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“It’s good to finally meet you, Mr. Gellar,” I said, and a roar of laughter left him.
“Mr. Gellar? Call me Marshall.” He gestured for us to sit as he walked back to his oversized chair—throne, more like—and then he wasted no time getting down to business. “Gentlemen, I have to tell you, I’ve listened to your album…”
Out of the corner of my eye I could see Killian holding his breath, and I found myself doing the same. Sure, we’d heard he liked some of the things we sent his way while we were in Miami, but shit, what if he’d changed his mind? The pressure in the room was intense.
Marshall shook his head, and my stomach dropped, but then a wide grin spread across his lips. “You boys have outdone yourselves.”
A collective sigh went through the room as Marshall continued.
“If I’d known this is what you were capable of, I’d have kicked Trent to the curb for you a long time ago.” Then he held his hands up. “Kidding, kidding. But Corruption is gold. You haven’t made it easy to narrow down the singles.”
Beside me, Killian reached over and gripped the back of my neck, giving me a shake as if to say, “Fuck yeah, Halo.” Not that it had been all me doing the work by any means, but all of us together?
Magic.
Thirty
Viper
I WASN’T SURE when Killian and I had appointed ourselves Halo’s personal bodyguards, but as we walked into Gellar’s office, the two of us had taken up position on either side of him like soldiers going into battle.
As longtime clients of MGA, we knew what it meant to be granted a meeting in this office—either something fucking momentous or something akin to battle—and with our most recent trips down here as a gauge, both Killian and I hadn’t been sure what direction it would go. It appeared, however, today was going the route of really fucking momentous.
“So, Halo, Killian tells me you’re responsible for the new sound and direction of the band. What do you say to that?” Gellar said, zeroing in on the angel. I glanced at Halo to see him gripping his thighs—in an effort not to fidget, would be my guess.
“Well, I,” Halo started, and then stopped and regrouped. “We all came up with the new sound—”
“Aw, stop being so modest, Halo,” Jagger said, and when he peered around Slade’s broad frame to look in Halo’s direction, he added, “It was totally you. Own that shit.”
Halo’s eyes widened a fraction, and when his cheeks reddened, I took pity on the guy and let my attention shift back to the man with the money. Marshall Gellar was watching Halo like he was an interesting new toy he’d just acquired and was still trying to figure out.
But there was no way in hell Halo was about to tell Gellar that he’d single-handedly saved all our asses. Halo also wouldn’t tell him that he was a musical fucking genius—but I sure as shit had no problem saying so.
“Halo is definitely the one responsible for the direction Fallen Angel has taken. He has more talent in his little finger than all of your other artists combined.” When I broke the silence, I felt Halo’s stare bore into the side of my head, but I refused to look his way. I also refused to shut up, because Gellar needed to understand that he had someone special sitting in his office right now. Someone he better not fuck with.
“He not only sings and plays the piano like a fucking rock star, he can play any instrument you put in his hands. He writes, composes, and he looks like that.” I gestured with a thumb toward Halo. “And is humble to his very core. He’s going to make you millions, Gellar, and you know it.”
Gellar’s eyes found mine as he leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers over his chest. “You certainly speak highly of him for someone who usually doesn’t give a shit either way.”
That was true. The last few times I’d seen Gellar, I’d been less than charming, to say the least. We’d gone at it many times over in the past about music, lyrics…Trent, and I wasn’t about to let him bait me now. This was about the band, not my less-than-stellar personality.
“He’s talented,” I said. “And if you’re looking for suggestions on which song to release next, then I’d go with ‘Dark Angel.’ It shows off Halo’s grittier side but is less in your face than—”
“A case of blue balls?” Gellar said, and Halo coughed out a strangled laugh beside me. Killian, Jagger, and Slade were less discreet, laughing, cursing, and grinning like a bunch of morons.
Gellar smirked. “That one had your name all over it.”
I shrugged, not in the least bit sorry. “Happy to see you know me and my dick so well.”
