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“Ian just basically said he wants another chance at me.” I lift my head to meet Rachel’s troubled gaze. “He’s still interested.”
Rachel groans, throwing herself backward on my bed so she’s lying across it, staring up at the ceiling. “He’s lying to you. He just likes theideaof you pining away for him. That’s it. He’ll never actually get together with you.”
“You don’t know that,” I say, mildly offended.
I refuse to let her negativity get me down.
My bedroom door swings open, my father peeking around the edge with a cheesy grin on his face. “Oh, Scarlett, you have a visitor.”
Frowning, I glance over at Rachel, who immediately sits up. “Who is it?”
“Tate Ramsey.”
CHAPTER9
TATE
Fuck, this place is unbelievable.
They live on the Upper East Side because of course they do. And they live on the top floor of the building, in the penthouse apartment. The views are spectacular, nothing but New York City skyscrapers as far as the eye can see.
If I lived here, I’d never leave. You don’t have to. I’m guessing their every need is attended to, and they have more money than they could ever spend.
Wonder what that’s like. Living without a care in the world about your finances. Spending however much you want, whenever you want.
Once upon a time, I was a dumb kid who had the world by the balls and spent my money like it was never going to run out. I had no clue what I was actually making. All I knew was that I’d made it.
I was rich.
Now, looking back on that period of my life, I know I was nowhere close.
Simon says I’m close to living that dream once again—and it’s possible I’ll make even more money and have bigger success. After Roger left, we talked for almost two hours, strategizing. Going over the contract. Making a few changes that he sent to Roger to look over.
I haven’t heard back from Simon yet, but he finally told me to go meet with Scarlett and try to convince her to be my girlfriend. Like it’ll be that easy.
“Whatever it takes, Tate,” he said, his voice and his expression dead serious. “In order for this record deal to happen, in order to get another chance at making music for a living, you need that girl by your side.”
Don’t get me wrong. I asked Simon to get that stupid clause dropped from the contract, but he said it was a risky move. And while he normally loves a challenge, he wants to stay on the safe side of this deal. Doesn’t want to fuck it up in any way—direct quote.
So here I am, showing up at Scarlett’s apartment like she’s actually my girlfriend. I knew her dad would let me up when the security guy at the front desk of their building called him, and I was right. Fitzy likes me.
“Saw those photos of you and my daughter,” Fitzy says as he drifts over to the bar in the corner of their spacious living room and starts preparing himself a drink. “Not too sure how I feel about them.”
“What exactly do you mean?” I ask, my voice cautious.
“I mean, what are your intentions with my little girl?” He turns to face me, his expression downright stern. “You might look at her in a different light, but she’s my baby. My firstborn. I don’t need some arrogant asshole sliding into her world and fucking it all up.”
“I don’t plan on fucking her life up.” I stand up taller. “Sir.”
He contemplates me, his jaw working, his eyes blazing as they stare me down. I don’t fold under his consideration, and when he finally blinks, I realize I’ve pretty much got him. “That’s good to know.”
I sag with relief when he turns toward the bar once more, filling the crystal tumbler he just grabbed with perfectly round spheres of ice. “Want something to drink?”
“No thank you.”
Fitz glances over his shoulder. “Recovering alcoholic, right?”
“Recovering addict, yes.” I shrug when he continues to stare. “I was young, I did drugs and alcohol, and I grew out of control. When I came home with my tail between my legs, my mom tossed me in rehab.”
