by Marie Carnay
Thank god they’d been able to bury any talk about the three of them back then. Any bad press at launch could have been fatal. Now…They’d weather the storm. But he had no idea how Daphne’d take it. With a deep breath, he knocked on her door. A muffled reply later and he let himself in.
“Good morning, Daphne. We need to talk.”
She glanced up from her computer and cocked her head. “I was wondering which one of you would show up. Funny, I figured it’d be Alec.”
“And why is that?”
She batted her lashes, smiled, and his brain filled with memories. Meeting her in the club that night—hands all over him, begging for some action. Part of him wished he’d never met her.
“Because he’s the one the article’s about.”
He eased into her guest chair and glanced up at the walls. Copies of albums filled every inch. All artists she’d signed and who’d established Falcon as a formidable player in the scene. She’d been a big reason for their success. “You and I are in the photo, too, Daphne.”
“What? You mean the one with me? Pfft.” She waved him off. “That’s old news, Brooks. No one cares about that.”
“I care. Rachel cares.”
“Rachel?” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “You mean that subpar singer Alec paraded around the other night? Please. What was he doing setting her up with Avenue anyway? She’s nowhere close to their league.”
“Excuse me?” Brooks blinked. He couldn’t have heard her right.
“What? Don’t tell me you think she’s got talent.”
“I know she does.”
She rolled her eyes and Brooks sat a bit straighter in the chair. “Come on, Brooks. You know she’s just whoring herself out for a record contract.”
Did she not know they were together? All three of them? “Daphne, you need to—”
She waved at him to stop talking again and he wanted to yank her pink polished nails right out of the air. “I know. It’s none of my business. If Alec wants to screw some fresh talent, fine. But don’t you be swayed by her tits and ass, too. She’s just using his connections to sign with the biggest label in town. It’s leapfrog, Brooks, plain and simple.”
He opened his mouth and clamped it shut. Never once had Daphne been so vocal and dismissive of a potential artist before. It didn’t make any sense. And she clearly had no idea he was involved with her too. Which…he could use. Maybe figure out what the hell was going on.
With a nod, he swallowed down his anger and played along. “You seriously think Rachel’s using Alec to land a deal with Avenue?”
She smiled, smug and confident. “That’s what she was doing. Until this morning.”
“You don’t know anything about Rachel. Or Alec’s relationship with her.”
She rolled her eyes and picked up her coffee. “Come on, Brooks. I know how the world works. She came onto him, got her hooks in him, and now she’s using him to get what she wants. It’s obvious.”
He pushed himself out of the chair and frowned. Where did her naked hostility come from? Why would she be so cruel? He paced her office while she sipped her coffee until a light bulb went off. Brooks turned to her mid-stride. “That’s what you did, isn’t it, Daphne?”
The cup paused halfway to her mouth. “I’m sorry?”
“Did you come onto us in that club to get a job here?”
She took a sip and smiled over the white rim. “And what if I did?”
“Then you shouldn’t be casting so many stones.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t use you or Alec to get a better deal. I wanted to be here, at Falcon. Not somewhere else. Besides, it’s all for the best. Now Alec will have to end this silly little affair, she can go back to whatever rock she crawled out from under, and it’ll be business as usual.”
“It’s not a silly affair, Daphne.” He couldn’t believe it. She basically admitted to sleeping her way into the job. Using them like she accused Rachel of doing. One would think she’d approve.
“Then what is it?”
He ran his hand over his hair and turned around. An ad poster for one of Daphne’s recent acquisitions hung on the door—a boy band with coiffed hair and vacant stares. Nothing like Rachel. Brooks swallowed. “I don’t know what it is. But it’s not a lark. And it’s not just between Rachel and Alec.” He turned back around and looked her in the eye. “I’m involved with her too.”
Daphne’s mouth fell open. “You’re what?” It came out in a whisper and Brooks frowned.
“We’re all…seeing each other. It’s not just a one-night stand this time. It’s a—relationship. A real relationship.”
“You’re all three in a relationship? How serious is it? I mean…you’re not…you don’t…”
He raised an eyebrow and grinned despite her shocked face. “It’s serious. That’s why I contacted Avenue. She should sign with another label so she’s not conflicted. So she can date us and not feel like she slept her way into a record contract.”
Daphne opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She sat there, her mouth gaping open and shut like a fish thrown onto land, and Brooks frowned.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“I—I’m sorry, Brooks.”
His heart sped up and he eased himself back into the guest chair. “Daphne. Did you do something?”
She nodded with saucer-wide eyes.
Shit. Brooks leaned forward and tried to look calm. Accessible. “Just tell me, Daphne.”
“I—I didn’t know. I thought it was just…a dalliance. One of Alec’s distractions.” She fidgeted with her nails, picking at the polish but refusing to say another word.
After a few minutes, he cursed under his breath. If she’d gone and screwed up their relationship or Rachel’s chance at another label somehow…He needed to know. Immediately. With his stare focused dead on her, Brooks ground out his question. “What. Did. You. Do.”
Her eyelids fluttered and she met his gaze. “I leaked the story. I was the source.”
“You?”
