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CHAPTER THREE
“Earth to Quinn!”
My head jolts back as I force my dropped jaw to close. “Huh?” I stammer back to Sylvie over the car’s speakers. “Sorry. I’m still here.”
I’m also here, at Darian Z’s home—castle?—in the Palisades, and already chiding myself for the slack jaw. Why was I expecting something less palatial? And why am I being such a bumpkin about seeing it’s not? Once upon a time, as in just a couple of years ago, I was in and out of estates like this. The homes of friends and mentors, outfitted with private recording studios where we collaborated to turn melodies into hits, and those hits into remixes that were played across the globe.
But all the luxury never really mattered. Not when compared to the magic of creating music.
A life I won’t be returning to. Ever.
The only reason I’ve even shown up tonight is simple. To talk some sense into the man about his long-range public relations plans. Item number one on the list? To make sure he knows that Blanca is the better choice for that big picture.
“Blanca isn’t going to like this.”
But speaking of the fire in the center of the room… Okay technically, the car, not that it matters. Sylvie’s huff digs into the air with the same nerve wracking force. I give back as good as I get with a similar sound.
“Blanca also won’t like it if I fail to get through to this guy and he walks to another PR firm.”
“You won’t fail.”
“Not unless he’s got some different ideas about what full service representation means.”
“Oh God.” Her breath comes back out as a wincing sigh. “Seriously? Maybe I should’ve volunteered as your understudy for this thing.”
I shake my head. Adamantly. “And not taught yourself the golden industry rule because of my mistakes? Spread your contacts and your portfolio, girlfriend, not your legs.”
“Uggghhh,” she moans. “Yes, mother.”
I chuckle. “Say goodnight, missie.”
Another rough sound rumbles across the speakers. “Have fun. Text tonight when you’re home safe, and we can debrief at the office in the morning. I’m headed to bed in an hour. Sunrise palates class waits on nobody.”
I spill a louder laugh. “You’re so crazy.”
“Yeah, well you’re the luckiest bitch in the city.”
I feel everything except lucky while being buzzed past the security gate onto a driveway that could do double-duty as an NBA playing court. I park my leased Mercedes in the vicinity of the visiting team’s key and carefully step out onto the smooth cement driveway. Heels aren’t a hardship for me, but stilettos are. Still, if I’m going to make Darian Z listen, he’s got to observe that I mean business. Time for my power red pantsuit and the only footwear that’ll do it justice.
“I’d say you’re more stunning than tonight’s sunset, but don’t want to end up with a shoe in my eye.”
The greeting, direct from the main entrance of the place, almost has me toppling into one of the tropical planters. Did the man know I’d wedge one of my heels into a crack between his flagstones? Was he counting on it happening right here? Worse, did he know I’d be even more off-guard with the sight of him there, dressed in a black V-neck and matching track pants that are ten times better than his ensemble at the office this afternoon? He’s barefoot too. And there’s a perfect array of hairs along the tops of his sizable pacers.
And why am I even noticing that?
And weathering a sweltering rush of heat because of it?
Oh my God. Do I have a foot fetish now? What other weird shit do I not even know about myself?
I ward off the stupid monologue with a fast bark of a laugh. Luckily, it helps me fling back, “You think I’d dirty these girls with your pretty eye juice?” I gesture to my feet, now fortunately freed from the muck between the stones. “And there’d also be the thing about your fans taking out a hit contract on me.”
His reaction isn’t the answering chuckle I expect. Far from it. “Come in. It’s getting chilly.”
And so is your vibe, buddy.But holy hell, his touch sure isn’t—which I know because he pulls me inside by wrapping a big hand around mine.
And doesn’t relent his grip, even after I’m all the way into the foyer.
“I’ve decanted some wine in the music room. I think it’ll go well with the food.”
