Troublemaker (Songbird #6)

by Melissa Pearl

  It was a battle not to feel like a scruffy hobbit next to her. The heels she was wearing gave her at least four inches on me. I didn’t know how the hell she walked in those things, but they made her legs a mile long.

  I cleared my throat as she stopped in front of me. “You look…” I gazed into her eyes and smiled. “Beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” She was used to hearing that. I could tell by her glazed expression and the polite way she tipped her head.

  “So.” I clicked my fingers and smacked my hands together. “Should we get going?”

  “Of course.” Her smile was demure and checked.

  I followed her to the elevator, studying her out of the corner of my eye. Her shoulders were tense. There was something holding her back, like she was trying to keep it together. I wanted to chip away at her irritating affectations, bring her around to the giggling, carefree girl on our Disneyland date, but I had a sinking feeling it was going to take a little more effort. I was entering her world, and the terrain would no doubt be harder to navigate.

  We caught a taxi to the restaurant. I couldn’t figure out why we hadn’t taken one of our cars but chose not to question it. Maybe she didn’t want someone on her side of town recognizing her car, or maybe she planned on getting us both drunk.

  The host led us through a flashy restaurant—all white, starched tablecloths and wine glasses the size of fruit bowls. I counted six pieces of cutlery as I took my seat and knew I was in trouble. How the heck was I supposed to impress this girl when I felt like a poor mouse in a room full of jewel-clad felines?

  Kelly gave me an assessing look before she opened her narrow menu. There were like eight things on it and no prices. A place with no prices on the menu meant the food cost a bazillion dollars. I sweated it out as I made my choice. The gentleman in me would offer to pay when we left. The mortgage owner in me was slashing at dollar signs.

  I adjusted my tie as I scanned the choices.

  What the hell was champagne citrus beurre blanc?

  “Is there…um, anything you’d recommend?” Trying to sound like I knew what I was doing would have been a joke.

  Kelly smirked. “It’s probably safest if you stick with the steak.”

  “Okay.” I had to push the word out of my mouth. What I really wanted to say was, “How much do you think that will cost? One mortgage payment? Or maybe just this month’s electrical bill.”

  Kelly took her sweet time deliberating while I fiddled with my forks, lining them up precisely along the bottom edges.

  The waiter appeared with a bright smile. His white shirt and black pants were spotless, and he stood with his hands behind his back, ready to take our order. I went for the steak, and Kelly chose some fish thing that sounded awful. She also picked a bottle of red wine. I didn’t recognize the name or brand but put on a suitably impressed face when it was served and I tasted it.

  Kelly’s tongue skimmed her lower lip as she gently placed her wineglass down. I scanned the patrons, wondering what they were talking about.

  Leaning across the table, I tried to start up a game of “What do you think those people do for a living,” but my elbow caught on the cutlery and I ended up knocking my spoons to the floor. They clattered on the polished wood, drawing all eyes to the table. My cheeks flamed and I ducked down to collect everything, rubbing the spoons with my napkin before lining them up again. The waiter appeared with a bemused smile, offering me a full set of clean cutlery and removing the offending pieces.

  “I guess the five-second rule doesn’t apply here, huh?” He didn’t even pop a half-grin at my jest. I made a face at Kelly. Her lips fought a smile, but she pulled them into line. Classical music floated around us, a soft aria that was quite pleasant.

  “So…” I smoothed down my tie. “How was work?”

  It was a lame-ass question and we both knew it. Even so, Kelly answered it, and we ended up talking shop for a while. Chaos was currently in San Francisco performing to a big crowd.

  I checked my watch. “They’ll be starting their first set any minute now.”

  It’d been tempting to go up and be with them, but exec had told me to stay in LA until the band went out of state. I would be allowed to accompany them to Las Vegas and get them set up once they were officially on the road and traveling by bus. I was still on call while they were up in San Fran, but so far, they hadn’t needed me. It was more important that I remained in LA to deal with Caris anyway.

  “How’s that going?” Kelly asked. “I haven’t been fielding any Caris calls lately.”

