by Marie Carnay
After Brooks fired Daphne, he’d gone back to his office to clear his head. But instead of calm and quiet, he’d gotten a phone call. From the same asshole reporter who published the story. At first he’d blown him off, told him to go straight to hell. But once he forwarded the video…
Brooks watched it again and again. The way those photographers attacked her—descending on her in a swarm and saying all those despicable things. If he’d been with her, they’d be having to deal with a whole lot more than a few paparazzi. He’d be lucky to avoid serious jail time.
Calling her a hooker? A con artist? No one was going to treat Rachel that way and get away with it.
“You’re sure it’s contained this time, right?”
Brooks frowned. “Yes. I’m sure. The lawyers went full-throttle. It took some work, but the firm assured me they contacted each paparazzi who was in the parking lot and obtained all the copies. Video, photos, all of it. They even threatened to prosecute for assault. Some were right up in her face.”
“Good. And the video hasn’t shown up anywhere?”
“No. Not a chance.”
“Then I don’t know what she’s waiting for.” Alec let out an exaggerated sigh. “If that doesn’t show her we’re serious, I don’t know what does.”
Brooks nodded. Killing a story—especially a video that could go viral so easily—was damn near impossible. But they’d done it thanks to money and status and connections. He’d leveraged everything he could, but she still refused to see them.
Each time Brooks called, Melanie answered. Rachel’s not ready yet. Give her some more time. Right. After six days, his patience was gone. He stood up in a huff. Screw it. They’d given her enough space.
He stalked into Alec’s kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed two beers. Rachel needed to remember how she lit up when Brooks wrapped his arms around her. How she cried out in ecstasy when Alec brought her over the edge. She needed to remember what she was giving up. Letting go.
He popped the tops on both bottles and walked back into the living room before handing one to his best friend. “If we don’t do something, I think we’re going to lose her. For good.”
Alec took a swig and glanced up with a scowl. “If you hadn’t tried to handle that reporter all on your own the first time, she’d be here right now. And we wouldn’t be drinking at ten in the morning.”
Brooks rolled his eyes. “I told you. I thought it had been handled. He’d buried the story about Daphne the first time. How was I supposed to know she was the one giving him all the info?”
“You never should have trusted him. Reporters never tell the truth.” Alec stretched out, hooking his arm over the back of his couch before taking a sip of beer. “Maybe she’ll still come around. Once she figures out signing with us is the best thing for her, she’ll call.”
Brooks groaned. “Give it up, Alec. She doesn’t want to sign with us. Not ever. Don’t you get it?”
“Apparently not.”
Brooks shook his head. “I swear, Alec, ever since the IPO, your ego’s swelled to ten times its normal size. You’re not any better now that you’re rich. You’re still the same asshole. Just in a better suit.”
“At least I’ve dressed the part. You’ve done what? Bought a fancy car? Fixed up that shack of a house? It’s no wonder she doesn’t want to be with you.”
Brooks couldn’t believe it. After all they’d been through. “What is it, Alec? Can’t get over that she fell harder for me than she did for you? I might not have wowed her with this fancy house, but I actually listened. Took the time to get to know her. What she wants. Needs.” He drained his beer in one gulp and pointed at Alec with the empty bottle. “You sit there acting like you’ve done nothing wrong, but all of this is your fault.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Lying to Rachel from the beginning about who we were. That was your idea. Pushing the contract on her after she found out the truth. Your idea. Mucking it up with Rich? All you.”
Alec frowned and Brooks pressed harder. To hell with being nice. “Even Daphne was your fault. You’re the one who insisted on hiring her. Not me. Every single strike against us in Rachel’s eyes has been your fault and I’m sick of trying to pick up the pieces.”
Alec opened his mouth, but instead of anger and denial, all that came out was a jagged exhale. Brooks was expecting a fight. A sarcastic jab. Something. Not…defeat. Shit. With a you-win glance, Alec looked away and focused on the beer bottle in his hands. Picking at the edge of the label, he peeled it off in little bits and dropped the pieces on the floor.
