t do this,” she said softly, her rosy lips twisted with distaste. “There’s something off about that man.”
“I know.”
“Miss Footit,” Martin barked, startling me. “Now, if you please. My patience is wearing thin.”
“Sorry. I’m coming.” Squeezing my sister’s hand, I gave her a firm look. “It’ll be okay.”
Unlikely, at least in the short term, but I could pretend for her.
Firming my shoulders, I tugged down my faded Brutal Strength tee and marched into Martin’s office. The Doc Martens I wore, an early birthday gift from his sister, were silent on the hardwoods. The room was windowless and seemed soundproof.
From behind his desk, he gave me a head-to-toe scan. “Close the door.”
“All right.”
He won’t hurt me. I’m Miranda’s friend. If I get into trouble because of him, she would help me. Wouldn’t she?
Not knowing the answer, I closed the door and turned around.
“Sit down.” Martin gestured to the ornate chairs with curved arms, snarling faces of beasts carved into the wood.