  I shook my head. “She’s been kind of quiet this week, after the hotel incident. But she’ll be in studio on Tuesday and I haven’t fired Garrett like she asked me to, so there’ll no doubt be hell to pay when that happens.”

  “Caris.” Kelly shook her head and flashed me a sympathetic smile.

  I nodded. “Caris, sweet Caris. I’d like to send her to Paris with a no-return label on her ass.”

  Kelly snorted then slapped a hand over her mouth, ducking her head so no one could see her laughing. Her shoulders shook, and I grinned as I watched her try to compose herself. The waiter appeared with our food. It smelled expensive, which only added to my triumph of making Kelly snort with laughter.

  She sat up and gave him a demure smile before collecting her cutlery and acting as though she’d never even cracked a grin at my rhyme.

  I narrowed my eyes as I watched her. She sat like a true lady, cutting her meal into minuscule bites and using all the etiquette of a highbrow woman. She sipped her wine and we talked some more, about mundane things that had no depth or flavor. By the end of the meal, she was bored out of her wits. I could see it in her masked sighs and the way her eyes lost focus when she was telling me about Milan fashion week.

  I reached across the table and touched her hand. “What are you doing?”

  “Excuse me?” She leaned away from me, tucking her hands beneath the table.

  With a sigh, I took the napkin off my knee and wiped my mouth. “You told me that you were going to take me out and show me what a real date should look like.”

  “Which is what I’m doing.” Her swan-like neck extended as she raised her chin at me.

  “So, you mean to tell me that this is how to win a girl over? You take her to some restaurant where everyone around you is hyper-aware of what everyone around them is doing? It’s so quiet in here, you can barely crack a smile without someone hearing your lips move.”

  Her nostrils flared. “Are you saying my date’s not good enough for you?”

  “No, I’m saying it’s not good enough for you. You’re bored out of your brain.” I liked the way her skin blanched when I called her on her bullshit. “You can’t possibly tell me that you are having more fun now than you did at Disneyland.”

  Her lips pursed into a slight duck face, and she looked away from me.

  “Frankly, Kelly, I’m a little disappointed. You talked a big game, and I was expecting a little more than some hobnob dinner where we talked about work and things that don’t interest you.”

  Her eyebrow arched in time with the curl of her lips.

  Encouraged by the twinkle in her eye, I leaned forward and whispered, “Come on, admit it. This isn’t your ideal date. Now, if it’s not the happiest place on earth, where is it? Show me what the perfect date looks like to Kelly. Not the daughter of Enrique DeMarco, but the friend of crazy Isla and Scarlett. Show me what that girl does for fun.”

  She stayed statue-still for three long beats then her face started fighting another grin. Her nose twitched, and her teeth brushed over her bottom lip. I would have loved to know what was going through her brain in that moment. It was like she was fighting some inner voice. I watched the battle rage over her expression before she finally let out a huff and grinned.

  “Fine. Let’s get out of here.” She picked the napkin off her knee and plonked it on the table. Tinkling her fingers in the air, she summoned the waiter and bobbed her knee while we waited for t
he check.

  “I can get that.” I reached for the padded folder when it arrived, but Kelly snatched it from my hand as soon as the waiter left. “I thought I was taking you out tonight.” She winked and my heart tripped over itself.

  Half an hour later, Kelly tugged me out of the taxi and we entered a thumping club with flashing lights and a dance floor filled with gyrating bodies.

  “Scarlett’s boyfriend mixes here some nights.” She pointed to a stage stuffed with electronic equipment. A guy with a teased-out afro was jamming in front of the sound board, swiveling his fingers on the record discs and amping up the crowd. “Oh, and she loved the Chaos posters, by the way. I lost hearing in my ears for about thirty minutes after her excited screaming. Thanks for that.” She squeezed my forearm and winked at me. My heart tried to bust right out of my chest. I’m sure it showed when I smiled at her.

  She dipped her head and moved away from me. I followed her, and we wove through the tables to find a spot near the dance floor before shedding our jackets. Kelly was beaming. An intoxicating glow emanated from her as she gazed at the dancers. Beautiful didn’t cut it. There was no word invented to describe how amazing she looked.

