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His eyes swirl with doubt and regret. It’s like I’m staring at myself ten years ago. Or Henry. We both made mistakes that seemed to weigh on us for far longer than they should have. I let my mistakes—and the mistakes of others—trap me and steal from me. The thought of this kid’s talent being wasted for mistakes he made doesn’t sit right.
“Man, I was in prison because of my mistakes. I fucked the wrong girl, and I paid dearly. Her father made sure no one will sign me. The only reason I have a job here is because a friend of a friend of a friend knows the owner.”
“Did you do it? Did you steal all that money and run to California?” I already know the answer. Gossip has floated through the industry for a couple of years now. He’s right. Every label owner in the country knew Maverick Slater was untouchable. Worse still, every venue in the country knew as well. He was right. HE was blackballed, and they made certain it wasn’t something he’d ever recover from without massive help, labeling him a womanizer, a drug addict, and, worst of all, a thief.
Rumor had it he stole a hell of a lot of money from someone very powerful. Maverick denied it at first, but in the end, he just accepted he would not win the battle. I’m not sure he expected that acceptance to land him in prison for eighteen months.
“No, I didn’t fucking do it. Look, the old man offered me a fat sum, but it sure as fuck wasn’t half a million. I knew it was a payoff and turned him down. But then…” His head drops as he shakes it. “Anyway, I went back and told him I agreed. It was the biggest lie I ever told, and I shouldn’t have taken it. But I thought it was my chance…”
“Your chance?”
His lips tuck between his teeth, refusing to say more. He doesn’t have to. I know everything, and what was done to him was bullshit. It’s also part of why Maddox sent me, but there’s no denying the guy’s talent. “They want you, Maverick. They want to sign you.”
“Again, why? Who are they to risk pissing off…”
“They’re the type that don’t care who they piss off. They only care about the music.” I’m trying desperately not to give away who I work for, even going so far as to avoid saying the label name. Those dumbasses made sure everyone would know who ran things, even if that’s not what they intended, and the second this kid puts two and two together, there’s no way he’ll agree. I need him on the plane, preferably in the building, before he finds out.
“Well, good luck creating a successful label with that attitude.” Sarcasm oozes from him as he chuckles. “It took me six months to figure out the music comes second to the bottom line.”
“Don’t worry about that.” I try to be vague, but I can see his suspicion rising. I only hope the kid isn’t a Google fan. Approaching him, hoping he didn’t recognize me and put the pieces together, was a gamble that’s paid off so far. It seems he hasn’t kept up with industry news. Why would he? Most people don’t know the names or faces of artists’ managers and agents. He shouldn’t be an exception. But that didn’t make it any less of a risk. “I’ll be here for a few days. Think about it. If you want to give it a shot, let me know, and you’ll be on the jet back to New York with me.”
He nods and huffs. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”
I lean back on the heavy stool and grin. “All I ask, kid.”
“Kid?” His brow lifts in a challenge.
I laugh. “To me, everyone is a kid.”
“Dude, you like what… thirty-something? Not that much older than me.”
“You’re right.” I duck my head and grin. “I’ve just had to be a grownup for longer than most people my age. You’re only five years older than my daughter.”
“Well, damn. All right then, old man, I’ll think about it.”
I grab a French fry from my basket and toss it in my mouth. “You do that.”
“Testing, testing.”
I turn and spot walking sex in tight jeans, a cropped top, and thigh-high boots—I swear she wears those things on purpose—standing in front of the microphone. My lips press together to contain my groan.
“So-um… What’s her deal?” Maverick asks.
My eyes cut to him. The way he’s staring at her is expected, but it doesn’t make me want to remove his eyeballs any less. “Deal?” I do my best not to growl.
“She single?”
I lean across the bar and gesture for him to come closer. When he does, I grip the back of his neck and drop my mouth, so only he hears my words. “She is off-limits.”
I release him, and he moves away from me, his mouth twitching as his palms come up. “Got it.”
When I look back at her, she’s glaring at me. Yeah, she knows what just happened.
But her glare turns to a silent plea for instruction.
This trip has several purposes. The guy behind the bar is the priority, but there are a few other acts I needed to see, including a few I had my eye on for Lily.
The band on stage with her is the one we heard last night. My teeth grind thinking about it. All night long, she kept six feet away from me as we listened to the different performers like I was contagious. When we strode back to the hotel at 3 AM, she ran to her room like her ass was on fire. Or maybe it was her pussy.
