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Arianna walks into my office, wearing a powder-blue dress that clings to her body.
I blink, tryna recall the last time
she’s come to work with her body on display, showing all this ass and breasts. Plump. Juicy. Ripe and ready to be plucked and fucked.
“These in the first folder need your signature,” she says, handing me the folder. “And this one here has the schedule the promotions team worked on for Carlos.”
“Oh, aiight. When’s the promo tour?”
She smirks. “It’s all in the folder. In two months. They’re wrapping up the finishing touches on his video as we speak. And it should start running sometime in the next week or so.”
“Oh, aiight. And what’s up with the interview with Elle and Vibe?”
“Scheduling issues. But we’re on it.”
I eye her.
Her brows crinkle. “What?”
“Um, where you going”—I point at her dress—“showin’ all ya assets?”
She grins. “I’m not showing all of my nothing. I felt like dressing up, that’s all.”
I raise a brow. “Yeah, aiight. Let me find out you prowling.”
She sucks her teeth, putting her hands on her round hips. “Whatever. Sign those documents, please. And look over Carlos’ tour schedule.” She starts shaking her ass for the door, then stops. “Oh, and your one o’clock is in the conference room.”
“Is his manager with him?”
She nods. “Yes. And oh-emm-gee. He’s frickin’ f-i-n-e. Fine.” She fans herself.
I furrow my brow, giving her a confused look. “Who?”
I already know whom she’s talking about, though. Roderick Grimes. This new cat, with green eyes and a Bohemian, neo-soul vibe, we’re bringing into the label. Dude is from Texas. Dallas, I believe. And he’s mad talented. He could become the next Maxwell as long as he stays focused and doesn’t get caught up in dumb shit.
“Mister Dreamy Eyes, himself. I heard him singing. Ooh, he sounds good.” She flashes her hands up. “I can see it now. Dreamy Eyes and Carlos on tour. We can call it the Pretty Boy tour.”
I laugh opening one of the folders she’s given me. “Girl, outta here with that.”
She heads for the door, then turns back to me. “By the way, I wonder if the myth is true.”
I look up from the document. “What myth is that?”
She grins. “That everything grows big in Texas.”
I shake my head.
She grins, waggles her fingers and shuts the door behind her.
I groan inwardly, swiveling back and forth in my chair, glancing down in my lap.
My dick is still on rock.
THIRTY-NINE
Marika
“Hey, baby, where you at?”