  I leaned toward her and shouted, “Do you want a drink?”

  She shook her head and slipped off her heels. “I just want to dance.” Her expression gave away the fact I’d just discovered her guilty pleasure.

  As if the music gods heard her, “Shut Up and Dance” exploded out of the sound system. She turned to me and mouthed the opening line. I pointed at her and mouthed the response. Her smile was electrifying as she tipped her head to the dance floor and sang, “Shut up and dance with me.”

  I followed her swaying hips onto the floor and nearly melted when she lifted her arms and spun to face me. Her lithe body was hypnotizing and her eyes were alive, a sparkling ocean on a crystal-clear morning. I stepped into her space and started dancing with her, laughing as she threw her head back and whooped. The chorus kicked back in, and she rested her arms on my shoulders and mouthed the words again. I joined her and we laughed our way through the song. The beat pulsed through us, an electrifying narcotic that made me dizzy. I took her hand and spun her around. Her hair fanned out like a glossy satin sheet in the wind, and then she was in front of me again. The music dropped away to a light beat, and I pulled her against me. The look in her eyes shifted. She gazed at me like she was noticing something she never had before. Her breath teased my skin while her long fingers played with the back of my hair. All I could do was watch the way her lips moved as she mouthed the first line of the chorus. I responded, saying, “You’re holding back,” and then she pressed her lips to mine.

  They were warm and enticing, a sensation explosion that took over my entire body. I ran my hands around her waist, palming her lower back as she tipped her head and deepened the kiss. She tasted like the mints we’d eaten on the way out of the restaurant. The heat from her tongue as it brushed against mine made the world spin away. I closed my eyes, entranced, and lost myself to everything but the feel of the girl I’d always wanted in my arms and making out with me.

  The song came to a pulsing end but flowed straight into “Better When I’m Dancin’” by Meghan Trainor. We didn’t even notice. The crowd surged around us and we stayed put, exploring each other’s tongues while the music pulsed and swayed. Kelly’s hips started moving beneath my arms, and I could feel her smiling as she started dancing and kissing me. I chuckled into her mouth and joined her, molding my body against hers. We moved to the beat together, smiling and kissing the night away.

  Things didn’t fall apart until we got back to Torrence Records and I made a move I thought I’d be proud of. But it left me feeling like a world-class fool.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Kelly

  My cheeks burned with humiliation as I drove up my parents’ driveway. I lightly rubbed them, willing the color to ebb from my skin. I was infuriated with myself. I shouldn’t have been sparing Marcus Chapman a second thought, but I couldn’t get our stupid date out of my head.

  Every aspect of it taunted me through my sleepless night and plagued me all the next day. I pulled the car to a stop and gripped the wheel, forcing air in through my nostrils.

  He’d rejected me. The guy who had hounded me in high school, bugged me at work until I’d finally relented, had fucking turned me away!

  I slapped the wheel and jolted back against the leather.

  Tears scorched my eyes as I fought for composure. My mother would see right through me if I didn’t pull it together. She couldn’t know the story. She’d be absolutely mortified by my behavior. A lady did not take a man out to dinner and then pay. She most certainly did not dance in a nightclub, let alone barefoot, and then spend half the time making out with her boss…a guy she wasn’t attracted to.

  “Oh, would you shut up!” I snapped at myself.

  Memories of his tongue in my mouth completely erased my non-attracted lie. Marcus’s hands on my body had been freaking hot, which was why I’d suggested we take things back to his place.

  He’d chuckled between my hungry kisses, easing away to look into my eyes. I must have flashed him a nervous grin or something because when I tried to dive back into another kiss, he wouldn’t let me. He held me at arm’s length and gave me a sweet smile.

  “We don’t have to do this tonight.”

  “Yes, we do.” I pushed against him, trying to close the gap. “Come on, let’s make it a night to remember.”

  “It has been a night to remember.” He grinned. “And I don’t want to take things further unless you really want that, too.”

  “I wouldn’t be kissing you if I didn’t!” Shouting that line at him was probably another giveaway.

