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Which I think it’s totally fucked up, and told that asshole as much.
That fuckwit became immediately defensive and asked why I would care about her name in the first place.
Had she done something?
I hated how the dickhead's mind went in the gutter, suggesting she might have done something inappropriate, and I barely held back from popping him in the face.
I don't need another lawsuit right now. I already got the family's attorney —the fucking snake— breathing down on my fucking neck as it is.
Plus, the way things were going, it started to look like if I asked any more questions about my little beauty, I would end up spelling trouble for her.
I had but given up on getting her name out of somebody when I saw the forty-something blonde lady she had run up to yesterday standing near one of the elevators.
Ms. Sweets, true to her name, really seems to be a nice lady. She's clearly looking out for Little Beauty, so she didn't wanna tell me shit at first, but I told her I needed to have a word with her to apologize because I scared her yesterday. She relented and finally gave me her name –Mia– and told me she would be coming in later in the afternoon.
Score.
I was halfway in the lift when she stopped me cold. "Don't think I’m going to believe for a minute you only wanted her name so you could apologize to her. Don't even try to think about playing games with her, Mr. Bigshot Rock Star or you'll have to deal with me."
Sheesh.
What a lady. Eyes like fucking ice, that one, and an attitude to match sparking right behind those unassuming round glasses and calm, sweet visage of hers.
I really like her.
Actually, aside from Little Beauty, she may be the only person that I like in this joint.
I shake my head with a smile.
I look over at the balcony's glass doors, and I can almost see my little beauty standing there, wringing her hands.
Mia Bravo.
My neck tilts backward onto the plush headrest of the large sofa that runs against the wall, and I sigh.
Fucking hell, even her name speaks to me.
Mia.Mine. If I believed in fate, I couldn't think her name a coincidence.
And what the fuck am I saying now?
I do believe in it…
Maybe I didn't until I stepped out of that shower and bumped into her, but I definitely started to the moment her eyes met mine.
I puff out a breath.
I've got some major groveling to do, that's for sure. And so little time to accomplishsaidmajor groveling!
We're performing at Capital One tonight, so if I don't get her to see things my way in the next few hours, I will have to wait until tomorrow because it's not like I can play hooky tonight and piss off the more than twenty-thousand fans that will be waiting in the arena for us.
And then I should be on a plane for LA by tomorrow night.
I should be. But I know I won't be.
We have to start shooting the video for our latest single the day after tomorrow. One of the last things that the good-for-nothing manager did before we sacked him yesterday was telling us all about how fucking chock-full our schedule for the next two weeks was going to be. And this, despite me remembering with damn fucking crystal clarity how we told him and his team of demented fools that we meant for the next five weeks before our Canadian rearranged dates to be downtime.
I wonder what Rick and Sly are going to think if I don't get on that plane…
