Page 52 of Smitten


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“Goodbye, kiddo,” Reed says into my hair. “Welcome to River Records.”

Tears prick my eyes at his warmth. “Thank you, Reed. This is the best day of my life.”

“God, I hope not.” He smiles at me, his dark eyes sparkling. “Owen will send the paperwork this week. He’ll be your main point of contact, regarding initial logistics. I’ll be in touch, as necessary, regarding substantive matters.”

“Okay.” I salute him. “Yes, sir.”

Georgina squeezes me again, and holds me for a very long moment, like she’s memorizing how I feel in her arms. “I love you,” she says simply.

“I love you, too.”

We say our final goodbyes, and off Reed and Georgie go into the night, presumably to screw like rabbits.

The moment our front door closes, McKenna flops onto our couch, throws her head back in abject surrender, and screams mournfully. “Oh my God! I thought I was gonna puke!”

Giggling, I flop down next to my friend and pat her leg. “You’ve got balls, Ken. I’m impressed you played for him when you had him to yourself.”

“Are you crazy? I’d never do that! Reed insisted I play for him! He asked what I study, and I told him. He asked my favorite piece to play, and I told him. And the next thing you know, fuck my life, I was standing there playing Shostakovich for Reed freaking Rivers!” Shaking her head, she grabs the champagne bottle off the coffee table and takes a long gulp. “No wonder you melted down at his party. Dude, you said he was intimidating. But I had no idea.”

“Yeah, but, unlike me, you didn’t collapse under pressure.”

“Only because I didn’t have anywhere to run!”

We both giggle again.

I take the bottle from her and finish it off. “He’s actually so much nicer than he initially seemed to me. He has this way of talking that seems so . . . stern. But once you understand that’s just the way he looks, you realize he’s actually a sweetheart. Really sincere and generous.”

“If you say so.”

“He just offered to try to get you jobs after graduation!”

“He wasn’t serious.”

“But he was. That’s what I’m saying. He’s actually very nice. And he’s so good to Georgina. It’s so lovely to see how much he respects and likes her. They’re friends, not just lovers.”

McKenna cocks her eyebrow. “Speaking of lovers . . . I’m assuming you saw the flowers from your loverrrrr in the kitchen?”

“I did. They’re gorgeous.”

“What do they mean?”

I feel my cheeks warming. “Oh, just, you know . . . good luck, basically. He knew Reed was coming to my show and I was shooting for the stars. So, he sent stargazers.”

“Clever.”

I look at my watch. “It’s actually perfect timing for me to give my loverrr a call to thank him.”

I rise, and so does McKenna.

“Congratulations on getting signed, Ally. I’m so happy for you.”

“It’s just one song, and Reed only did it as a birthday gift to Georgina.”

McKenna startles me by putting her palms on my cheeks. “No. Don’t say that. Reed did it because he knows a rising star when he sees one.”

I press my lips together, to keep my emotions at bay. “Thank you.”

She squeals and takes my hands. “You’re a River Records artist, bitch! The same as Aloha, Laila, and Red Card Riot!”

“Don’t forget 22 Goats!”

McKenna palms her forehead. “Can you believe this is your life, Ally?”

I laugh, shaking my head. “No, I can’t. Not even a little bit.”

Nineteen

Fish

I’m in bed in LA. Alessandra’s in bed in Boston. And for the past half hour she’s been telling me about her amazing day, including the part where Reed offered her a one-song recording and publishing deal for “Blindsided.”

Alessandra twirls a lock of her dark hair around her finger. “You know what other cool thing happened tonight?”

I smile. “I think I know. But tell me, anyway.”

She leans forward, so that her big blue eyes fill my entire laptop screen. “I found out I really like champagne!”

I laugh. That’s got to be the seventh time she’s said that during this conversation. “Wait. What?” I tease. “Alessandra Tennison likes champagne? Huh. I hadn’t heard that.”

Giggling, she drags her fingertip across her laptop camera, like she’s touching my face. “Oh, Matthew. You’re so beautiful.” She arches an eyebrow. “And hot.” She drags her fingertip across her plush lower lip. “Hey, Matthew?”

“Yes, beautiful?”

She cocks her head. “Have you been putting that video you took of me to good use . . . loverrrr?”

Whoa.

Since that amazing night when we recorded videos of each other, we haven’t talked about them. In fact, we haven’t talked about anything sexual again. But I’ve got to say, I like where this conversation is headed.

I smile. “As a matter of fact, yes, I’ve been putting that video of you to very, very good and frequent use. What about you? Have you been putting that video of me to good use?”

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