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I’m stunned by the sincerity in his voice. Simon was always so slick. Always mostly full of a bunch of shit too. “Thank you.”
“How much did Lancaster pay you to perform?” He holds up his hand at the same time as I part my lips, ready to brag about the ridiculous amount I made. “Don’t tell me. I’ll be jealous I didn’t make a cut.”
I snap my lips shut for a moment before I say, “It was an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“I’m sure,” Simon says dryly, grabbing a slim folder that’s sitting on his desk and opening it. He glances at the piece of paper nestled inside, his expression thoughtful when he lifts his head to study me. “This has the potential to blow up and transform your career.”
“My career can’t be transformed much. Pretty sure I trashed it so hard I can never bounce back,” I admit with a nervous chuckle.
“I’m not meaning in a negative manner. I’m talking positive. Your life has the potential to change completely, just like last time.”
“All because I kissed an heiress?”
“You did more than kiss her. You performed like you had zero fucks left in you, kid. You were on fire on that stage. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He shakes his head as if he’s in awe of me.
A normal human being would be thrilled at all this praise. Who wouldn’t want constant fame, endless money, and women throwing their panties at them? For a brief, shining time in my life, that’s what I experienced as a member of Five Car Pileup.
But that period in my life also left me hollow inside. A shell of the person I once was. Hell, I lost myself. I lost friends. My girlfriend. All the fame disappeared, replaced with hate. Drugs and alcohol. Eventually the money dried up. The contracts were rescinded and the band split.
It was fucking awful.
I love hearing Simon’s praise. Can’t lie—it builds me up, but it also terrifies me.
Not sure I can go through that again.
“All of the attention is great, but I don’t know if I’m ready for the shit that comes with it, you know?” I admit.
“I’m guessing you’re not,” Simon says drolly. “And why should you be? The best opportunities are usually surprises. This is where I step in.”
“You want to step in?” More like take over completely. When I was a kid, I had no problem with that. But now? “I never said I was going to hire you.”
“Trust me when I say that you need to. You need someone to manage your career, Tate. Keep you on the right path, line up proper business deals before you get taken advantage of.”
“I’m not the same dumb kid I was,” I remind him, insulted.
“I’m not saying you are. I just know this kind of thing can be... overwhelming. And I don’t want you jumping into the first opportunity you’re offered. You might have some leverage here,” Simon says.
Leverage? Doubtful. I’m a has-been who the ladies are raving about for a brief moment. One of those nostalgic moments because it makes them feel young again or whatever. It’ll last about two seconds before the next big thing comes along.
“I drew up a business plan for you. A strategy that I’d like to put in place before Monday morning. We need to be ready for the onslaught.”
“Onslaught of what?”
Simon shakes his head, making a tsking noise, like he can’t believe I’m so obtuse. “Offers, mate. Have you checked your hashtag on social media? It’s exploding.”
I’m such a dumbass.
Opening up Instagram, I punch in my name and look up the hashtag, my eyes widening as I take in the number. As I check out the top videos, I see they’re all from last night. Me in all black, crooning to the audience. Me grabbing hold of Scarlett in that poufy pink dress, pulling her in for a deeper kiss.
Fuck, that photographer wasn’t the only one who captured our embrace. Looks like other people did too.
Lots of people.
CHAPTER6
SCARLETT
It’s the day after my birthday, and I’m in a bad mood.