Damn it. He’d already lost Rachel. He couldn’t lose Alec too. “Hey, Alec—I’m sorry. That was harsh, I—”
With a shrug, Alec held up his hand. “No. It was the truth. And I needed to hear it.” Alec pushed himself off the couch and walked over to the wall of windows. Brooks followed and they both looked out at the view. A haze of smog blanketed the city, blurring the buildings into the horizon. Brooks couldn’t tell where Los Angeles ended and sky began. The city might as well not be there at all.
“I never thought we’d be here.”
The confession caught Brooks off-guard and he glanced at Alec. “What do you mean?”
“You, me, a woman who wanted both of us. I never thought something like that was possible.”
“What about all the late nights before Falcon? What were those?”
“The closest I thought we’d ever get.” Alec focused on the view and Brooks did the same. If his best friend was finally going to open up, he wasn’t going to spook him.
“You never thought we’d find a woman like Rachel?”
“No. What woman wants to date two men? None we’ve ever come across before. And you—I always thought you’d come to your senses. Find some woman on your own and settle down. You basically said as much after Daphne.”
“It wasn’t the sharing, Alec. I just—I couldn’t do the one-night stands anymore. I want a relationship. Something stable. Real.”
Alec turned toward him and looked him in the eye. “And you want me to be a part of that?”
“If we can convince Rachel to give us another chance, I do.”
“And if we can’t?”
Brooks closed his eyes. He was hoping his friend wouldn’t ask, but Alec deserved to know how Brooks felt, even if it hurt. “Then it’s time to let this whole notion of a threesome go. For good.”
Alec was silent for so long, Brooks opened his eyes and risked a glance. But he still stood in the same spot, staring out into the blur with his hands shoved in his pockets. After a long while, he spoke. “If the article hadn’t come out and Rachel had signed with Avenue, do you honestly think she’d have stayed with us? In a relationship?”
“Yes.” Brooks didn’t doubt it for a second.
With a nod, Alec turned his back on the city and walked toward the hall. As he reached the edge of the living room, he turned around. “I want this to work, Brooks. Rachel, you, me. I don’t want to throw it away.”
Relief flooded Brooks’s veins and he gave his best friend the first smile he’d managed in days. “Then I hope you have a plan. Because we’re going to need a damn good one.”
* * *
“I can’t believe you’re leaving. You’ve only been here a few months.” Melanie pouted and crossed her arms.
“I don’t think I’m cut out for this town, Mel. Not after everything that’s happened.”
“You mean not after you met two of the most amazing men and majorly freaked out.”
Rachel sighed. “No. I mean after being lied to and disappointed. Not to mention almost having a record deal—twice—and then losing it.”
“You could sign with Falcon any time and you know it.”
“I’m not signing with Falcon. Or anyone else. Let’s face it. I’m not meant to be any more than a karaoke singer.” Rachel pulled another shirt out of the pile, folded it, and added it to her suitcase.
She knew it was childish—running aw
ay from Los Angeles because two guys broke her heart—but she couldn’t bear to stay. To drive down Santa Monica Boulevard and remember Brooks gunning it through every green. To look up at the Hollywood sign and remember his arms wrapped around her while they took in the view. To unlock her car and feel the ghost of Alec’s body pressed up against her.
It was all too much and not enough at the same time.
“They’ve tried everything to make it up to you. I don’t know what more you want from them.”
Rachel frowned. “To accept me for who I am.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m just an ordinary woman, Melanie. I eat ice cream and drink beer and drive a beat-up Volvo. I’m not a billionaire’s girlfriend or the next big pop star. If I signed with Falcon, I’d just be their latest conquest. And if I signed with Avenue, I’d be primped and prodded and turned into a stranger. I don’t want any of that. I just want to be me.”
Melanie pushed herself off the couch and walked into the kitchen. “If they didn’t want you for who you are, then they wouldn’t have hushed up the tabloids. That video would have been viral in an hour—you know that.”
