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"Yeah," I whisper, clearing my throat. "Um, can we skip Whiskey River and record Traces right now? It's ready to go, right?"
"Yeah, it's ready." Soren frowns like he isn't sure why I want to record it now instead of Whiskey River when that's what the label wants to hear next, but he wasn't at the bar last night. The crowd loved Traces. I think the label needs to hear it.
And I need to sing it again, just so I can remember the way Gideon looked at me while I was belting it out to him. That's what I want to think about when I remember last night. Not those damn photos hanging all over the dressing room. But the way he looked at me on that stage and the way I felt in his arms when we got home.
Those are the memories that matter. Those are the ones that will linger long into the future. The rest will wither and fade. Darkness always does.
Thirty minutes into recording, Soren cuts the backing track. I lift my gaze to the window overlooking to mixing booth to find John standing there, staring at me.
A shiver works its way through me.
He waves me out, his expression grim.
I set my headset aside and reluctantly exit the booth.
"Hey," he says, motioning for me to follow him into the lobby.
"Hey," I say, wrapping my arms around myself. "What's up?"
"We need to talk."
"I'm trying to record, John."
"Yeah, well, your little stunt on stage last night got back to the label," he says, his tone flat. "They aren't impressed. If you want to keep your contract, I suggest you keep your boyfriend off the stage, Kenz."
I narrow my eyes, immediately annoyed by the nickname and suspicious. "Did that come from the label…or from you?"
"What does that mean?"
"You know what it means, John," I say quietly. I resolved earlier not to have this conversation with him right away or alone, but I guess he's not going to leave me any choice. At least Soren and the band are in the next room. It's better than nothing.
"No, I really don't know what you mean, Kenna," he snaps, his blue eyes icy. "Why don't you spell it out for me so I can get on with my day? I have other clients to see."
"You were angry I called him up to the stage last night. It was written all over your face," I say.
"I was disappointed you were making a fool of yourself in public," he retorts. "Have a personal life. I don't care. But when you're selling a fantasy up there. You can't sell it if everyone thinks you're fucking the man you're parading around on stage, Kenz. They need to imagine themselves up there with you and in your bed, not him."
I rear back, shocked. "Don't speak to me that way."
"I'm your manager. It's my job to give it to you straight."
"You don't get an opinion on my sex life," I growl. "Especially not when we both know the only reason you chose to represent me is because you want to sleep with me. You want to imagine yourself in my bed."
"Oh, Kenna." He shakes his head, laughing. "Is that what you think? Good grief. Bring your head back down to reality. I'm not representing you because I want to sleep with you. I'm representing you because you're talented. You have the potential to be the next big star. You know this. I know this. The label knows this. But you aren't going to get there if you keep dragging your boyfriend onto the stage to flirt with him in front of everyone." He steps around me, heading for the door. "Do whatever you want on your time. But don't waste mine and don't waste the label's. Keep your boyfriend off the damn stage."
"It's not your time anymore, John. You're fired."
He laughs loudly, still striding toward the door. "If you want to fire me, take me to court, Kenz. Breaking our contract is going to cost more than you can afford to pay."
"Don't tempt me," I growl. "My brother is a lawyer."
"And I have a whole team of them, sweetheart." He sails out without another word.
I watch him go, dismayed and shaking. He didn't deny wanting to sleep with me. And I don't think he's going to go away that easily, either.
Crap.
Gideon and Kane are going to freak out.