“Not for all of it. The reporter came to me with the photo from the restaurant. I provided the other one.”
Holy hell. Brooks fell back in the chair like she’d punched him in the chest. “You? The photo of the three of us fucking in the hallway? That was you?”
She nodded.
“Why?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t think it would hurt me any. If potential artists believe we’re screwing, it means I’ve got an in. I’m close to the owners. Artists respect that.”
He snorted. “What about me and Alec?”
She laughed, but it was cold and empty. “Everyone knows your reputation.”
“And Rachel?”
“I didn’t give her a second thought. I assumed—I still think she’s using you, Brooks. Both of you.” He started to stand, but she held out her hand. “Don’t you see? I did for you and Alec. To get your head back in the game. Falcon needs the two of you focused. Not out screwing potential new talent every night.”
He barked out a laugh to match hers. It finally all made sense. “Is that why you’ve stopped bringing us female artists? You think we’ll just start screwing them and ruin the label?”
“Look what happened as soon as you found one.”
Brooks shook his head in wonder. She was more conniving that he’d ever given her credit for. And not the kind of employee they needed at Falcon. He stood up and met her defiant stare. “Pack your stuff, Daphne. I want you out in an hour.”
“What!” She slammed her cup on the desk and coffee sloshed over the edge. “You’re firing me?”
“Yes. Your career at Falcon is over.”
“I stuck my neck out for you! Let that reporter put my naked ass in his paper! Screwed you in that nasty bar. You can’t do this to me!” Her voice turned shrill and her features contorted in rage.
Unbelievable. “Then maybe you should have thought about your reputation before you tried to ruin Rachel
’s.” He walked to the door and tugged it open. “You have an hour, Daphne. Then I’m calling security.”
* * *
“You think they’re gone yet?”
“No. They’re like ants. Once a few show up, they’ve got a trail and you can’t ever get them out.”
Rachel bit her lip and stuck her head out of the window, trying to see the front of her building. When they’d discovered the throng of paparazzi, Melanie’d just gunned the gas and kept driving. She’d passed them by without slowing down. An hour later and their coffees were empty and Rachel needed a shower something fierce. “Maybe I should go to a hotel.”
“With what money?”
She sighed. “The kind I don’t have.”
“You could call Alec. Or Brooks. They’ll know what to do.”
“No. I am not calling either one of them. I left to clear my head. If I go running back, I’ll never figure out what I need to do.”
“I don’t understand why you’re hesitating at all. They seem great and you like them. What’s holding you back?”
“We’ve been through this, Mel. How can I date two men? At the same time?”
“You seem to be doing just fine so far.”
“What about my career?”
“Is getting a contract that important?”
“Of course it is. It’s everything. It’s why I came to L.A. It’s why I dumped Darren. It’s why I’m tending bar at Vortex and sleeping on your couch. I can’t throw all that away to be a ping-pong between two billionaires.”
“No matter how much you want to?”
Rachel blushed. She did want to. Desperately. But the thought of abandoning her music…Could she do it? Could she say goodbye to her dream to be with Alec and Brooks? She sighed and glanced out the window again. “I don’t know.”
“Well, then let’s not dwell on what ifs. You haven’t even heard back from that Garrett guy yet. Maybe he’s drawing up the contract as we sit here.”
“Right.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t—” Rachel’s phone rang mid-sentence and she glanced at the screen. “Oh my god! Melanie, it’s Avenue Records.”
“Answer it!”
She nodded and turned it on speaker. “Rachel Madison.”
“Ms. Madison, hello. This is Terrence Williams, General Counsel for Avenue Records.”
Her eyes went wide and she looked up at Melanie. This can’t be good. “Hello, Mr. Williams.”
“I am calling to discuss the article that appeared this morning in several news outlets.”
“Yes, sir.”
“It appears that some false and potentially defamatory statements have been made in the press concerning Mr. Garrett. We are handling them expeditiously.”
Rachel shook her head. Between her nerves and the coffee, she was too amped up to process his words. “I had nothing to do with the story, Mr. Williams. If that’s why you’re calling, I was shocked to see it this morning. I’m still shocked, to be honest.”
The attorney was silent for a moment and Rachel cringed. God, what they must think of her.
At last he spoke. “I see. So that you are aware, Ms. Madison, the article is being removed from all outlets within the hour. There are strict instructions regarding a retraction for all accusations related to Mr. Garrett.”
“O-kay.”
The attorney paused again and Rachel couldn’t take it. Were they going to give her a contract? Were they going to come after her? What about Mr. Garrett? She needed to know. “About Mr. Garrett…Will I be hearing from him anytime soon?”
“No, Ms. Madison.” The tone of his voice left no doubt. “Based on this morning’s events, Avenue will no longer be able to have any interactions with you at all.”
“None?”
“None.”
“What if—” Melanie reached out and patted Rachel’s arm. She crumpled in her seat. “I understand.”
The last syllable warbled as she spoke and she bit back a wave of tears. All she’d done—the move, the new life, the crappy job—all to give herself a chance at success. She wanted to sing at the Troubadour and have an album for fans to buy. Real fans who followed her music and sang her songs back to her at each show. And she’d ruined it by falling into bed with Alec and Brooks.
