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A Week Later
Blakely refuses to speak to me. Whenever I try to call or message her, she ignores my efforts. Sometimes she'll reply with,"I'm not ready to talk to you."
I know her schedule. My drivers inform me of her every move, and I watch her from afar. Her single hit number one, and I've never been so proud of anybody in my life.
I've sent her flowers. I've texted her and left her voice messages about how excited and how proud of her I am. But she hasn't responded.
Each day that passes tests my willpower to respect her wishes and not storm into Apartment Thirteen. And this morning, I woke up and saw on the internet that she's opening for Colton Linwood.
He's a well-established musician with several songs charting right now. She's flying to Detroit tomorrow night, yet no one told me, which means Noah removed me from receiving notifications on her schedule.
Nothing burns me more.
I drive to the studio and wait for Blakely to arrive. It takes everything I have to stay in my car. I've not gone near her except for that first night at Apartment Thirteen. Her threat of divorce is enough to hold me back. So I've only watched her from afar.
Noah arrives, and I curl my fists. I wait ten minutes, then text Ears.
Me: I'm coming inside. We've got business matters to discuss regarding security for Blakely. And don't argue. You know I'm to approve all of it, and that's not changed, no matter what Noah's telling you.
A moment passes, and Ears steps out of the building. I exit my vehicle. He crosses his arms, his expression warning me there better not be any trouble, then nods for me to follow him inside.
He leads me past security, going directly to his office, then says as a reminder, "You better stay calm. I don't need a fistfight going down in my office. Understand?"
"There wouldn't be a fight. I'd tear that pussy's head off, and you know it."
His eyes turn to slits, and he barks, "That attitude isn't going to help Blakely. Is that what you want?"
I sigh and run my hands through my hair. "No, of course not."
"Then are we clear?"
I grunt. "I'm clear."
He assesses me momentarily, then asserts, "You stay here, and I'll go get Noah." He leaves the room.
I fight my demons not to break down the recording room door. I want to see my pet and pull her into my arms. The longer we're apart, the more distraught I'm getting, the more desperation grows, and I don't know how I'll ever fix this.
I thought by now she'd at least talk to me. Every moment of silence kills me a little more.
Ears finally returns with Noah in tow. He's got a cocky look on his face, as if he's won something over on me.
I snap. "I'm going to be put back on the notifications for Blakely's schedule, and all security still goes through me. This hasn't changed."
Noah laughs. It's arrogant and haughty, and I want to slap the shit out of him. He declares, "You have no control over her anymore. Go home, Riggs. You're not welcome here."
I attempt to keep my cool, but I seethe, "So Blakely told you to take me off everything?"
The look in his eyes tells me that she didn't. But he claims, "Yeah, she's aware. She wants nothing to do with you. Now get the hell out of my face."
My heart pounds harder. I clench my fists at my side and call his bluff. "Bullshit."
"She doesn't want anything to do with you, so deal with it." Noah smirks.
Fuck this.
I rush at him, and he steps back, flinching. I bypass him and tear down the hallway toward the recording studio.
Ears calls out, "Riggs! Get back here!"
