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I don’t know what he was expecting, but I don’t think it was that. He stares at me for a moment before finally nodding, the set of his jaw hard again. His gaze shifts to the road where there’s a taxi waiting and he moves to it, opens the door for me, and then closes it once I’m in. We don’t say another word and as the taxi pulls away from the curb, I realise this was our first fight.

Shit.

6

Jett

The first thought that hits me as I wake up the next morning is that I’m going to need copious amounts of water and headache pills to get through the day. My head throbs, and my gut feels ill from the mother of all hangovers I’m experiencing. My second thought is that I fucked up big time with Presley last night and once I get this hangover under control, I need to find her and sort that shit out.

I stumble out of bed and head into the bathroom for a shower. I’m almost naked when my phone rings. Hoping it’s Presley, I grab for it, but am disappointed to see it’s Doug. “Hey, man, what’s up?” I ask.

“Jett, the market’s taken another dive, and I think you should convert what’s left of your shares into cash holdings and bonds.”

My gut drops at his words and if I didn’t feel sick before, I feel really fucking ill now. “How much did it drop this time?”

“You’ve lost another fifteen percent,” he says, his voice sombre.

My mind is spinning, trying to think straight. Between the headache and this news, I can hardly begin to make a decision let alone even think about it. “So you recommend that now? Getting rid of th

e shares?”

“Yeah, now I do. The market is fucked at the moment. It might not take any more hits, but you just never know. You need to go into preservation mode, my friend.”

“Do it.” I know I need to make a quick decision and seems as though my mind isn’t at full speed today, I decide to trust him. He’s never led me astray to date.

“I’m on it,” he says, and we hang up.

I lean my hands against the edge of the vanity and stare at my reflection in the mirror.

This will be okay.

I will fix this.

* * *

West looks up as I enter the recording studio just over an hour later. He grins and raises his brows. “How’s the head?”

“Almost under control,” I reply, looking around for Van. I ran into Hunter outside but am yet to see Van. “Where’s Van?”

West shrugs. “No idea, but you’re early. I wasn’t expecting either of you for another hour or so.”

I pull out my phone. “I’m gonna call him and see if he’s on his way.”

He frowns. “Fuck, don’t start something with him so early in the day.”

Looking up at him, I ask, “What?”

“You two agreed on a time for today so don’t call him and harass him to come early. And what’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing’s gotten into me,” I mutter, the pain in my head racheting up again.

“Something clearly has, because you’re here early for once, and you want to get Van here so we can get going. And I didn’t think you even wanted to make this album.”

“I’ve changed my mind. I do want to make this album, and I want to get this shit done fast.”

I’ve clearly confused West because he’s almost gaping at me. “What the fuck happened to make you do a complete flip on this?”

Agitation prickles my skin, and I shove my fingers through my hair. “My shares have taken a hit; a fucking huge hit. I’m bleeding cash, West. I need this to get done.” We’ve always been honest with each other so I lay it out for him.

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