“A piece of advice, Ms. Madison?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’d find a new job. One not in the music industry.”
She choked on a laugh. “Of course. Thank you.” She scrubbed her face with her hand and picked up her phone. “If you speak with Mr. Garrett, could you thank him for taking the time to meet with me? I would appreciate it.”
“Certainly. And Ms. Madison?”
“Yes?”
“Best of luck to you.”
She ended the call and tossed the phone in her bag. “Why did I move here again?”
“To become the next big star.”
“Well, I can kiss that dream goodbye.”
“What are you talking about? You are doing no such thing.”
Rachel glanced at her best friend. “Avenue turned me down. I can’t sign with Falcon. Who else is going to touch me? No one, that’s who. I might as well move back home and beg Darren to take me back.”
“That is ridiculous and you know it. Just because Avenue turned you down, doesn’t mean you can’t get a record deal. There are a million labels out here. Shit, Rach, if you walked up and down Santa Monica you’d probably find two dozen. Someone will sign you.”
“But I’m always going to be that girl. The one who slept with those label heads. Everyone will think I used them to get a record deal.”
“Not if you don’t sign with them. And the idiot reporter didn’t even get it right. You’re not sleeping with that jerk from Avenue. You’re all Falcon, honey.”
Rachel snorted and rolled her eyes. “That’s not making me feel any better.”
“Well, it should. Now, we should park and you should march right through that row of paparazzi. You need a shower. You’re kind of beginning to smell.” Melanie waved her hand in front of her face and started the engine.
“Fine. Let’s get it over with. How much worse can today get, anyway?”
They pulled into the parking lot and before she could even get out of the car, someone spotted her. Damn it. “They’re coming.”
“Just play it cool and act like a celebrity. They just duck and push their way through, right?”
“I guess.” Rachel followed Melanie’s advice and shoved the door open.
“Hey, baby. What’s it like to bang two record execs? You give them a taste of that sugar?”
She closed her eyes and slammed the door shut. I can do this. Just ignore them. Melanie got out on the other side, but as soon as Rachel tried to move, she lost sight of her. Great.
Another guy with a camera spoke up and she focused on the pavement. “You screw them both at the same time? Is that what they teach you up in NorCal?”
A deep breath, another few steps. Don’t engage.
“With an ass like that, I bet you could take all the big labels. Did you ride ’em like a cowgirl? Bounce that big butt up and down until you broke the mattress?”
Keep walking. They’re just trying to get to you.
“I bet you can’t even hit a note. You do it for the money, honey? Did they pay you for a good time? I bet you’re just a cheap hooker with a drug habit, aren’t ya?”
That’s it. It was one thing to pick on the size of her butt or her choice in who to sleep with. But her music? No way. She whipped around and her gaze lit on the sleazy bastard with the DSLR who’d made the comment. He pointed the lens right at her makeup-free face and she scowled.
“You have a mouth like that, I’m surprised someone famous hasn’t punched it shut.”
“Come on, Rachel. We know you did it for the money. Someone put you up to it? Another label? You ever even sing a note?”
Her anger tipped over into rage and she couldn’t hold back anymore. Her lips and voice took over and her brain
saw red. “Listen, you punk-ass little shit, I’m a singer. A damn good singer. And I didn’t sleep with Alec or Brooks to get a fucking record deal, okay? I did it because I wanted to! And do you know what? It was fun! And I like them. A whole hell of a lot. So sorry if I don’t fit your stupid little idea of what it takes to be a star or sexy or someone’s girlfriend. But I am! So screw you!”
She spun around and the sea of paparazzi parted. Thank god. Melanie stood at the door to the building waving like a mad woman and she marched toward her with determined steps. As she ducked inside, someone in the crowd called out. “What about Rich Garrett?”
She didn’t even turn around. “What about him?”
“Did you screw him too? Or did the reporter get it wrong?”
Oh, god, what did I say? She glanced up at Melanie and shouted back at the crowd. “It’s none of your damn business!”
The door swung shut and her best friend grabbed her by the shoulders.
“What the hell was all that, Rachel?”
“I don’t know. I just—they made me so mad! And I couldn’t see you anywhere, and there were so many of them. I let it all go until they claimed I couldn’t sing. Then…I snapped.” Rachel scrunched up her face and glanced outside. “Was it awful?”
Melanie winced. “I’m pretty sure they got it on video.”
Of course they did.
13
“It’s been almost a week, Alec. We have to do something.”
Alec glanced at him from the couch. Hooded eyes, scruffy beard, mussed up hair. The man looked more strung out than Brooks had ever seen him. “I thought you said she needed time.”
Brooks sighed. “We’ve given her plenty. And what’s it gotten us?”
“An empty bed.”
Waiting for Rachel to call or stop by or even tell them to go to hell had been agony. They’d holed up in Alec’s place, prowling the halls like lions in a cage. Waiting and hoping. Brooks rubbed his eyes before propping his head in his hands. “We even killed the video, but nothing. She still won’t take my calls.”