  He stepped right back from me then, running his hands through his hair and giving me a sad smile. “Kelly, I want this, but not if it’s a one-night stand. I don’t want you having any regrets in the morning.”

  I’d had no response. I couldn’t reply with, “Of course I won’t,” because it wasn’t the truth. The nightclub had made me drunk with its music and pulsing beat, then Marcus’s chivalry had brought me crashing back to earth.

  He’d tried to rectify his subtle rejection by stepping back into my space, but I wouldn’t let him touch me again. Instead, I shouldered past him and stormed to my car, ignoring his feeble apology. I screamed out of that parking garage like I was fleeing a crime scene.

  What the hell had possessed me to kiss him in the first place? And why hadn’t once been enough?

  A tapping on my window made me gasp. I jerked to look out the glass and saw Stuart, our house butler, trying to get my attention. I unlocked my car and gave him a tight smile.

  He opened the door for me. “Everything all right, miss?”

  “Yes, fine, thank you.” I handed him my keys and brushed past him, my ankle nearly rolling in the strappy heels my mother had sent over with Franco.

  “The guests should be arriving in half an hour,” Stuart called to me.

  I raised my hand to acknowledge I’d heard him, but kept on walking. I didn’t have time for chit-chat. I had to prepare myself for a torturous evening of hanging out with people who were hyper-aware of what others were thinking of them.

  My lips toyed with a smile as I remembered Marcus’s insightful observation. My heart twisted painfully in my chest.

  “Oh, darling, you’re here.” Mom stopped to assess me as I walked through the door, critically taking in her selection. “Your father was right,” she muttered. “That color does make your eyes pop.” Her smile was proud as she gave me a kiss then stepped back and nodded again. “Very nice. Enrique, your daughter’s here!”

  Dad came tapping into the room and wrapped me in a delicate hug that wouldn’t mar my dress or makeup. His lips kissed the air rather than my skin.

  “You look beautiful.” He stood back to admire me. “This was designed by one of my new girls.” There was a sweet admiration in his deep voice that made my mother
flinch. He caught the back end of her toxic expression and chuckled. “She is a newlywed, my dear. Fresh out of college and all talent.”

  My eyes darted between the two.

  “I’m sure she’s very beautiful, as well.”

  An elephant lumbered into the room and I started fiddling with my drop earring.

  “Hmm.” My father responded with a noncommittal smile and clipped out of the room.

  Mom’s jaw clenched, but then she caught my stare and gave me a sunny smile. “Let’s talk strategy for when Fletcher’s parents arrive, shall we?”

  I didn’t want a strategy. I didn’t even want to be there!

  What I wanted was to be back in a nightclub making out with Marcus Chapman. The idea made me jolt to a stop.

  “Kelly, darling, what’s the matter?”

  Mom’s manicured brows dipped together, and I quickly pictured myself spilling the beans. “There’s this guy at work and he’s so not our style, but he’s sweet and funny and knows how to make me laugh. He’s different from any guy I’ve ever dated, and fuck me, does he know how to kiss!”

  The idea of what he’d be like in bed made me flush.

  “Why are you blushing?” Mom snapped.

  I sniffed and pulled my shoulders back. “Nothing, I just…”

  Mom sighed, giving me a glum smile before squeezing my arm. “Look, I know you miss Fletcher and it’s too late to rectify your mistake, but we will find you someone who will blow him out of the water. He’ll be so handsome and rich, Fletcher will be green with jealousy.” Her eyes flashed, reminding me of Snow White’s stepmother. I could see the shiny, red apple in her hand as she cackled.

  I cleared my throat and stepped out of her grasp. “I don’t need to make him jealous. It’s not like I’ll ever be seeing him again.”

  “Of course you will. He’s doing a spring semester in town for his father’s law firm. They arrive next week. Plus, we just received an invite to the wedding.”

  I blanched. “You’re not expecting me to go to that.”

  “Well, obviously you are. Echelon is designing Evangeline’s dress. Everyone who’s anyone is going to be there.” She spun and started walking to the dining room, her heels sounding like gunshots on the tiles.