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My shoulders droop. “Maybe, but there’s no harm in me at least trying, right?”

“Wrong. I don’t want you speeding through a conversation with CeeCee because you’re preoccupied with trying to talk to Reed for me. I’ve got two years before graduation. You’ve got a week. Just this once, kick my dreams to the curb and look out for number one, girl.”

I watch a group of students enter the lecture hall and glance at my watch. “Ally, I hear what you’re saying. But I can’t be in the same building as a man who could literally make your dreams come true, and not—”

“Stop,” Alessandra says firmly. “You need a good-paying journalism job, Georgie. Not just for yourself, but for your dad, too. Now, stop arguing with me about this and go in there and get CeeCee Rafael to take your writing samples and make all your dreams come true.”

Chapter 3

Reed

As I park my car in a structure at UCLA, I continue grumbling on the phone to my longtime attorney, Leonard. The entire drive here, we’ve been talking about the latest batch of frivolous lawsuits and settlement demands leveled against my various businesses—my record label, real estate holdings, nightclubs, and more—and I’m beyond annoyed.

“It’s the way of the world when you’ve got extra-deep pockets,” Leonard says. “These plaintiffs’ attorneys are hoping you’ll settle their bogus claims quickly for a nominal sum, rather than paying me quadruple the amount to fight them.”

“Well, they can suck my dick. I don’t settle meritless claims, Leonard.”

“Yes, I know. And as your attorney, may I say it’s the thing I like best about you.”

“Not my sparkling personality?”

“That’s a distant second.” I hear papers rustling on Leonard’s end of the call. “Okay, let’s talk about that copyright infringement suit against Red Card Riot for a second. Also bullshit?”

“Total and complete. That same chord progression can be found in everything from Mozart to Bruno Mars.”

“Well, then, it should be easy to get the case dismissed on a motion. I’ll just need to attach a declaration by a musicologist, explaining what you just said. Know anyone?”

“Angela McGavin. She’s the head of UCLA’s music school. Coincidentally, I’ll be seeing her at an event on-campus in about a half-hour. I’ll chat with her about it then.”

“Perfect. Lemme know. What’s the event?”

“I’ll be speaking on a panel, telling wide-eyed music students about the business side of the industry.”

“Look at you, giving back to the college kiddies who are hoping to follow in your illustrious footsteps.”

“I’m not doing it out of the goodness of my heart. I got roped into it by CeeCee.”

Leonard chuckles. “Ah, the indomitable CeeCee Rafael. I find it hard to say no to that woman, myself.”

“Hard? Try impossible, thanks to all the publicity she’s given my up-and-comers over the years. The feature she wrote about RCR in time for their debut release is what bought me my first house.” My phone buzzes and I look down. “I’ve got to take another call, Len. Don’t forget to text me how many tickets your daughter wants for the RCR concert. I’ll make sure she and her friends get backstage to meet the band.”

“Wow! Thank you. You’re going to win me Father of the Year with this birthday present.”

“Show me some mercy on my next bill, and we’ll call it even.” I disconnect the call and pick up with Isabel. “Well, if it isn’t ‘America’s Sweetheart.’”

Isabel giggles. “Oh, you saw that interview, did you? Wasn’t it amazing?”

“I wouldn’t call the interview ‘amazing,’ no. The headline was amazing. That’s the kind of nickname that’ll stick. But the interview itself was only okay. You laid on the ‘relatability’ factor a bit thick. The photo spread was smokin’ hot and on-brand, however, although I’d have told them to lay off the photoshop, especially on your face. You’re not twenty-two anymore, but why would you want to be? Overall, though, I’d say the piece was a win. It was certainly well timed, considering the studio’s big announcement last week. Congratulations on that, by the way. I’ve always said you’ve got superpowers, haven’t I? And now, it’s official.”

“Holy fuck, Reed. A simple ‘Yes, Isabel, the interview was amazing’ would have sufficed.”

“You want me to lie to you?”

“Absolutely.”

I scoff. “Don’t ask for my opinion if you don’t want to hear it.” I check my watch. “Why are you calling me? Aren’t you filming pick-ups in Toronto?”

“I’ve got a few days off, so I flew into LA for a meeting with the studio head. Unfortunately, though, he had a family emergency while I was in the air and needed to reschedule. Which means, lucky you, I’ve just landed in LA with zero plans for the next thirty-six hours. Let’s fuck like rabbits! I’m a horny bunny.”

“Sorry, I’m booked solid between now and the break of dawn, when I’ll be boarding a flight to The Big Apple.”

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