Rachel frowned and grabbed another shirt.
“And they wouldn’t have given you space like you asked for, either. They’d have gone all billionaire on you and swooped in with champagne and caviar and tried to wow you into taking them back.” Melanie opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of orange juice.
“Don’t be ridiculous. They decided I wasn’t worth fighting for, that’s all.”
The carton hit the counter with a thud and Rachel jumped. “Okay. This little pity party of yours has gone on long enough. You know damn well that they hounded this place. Brooks called what, every hour? It wasn’t until I threatened a restraining order that he backed off. You want to deny that you’re in love with them, fine. But don’t sit there blaming them because you can’t get over the fact that you’re in love with two men!”
Rachel’s mouth fell open and she stared at her best friend while she poured herself a drink. The juice filled the glass and Rachel exhaled. Was that her problem? Was she mad at herself for falling in love with Alec and Brooks? All this time she’d been blaming them—for her lack of a record deal, for the tabloids, for the lies. But she never once stopped to ask herself if any of that actually mattered.
She bit her lip and stared at her half-full suitcase. “Do you think it’s too late? I mean…Have I ruined my chance with them?”
Melanie shrugged. “There’s always one way to find out.”
* * *
Alec pulled open the door to SunHorse Records and ushered Brooks inside. He’d been there once—years ago when he was still trying to make it as an artist. It was the place for singer-songwriters. He just hadn’t been good enough to get a deal.
With a glance at the waiting room—all warm wood and simple furnishings—Brooks smiled. “Why didn’t I think of this label?”
“Because you were trying to wow her with a big, splashy contract.”
“SunHorse would be perfect. They’d nurture her sound, let her be the artist she wants to be. Not some manufactured new thing.”
“Exactly.”
Brooks glanced at Alec and marveled. A few weeks ago all his partner could see was how to change Rachel—how to make her sound marketable, popular. But now…
“Gentlemen, hello.”
Brooks started and held out his hand. “Mr. Holmes, hello.”
“Call me Fitz. Nice to meet you.” The head of SunHorse shook his hand and smiled before turning to Alec. “Good to see you again, Alec. It’s been too long.”
Alec nodded. “Since last fall, right? Thanks for seeing us on such short notice. I know you’re a busy man.”
Fitz grinned. “Never too busy to poach some fresh talent. Come on back and tell me about this artist.”
They walked through the paneled door and into the hallway. Photos of the label’s artists hung on the wall—each unique and individual. Exactly what Rachel wanted to be. Brooks nodded as Fitz ushered them all into his office. Rachel could thrive there. If they could convince Fitz to sign her.
The head of SunHorse sat behind his desk and looked up at Alec. “So, tell me about her. Why should we want Rachel Madison as an artist?”
Alec grinned ear-to-ear. “Because she’s exceptionally talented. Gorgeous, sexy. All you look for in a solo singer. But I don’t need to sell you on her. She can do that herself.” Alec handed over the demo Rachel had recorded at Falcon and Fitz took it.
A few minutes later, Rachel’s voice was playing through the sound system in the office. No one spoke—all three men just sat there and listened to how she drew out the low notes, hit the high ones without a tremor. She poured her whole soul into her music. At last the demo ended and Fitz let out a whistle.
“She’s talented, that’s for damn sure. So why won’t you sign her?”
Brooks swallowed. It’s exactly the question he’d dreaded to answer. But if this was going to work, it needed to be with all their cards on the table. He glanced over at Alec and then turned to Fitz. “Because we’re in a relationship with her. Conflict of interest.”
Fitz frowned. “I don’t—what do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said, we’re both dating her. Well—we were, anyway.”
“Is it some kind of competition?”
“No. We’re in it together. The three of us.”
Fitz leaned back in his chair. “I’m aware of your reputation, I just never thought…It’s a real relationship, though? Not some liaison?”
Brooks stiffened and Alec took the bait. “No. It’s long-term. A commitment.”
