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"I failed Spanish."

She laughs. "I don't believe you."

She's right. I didn't fail Spanish. I've never failed at anything, and that includes the classes that fell to the wayside senior year.

I look back at her. "A lot of people would reject an offer to get into bed with a stranger."

"Not a lot of women. Not if it was you." Again, her cheeks flush. She clears her throat. Taps her fingers against the desk. "Besides, it's part of my job description."

"Making out with rock stars?"

"It's in my contract. I only act like the quiet, innocent stand-in. And you bought it, too." She holds her hand over her mouth and fake whispers. "They always buy it."

"Anyone stand out?"

"Nah. Made out with one rock star, made out with all rock stars." She laughs, but there's something in her eyes.

She's nervous.

Because we were rolling about that bed?

Or because she's got a thing for Malcolm Strong, Dangerous Noise singer?

She looks up at me. "What did you think of Sandy?"

"Not my type."

She bites her lip. "For the video?"

"Still not my type."

Her eyes go to the screen. She focuses on it for a moment then her eyes go back to me. "Can I trust you?"

"Depends on what you're about to offer."

"To keep what I'm about to say between us."

I nod. "Scout's honor."

"Ah, I know how that one goes. I ask were you a Boy Scout. And you say no, but I know how to tie a knot." She swallows hard. "I'm sure you do. Your reputation precedes you."

"The bondage?"

"Yeah." Her cheeks flush. "I do Danielle's research. It was my job to look you up. To watch all your videos, read all your interviews, listen to all your albums. I have to know exactly what image you're selling to the public." She manages to hold my gaze, but her expression screams except I already know your image. I'm a huge fan. I think about you every night. "I'm supposed to make sure you sign the release." She points to a contract on the table.

I take a seat and skim over it. "Is that your secret—that you do Danielle's research?"

"No." She watches me sign the release. "We both get it, the tortured bad boy image."

"We do?"

"The first day I worked for Danielle, I walked in on my second favorite musician doing coke off a prostitute's stomach." Her voice lifts. "While his wife went to pick up their daughter from school."

"Second favorite is specific."

She clears her throat. "I don't have a ranked list."

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