Instead, the studio door flung open, snapping that invisible string between them. Jamie Sr. walked through first, followed by Tex.
Jamie’s spine straightened, and he pushed his chair a good foot from Brinton’s. She took the cue and did the same.
“Hey, y’all,” Jamie said, voice cracking at the exertion. “I was showing Brinton how the mixer worked.”
“That so?” Jamie Sr. asked, disapproval thick on his tongue. He crossed to the wet bar next to the couch, poured two whiskeys neat into etched crystal tumblers, and passed one to Tex. He set a beige folder on the counter.
“We should put in a few hours,” Tex said, sucking his teeth after a hearty sip. “The guys’ll be here in twenty.”
Jamie’s tense smile fell. “Oh, I thought today was an off day?”
“There are no off days.” His father laughed dryly.
“That’s what kills me about your generation. Nobody wants to do the work. Why don’t you get in the booth and warm up?”
“Yeah, got it,” Jamie said, head slung low. He needed his father to believe nothing had changed with Brinton. Even though he wanted nothing more than to rewind to sixty seconds earlier, when they were alone.
“Sorry, honey, this is a closed session,” Jamie Sr. told Brinton.
Slowly, she rose from her seat. “Sure. I have plenty to transcribe anyway.” She slipped on a brave face, but from the time they’d spent together, the waver in her voice meant she was hurt.
That explained the battering ram he felt in his chest. But his hands were tied.
“We can pick this up later,” Jamie called out.
At the door, she offered him an unconvincing smile. “I got what I needed.”
Once she was gone, Jamie was still at the soundboard, holding his head in his hands. He’d almost kissed Brinton merely minutes ago. He wished he had. Even as he knew that would be harder to hide from his father than his betrayal. That threat paled in comparison to the spark he felt the day he met Brinton.
That spark refused to be snuffed out. He was completely fucked.
His father loomed over him like a specter. “You tell her anything I should be concerned about?”
“I told you, I was showing her how the mixer worked,” Jamie retorted, brows creased.
“Yeah, that’s why I called a few friends at Highland.”
Highland wasLandmark’s publisher. It was a family business that had been around since nineteen-fifty.
“It seems they’re lukewarm about Ms. Shaw carrying thisstory. And that she hasn’t been the highest performer in the past. It’d be a shame if I expressed my own concerns, don’t you think?”
Reflexively, Jamie clenched his fists. It was one thing for his father to antagonize him, but Brinton was innocent. “Daddy, c’mon. That’s not necessary.”
“I think it’s time you prove where your loyalty lies.” Jamie Sr. reached for the folder and thrust it into Jamie’s lap.
Inside, Jamie’s new contract stared back at him. His chest tightened.
Tex wedged his stout body between him and his father. “It’ll be good to tie up this loose end, son,” he reasoned.
Tex held out a pen. Thisloose endwas a lasso, signaling his father had won. But if signing this contract saved Brinton’s job, Jamie would put his own happiness on hold. There was no other option.
So, he signed his name with a flourish, next to that stupidX.
He’d tell Brinton what he’d done before long. Once he figured out a new plan.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Jamie Crawford Jr. is a man with a reputation that precedes him. But he’s out to prove he’s so much more than the rumors. In fact, he’s nothing like them at all.