“Wow. And you each are okay with that? You don’t mind her split affection?”
“No.”
Fitz blinked. “I don’t know if I’ve ever met two men as cocky as you willing to be so…accommodating.”
Alec laughed. “She’s worth it.”
“She must be. But, how would this work? She’d be my artist, but your girlfriend? Sounds like a hot mess.”
Brooks spoke up. “We’ll be completely hands-off her career. You know how busy we are running Falcon. We don’t have time to stick our noses in the middle of Rachel’s business life.”
“She’s talented, Fitz. I wouldn’t bring you her demo if she wouldn’t be a good fit for SunHorse.”
Brooks glanced at Alec. The man really had changed. Even a month ago, the old Alec would have swooped in, full of flash and bravado, and tried to bulldoze his way into a deal. Now he was almost humble.
Fitz raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. Your relationship will be news. You’ll be in the spotlight. It won’t all be favorable.”
Brooks nodded. “We know. We’ve already dealt with it to some degree. But we have a team of lawyers and PR. We’ll do our best to minimize the negative publicity.”
Fitz inhaled and glanced up at the ceiling. Brooks knew it was tricky—managing a new artist without sensational baggage was hard enough. But one dating a pair of billionaires? Another league altogether.
Alec sat forward in his chair. “What if we all dealt with it head on? Acknowledged the elephant in the room so that it wasn’t news anymore?”
“What do you mean?”
“We could set up a concert. An introduction for Rachel. You can announce her as your newest artist, she can sign, we can own it that we’re dating her. Shit, I’ll even do a press conference if necessary. That way there won’t be anything to gossip about.”
Fitz furrowed his brow. “There will be plenty to gossip about and you know it.”
“No secrets to uncover, though. And besides, we aren’t the most unusual relationship in the city. Not by a long shot.”
Fitz laughed and the tension in the room eased. “Lucky for you this is Los Angeles.”
“So you’ll sign her?” Brooks held his breath as Fitz thought it over. Say yes.
“I will. SunHorse would be stupid to pass her up. Even with the two of y
ou as baggage.”
Brooks exhaled in relief, but Alec spoke up. “There’s only one catch, Fitz.”
“What’s that?”
“We’re going to need your help convincing her to sign. She hasn’t spoken to us in almost two weeks.”
14
“Why do they want to meet me at Vortex? I’m not even working tonight.” Rachel tugged up her dress and tried not to fidget.
It’d taken her a few days to admit it, but her best friend was right. She was in love with two guys. Who she’d basically iced out of her life in every possible way. God, she could be such an idiot. After a heart-to-heart with herself and a mocha, she’d mustered up the courage and texted Brooks. Lame, she knew, but if he ignored her? Shut her out? A hundred times better to read it than to hear it.
Thank god he’d texted back right away. Vortex. Friday night. 8:00 p.m. Meet us there. She couldn’t figure out why they wanted to meet at a bar, but it was a chance. And the last time…Mmm. So she’d dressed up. Done hair and makeup. Downed a shot.
“Maybe they plan to drag you into a back room and have their way with you.” Melanie giggled as she turned the corner.
Rachel blushed and looked out the window. She’d never admit it out loud, but part of her hoped that was the truth. Melanie pulled into the parking lot and Rachel frowned. “What’s with all the cars? Is there some hot band here tonight?”
“Frank didn’t mention a band, no.”
Melanie maneuvered her car into a scrunched space at the end of the lot and Rachel clambered out. “Well, whoever it is, I hope the show’s worth it. This gravel’s going to ruin my shoes.”
Her best friend laughed and hooked her arm in Rachel’s. “Oh, it’ll be worth it. Trust me.”
They walked up to the door and Rachel squinted. Instead of the usual crowd milling around and dingy neon blinking on and off, a woman with a clipboard and a walkie talkie stood at the front. She hadn’t seen that since…Oh my god. Rachel turned to Melanie with wide eyes. “What the hell is going on?”
