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“Well, that’s great, because I have another meeting I need to get to.”
“Another meeting?” she frowns at me. “Then why are you telling me this and not Luke?” she asks suspiciously.
I shrug. “He probably hasn't gotten around to it.”
She stares at me, like she's trying to work out if I'm serious, or not.
“So, what's this meeting for?”
“My upcoming tour,” I say, ignoring the tone of her voice.
“Why do your people never come here?” she asks. “Do they understand the concept of rehab and how it works?”
“Sure they do. But my ‘people’ also have a ton of shit to do for the other musicians they manage. Their world doesn’t revolve around me,” I point out.
“I’m surprised you know that,” she mutters under her breath.
I hold back a smirk, because she’s right. That was a very non-Brix thing to say.
“What’s the difference, anyway?” I ask. “It’s not like I ever see you do any work, besides taxi me around.”
She glares at me. Was that the wrong thing for to say?
Maybe.
She opens her mouth to respond, but I’m saved by Luke calling out to her as he walks into the courtyard.
“Yes?” she says, giving me a dirty look before turning around.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he says, his usual annoyed look etched on his face.
Come to think of it, he has that same look whenever he talks to her.
“I see you've caught up with Brix. I suppose he filled you in about his meeting?”
“I was just about to ask him when this meeting is,” she replies with fake enthusiasm.
“Right now,” I say, enjoying the falter of her smile.
“I’m sorry, I’ve got another commitment that I need to get to,” Hannah says, giving me a nervous look.
“Really?” Luke asks. “I would’ve thought you’d be keen to make up some hours from the other day. I’m sure this won’t take long. Will it?” he asks, giving me a pointed look.
“I couldn’t say,” I admit. “It might take five minutes. It could go all night. It’s one of those things where you never quite know how fast things are going to progress.”
She smiles at Luke, and then she gives me a full-on death stare.
“Fine,” she snaps, already taking off down the hall. “Let’s go.”“So. Where is the meeting this time?” she asks, once we’re buckled into her car. “Is your manager getting his hair done, or maybe a manicure?” she asks, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“A pedicure,” I grin. “I like that. You're really witty, you know that? You should consider a career in stand up comedy.”
“Yeah, and maybe you should've gone into something more suited to your talents,” she says sweetly.
I grin. “You mean—”
“Not that,” she cuts me off, her tone irritable. “I meant that you’re a smartass. Now, are you going to tell me where we’re going, or not?”
“Sorry,” I chuckle. “My manager suggested we meet at the tour coordinators apartment, which is on Fourth Street.”
“Okay,” she mutters, plugging it into her navigation system.
“Any issues with your car?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No. She drives better than she ever has.” She glances at me. “I never did thank you, did I?”
“I don’t know about that,” I say, chuckling. “I thought you gave me a damn good thank you.”
Her cheeks go red. “About that—”
“Let me guess,” I cut in. “You wish it hadn’t happened, and you want me to forget about it?”
She glances at me, looking embarrassed. “You don’t mind? It’s not that I want to pretend it never happened, I just think given the circumstances, it might be best…”
“Sure,” I shrug. “I mean, I’ll do my best to forget how soft and tender your lips were, or how warm your skin felt against my touch. And I’ll try not to think about how sweet you tasted, or how hard my co—”
“Okay, you’ve made your point,” she cuts in, glaring at me. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea. I could lose my job,” she adds quietly.
“Only if people find out,” I reason.
She laughs. “You’re Brix Wilson. You can’t pee without someone uploading a picture to Instagram.”
“Have you searched for that?” I ask her, frowning. “Like that’s a pretty specific claim to make. One you’d only know if—”
“Brix,” she growls. “I’m serious. Everything you do, somebody is watching. There’s always someone waiting to take the money shot.”
Her words echo in my head.
She’s right. There is always someone watching. Brix can’t do anything without the whole world knowing. How could he suck some guy off and nobody know about it? It doesn’t make any sense. Unless that’s what this is about. What if someone knows his secret and they’re blackmailing him?
If that’s the case, there’s no better place to figure it out than inside his apartment.Chapter 17HannahWhat the hell is he doing in there?
Shifting in my seat, I glance at the clock and sigh. It feels like he's been in there for hours, but it’s only been about twenty minutes. I slam my fist down on the steering wheel, trying to let out some of my frustration, but all I end up doing is hurting my hand. I rub it gingerly, and lean my head back against the seat, my mind wandering back to what happened yesterday.
