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Ian sighed into the phone. “Anything important happen? Anything aside from the mess with Missy?”
“All your other artists seem to be doing fine. The only calls I’ve gotten in the past few days have been from Missy’s manager. Big surprise. He’s trying to push for a new contract because her numbers have improved.”
“Not for all the tea in China,” Ian said. “If she’s such a hot commodity, let her jump to a new label. There’s got to be someone out there that will take her on her numbers alone. They’re not stellar, but she’s not going to play the fair circuit anytime soon, either.”
He bent down, grabbing the handle of his bag and carrying it into the garage to throw in the back of his Escalade.
“I’ll pass that along,” Keith said. “In the appropriate legal speak,” he added.
“Thanks. I’m hitting the road in about five minutes and I’ll come straight to the office. I need to make a few quick pit stops, but I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Can’t wait for you to come back,” Keith said. “See you soon.”
Ian hung up and went back into the house. Talking to Keith made him feel normal again. His business was what drove his life and he was ready to get back to it.
In the living room, he glanced once more at the guitar. There was no room in his life for it, but he couldn’t bear to leave it behind. Just like with Bree.
In the end, the guitar went in the back of the car with everything else.
Nine
“Wow.” It was all Ian could say.
Bree arched an eyebrow at Ian. “Wow? Really?” She looked down at her outfit in confusion.
“Yeah, wow,” he repeated. She
looked incredible. How did she not know that? He’d expected her to choose something black, slinky but conservative. It was red. Fire-engine red. And lace. The dress had a conservative collar, long sleeves and a hemline just above the knee. Even then, it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. To start, it fit like a glove. It was also sheer. Except for the appropriately placed red fabric panels that ran down the front and back, the rest was see-through. He could see her pale skin peeking through everywhere else, including along each side. Panties...were an impossibility. And his mouth went bone-dry with the revelation.
“It’s new,” Bree said with a shy shrug. “The girls took me shopping and helped me pick it out. Will it be okay for the party? I know you said sparkly, but sparkles aren’t really my thing.”
Ian shook his head furiously. This was way better than sparkles. “This is fine. It’s great. Amazing. You look incredible in it. Actually, we can even skip the party and stay home, you look so good.”
Bree smiled, her bright red lipstick a shock of color against her pale, flawless skin. Her blond waves were pinned back into a chignon at her neck, a few loose strands along her face. She was wearing nude pumps and no jewelry. She didn’t need anything else. She shined like a jewel all on her own.
“You’re not that lucky,” she said. “You promised me a party with rock stars and I intend to have it.”
“If you insist. Are you ready to go?” If she was, they needed to go now, before he changed his mind and ravished her on the gray leather sofa he could see over her shoulder.
“I am.” Bree reached to pick up a nude beaded clutch and stepped out onto her porch. She locked the door and he escorted her to the Escalade.
The party was being held in a Brentwood mansion ten miles outside of the city center. It was the home of former country music star and music producer Luke Chisholm. Luke had made his millions, burned out and dropped out of the music scene for several years. He’d reappeared four years ago, starting his own record label, like Ian. They would’ve been rivals if they didn’t target different artists. Ian was after rock and pop music, a rarity in Nashville. Luke, like so many others, specialized in country and bluegrass music. Because of that, they had developed a friendship, always talking about collaborating with their artists but never getting around to it.
It didn’t take long to get to the party and Ian was glad. Just sitting beside him in the car, Bree was a distraction. The hem of her dress crept higher when she sat in the Escalade, tempting him with creamy thigh for one mile after the next. He almost missed his exit from sneaking peeks of her as he drove.
As they pulled up into the circular driveway of the mansion, they were greeted by a valet. Ian got out of the car, turned over his key, opened Bree’s door and took her arm. They started up the stairs to the entrance.
“So, is this party for something in particular?” Bree asked as they approached the front door.
“Not really. Luke usually throws a party once or twice a year, no occasion. I always try to make it to his. It’s for social mingling, mostly. A little business. There will be a mix of business guys like me, some artists, other industry people...”
“Interesting,” she said, although she didn’t look impressed. “Any drunk karaoke singing?”
Ian chuckled. “No. But with half the music stars of Nashville in attendance, it would be one hell of a performance, drunk or not.”
A man in a tuxedo greeted them at the door and directed them through the marble foyer into the backyard.
“It’s outdoors?” Bree asked with worry furrowing her delicate brow. “I didn’t bring a coat. Or much of a dress, for that matter. Who holds an outdoor party in the winter? This isn’t California.”
