“I’m assuming you wanted to talk to me?” I ask, drawing the heat off Keaton. Last thing I need is for the two of them to get in a pissing match. Nothing good will come of it.
With a sigh, the man I’ve known all my life retakes his seat and crosses his legs while spreading his arms across the back of the couch. He narrows his gaze on me, studying my every movement. “I hope you realize what a gift this is. He has perfect pitch. It means he’ll be able to seamlessly join your little group.” His eyes flick to Keaton, and I get the impression he’s not only trying to insult us, but seems to believe the rumors.Maybe he believes I’m simply a whore after all the years of his conditioning.
But fuck what he thinks.
He continues on, not waiting for me to reply to anything he’s said. “As I mentioned before, this won’t be free. I’ll need you to write and duet a song with Carmen for her album.”
It feels as if he’s taken a sledgehammer to my chest. Pain radiates from my heart, twisting and clenching at the simple thought of anything I worked on coming out of her mouth.
He’s using me.
Again.
Trying to take something else to give to his latest victim and rubbing it in my face.
My breath catches, and I’m too stunned to answer. I was prepared for him to ask me to do more shows, but this blindsided me. The urge to rage and scream fills me, and I bite my cheek until the tang of copper fills my mouth in my attempt to keep it in. I have to answer him calmly, or else he’ll throw it back in my face that I’m simply a hysterical woman who doesn’t know what’s best for my career.
It’s probably only been a split second, but the silence seems to stretch between time and space. A buzzing sound picks up in my ears as I scramble for something to say. Anything.
“Excuse me,” a female voice suddenly cuts in out of nowhere.
My heart drops into my stomach, and I can’t stop myself from slightly jumping in my seat. The interruption stops me from tumbling into a panic attack, which I couldn’t be more grateful for. That’s the last thing I’d want to happen in front of my current audience.
A small shred of satisfaction runs through me, knowing I’m not the only one who gets startled. The bastard’s spine becomes rigid, his body tensing as his fingers curl into fists. He at least has an excuse—his back was to the door—but I’m not sure how I didn’t notice a woman standing there. She must’ve come in when the others left, though I couldn’t tell you why she decided not to make her presence known.
“Who the fuck are you?” Dickless spits out.
I take in the professionally dressed woman. Her tailored pantsuit, high ponytail, and bold lipstick give her an air of intelligence and an aura of don’t fuck with me. I like her instantly, and it has nothing to do with the way she’s unsettled the owner of Lexington Productions.
Her dark brown eyes are sharp, taking in Dickless in a single sweep of her gaze. She steps forward—her black hair barely swaying with the movement, like it knows better than to step out of line—and holds out a hand. “I take it you’re Mr. Lexington, the owner of Lexington Productions. My name is Isabella Flores, Raina’s manager.”
He takes the offered hand, but it seems to be an action born from muscle memory more than a conscious decision.
Isabella takes her hand back and grabs the strap of her bag. “I look forward to working closely with your office.” She gives him a civil smile, but I catch the fire burning in her eyes. “I hope I’m mistaken, but it sounded like you were fixing to amend my client’s contract without proper representation.”
She tilts her head and waits for an answer. The woman hasn’t even officially met me yet, and she’s already sticking up for me. She’s actually doing her job, not to mention doing it exceptionally well. I want to burst into tears at having someone who’s truly in my corner, not just saying it with empty words.
I could fucking kiss her. She’s already gained my confidence that she could win this fight.
My thoughts return to the tasteless request he made, and I have to wonder why he didn’t ask for more shows. If he’s not doing that now, then when will he? What other bullshit do I have to look forward to? At the same time, I can’t help but think about my fans. The tour dates have already been released, tickets have been sold. The Storm Chasers are counting on me.
“The conversations I have with my niece are none of your business,” he growls in response. “Learn your place or you’ll be out of here before you even discover where the bathroom is.”
I’m not sure if that was meant to be some kind of dig about her being a woman or what, but it didn’t quite land right.
My new manager slowly takes a breath in, her facial expression never changing or giving away what she’s thinking.“All due respect, Mr. Lexington, but the moment you mentioned my client writing a song for someone else and performing it with them, it became my business.”
I’ll give it to the woman, she has no fear, zero qualms about going toe to toe with the shark that is the owner of the world’s top music label. Spoiler, he didn’t get there honestly.
With my fans in mind, I jump in the middle of their soon to be argument if the building tension in the air is anything to go by. “Uncle,” I call, but have to pause as bile rushes up my throat. Fuck, do I hate addressing him that way. “Let me meet with my manager, and I’ll have her get in contact with you when I have an answer.”
Dickless scowls, clearly unhappy with the turn of events, but he knows if he fights against this, it won’t look good for him. There’s no way it wouldn’t come off as him trying to take advantage of me.
“Very well.” He stands and brushes his hands along his clothes, trying to remove wrinkles from his impeccable ten thousand dollar suit. “Darius has been instructed to keep an eye on you if he wants a place in my label. His test is being able to keep your wildness in line. Please try not to squander this opportunity. His talent shouldn’t go to waste, and I can assure you, this is the last chance you’ll be given.”
My new manager flicks her eyes up and down after he passes, as if she’s weighing his worth and ultimately finds him lacking. She narrows her gaze and purses her lips. It’s clear she’s been keeping these expressions from appearing on her face while he could catch her. It’s good that she can remain professional when it counts, considering who we’re dealing with.
“I’ll send Alyssa in,” he says in lieu of a goodbye.
