Page 222 of Off Limits Mogul

“Yeah, really,” Anders says, walking up to my boyfriend and handing him a microphone. “I’m sure I’m not the only one. Let’s ask the audience. Anyone else want to hear him rap?”

There’s a collectiveyeahand head nods.

I chant his stage name.

“Calm the hell down, woman,” Rhys says into the mic. “You’re too excited for your own good.”

I ignore him. “Hijinks! Hijinks! Hijinks!”

“Okay.” Rhys rolls his eyes. “The hottie wins.”

“What you’re willing to do for a nice pair of legs,” Beckett says, shaking his head.

“Watch your mouth, pretty boy,” Rhys says. “That’s my girl you’re talking about. And for your information, she doesn’t have a nice pair of legs, they’restunning.” He winks at me.

I blow him a thousand kisses.

“I stand corrected, and you’re right, I should show her a lot more respect,” Beckett says. “After all, it’s not every day you’re in the presence of a multi-award winner. Your girl wiped the floor at the StreamTunes Music Awards, American Music Awards,andGrammy Awards.”

I blush from ear to ear.

I should be used to it by now, but I still have to pinch myself for my deluge of good fortune.

This past award season was ridiculous. I was so humbled by the public’s acceptance of the musical direction I took with mycareer. Holt and his team gave me wings. Ditto for my amazing boyfriend, my brother and my friends. Without them, I doubt I would’ve had the courage to go all the way.

Other than the encounter with Jedd Maitland in his tunnel vision pursuit of a lie, my life since I landed at LAX has been a dream.

I was floored when Jedd reached out through my publicist to apologize after the accident that left him in pretty bad shape. He felt responsible for what happened. In his view, had it not been for him, I wouldn’t have been at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Margaret’s fifteen minutes of fame fizzled faster than a votive candle burning out. She went under the radar after her publishing company dropped her. Her tell-all book was never published. The string of interviews where she spewed venom at me became a liability and put a brutal end to her aspirations as an author. I never heard from her again. I’m okay with that.

“You forgot something important on the list,” Holt says to his brother.

“Oh, yeah, what’s that?” Beckett is sporting a cocky grin.

“She’s one of Ritual of Rhyme’s rising stars,” Holt says with a tinge of pride.

I beam.

I’m so happy I went with my gut.

Holt is an artist first and foremost, and that has a huge impact on his business decisions. He’s not a soulless corporate type who only cares about numbers, willing to produce unoriginal overused auto-tune pop trash just for the sake of downloads or sales. His artists are real singers. And it’s not only about his ideas. He’s receptive to yours. He transformed me from a bubblegum singer to a real one.

“I lucked out,” Rhys says.

My boyfriend and I stare at each other, huge grinsstretching our lips. We’ve been together for a year and a half, and sparks still fly. Another blessing to add to a long list.

“Start rapping, Hartford, or get a fucking room,” Tomas says.

“Don’t get your boxer briefs tied up in a bunch, Lazovic,” Rhys says before turning his attention to the audience of two. “I need another voice for the song I have in mind,” he says. “Levi, wanna do a duet?”

“I’m no Tupac Shakur, but I’m game,” Levi says. “What song were you thinking of?”

Although Levi only raps for fun, Rhys says he has some impressive skills.

“’Shake That’,” Rhys says.

Levi nods. “Old school?”