by Sandy James
Why did that question frighten her so much?
Didn’t matter. Not only did she want to know about his first wife, she suddenly realized that she needed to know. “Yes. I do. If you want to tell me…”
“I loved Katie,” Brad said. “I loved her so damn much, and I thought she loved me.”
“She didn’t?”
“No, she didn’t. After she was gone, I was packing away her things. I couldn’t bear the idea of throwing them out, so I was going to put them in boxes and store them for God knows what reason. But I found some fabric-covered books buried deep in her bureau. Turns out she kept diaries for quite a few years—even before she met me.”
Savannah didn’t like the way this story was unfolding, and her heart ached from the pain in Brad’s voice. “You don’t have to—”
He gave her another quick squeeze. “I do. And you deserve to know.”
“The diaries. They were…bad?”
“Really bad. She wrote about who she liked, who she hated, what she thought she deserved, which was pretty much everything. She actually had her sights set on Ethan. When she didn’t get anywhere with him, she targeted me.”
“Targeted?”
“She wanted to be famous, even if it was through other people. I was a door for her to get into the world of country music.”
“But she married you,” Savannah said. “That’s an awfully big step just to meet a few people in the business.”
“She wanted a lot more than that,” he explained. “She thought she could be a famous singer. I guess she figured I’d write her some hit songs and introduce her to the right people. Like it’s that simple.”
“So did you?” She’d never heard of a Katie Maxwell, but she might’ve used a stage name.
His chuckle was hollow. “The woman couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. I could’ve written the best song in the world for her and it wouldn’t have mattered.”
“What did her diaries say about that?”
“She thought I was wrong, that she was full of talent, but I was too dense to appreciate her. Besides, she didn’t love me and didn’t really give a shit what I thought. That was pretty damn clear from what she wrote. In fact, she said several times she wished Ethan was with her instead of me.”
Having heard more than enough, Savannah hugged Brad tightly. “I’m so sorry.” What else was she supposed to say after hearing about such abject cruelty? She found it a bit amazing that he didn’t bear some ill will toward Ethan just because of Katie’s obsession.
“Over and done with,” Brad insisted.
As though it could be that simple…
Savannah rolled to face him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“For telling me. It helps me understand you better.”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You told me about your ex. The least I could do was tell you about Katie.”
Feeling as if they’d cleared some important hurdle, she fell asleep with a smile on her face and wrapped safely in his arms.
Chapter Nineteen
Savannah walked through Brad’s office door as he held it open. She had an hour until her performance, and she’d rather have been warming up her vocal chords than talking to a manager she didn’t want or need.
Or did she need him after all?
Much as she still felt burned by Michael, she had to admit Brad was right. The circumstances of her career were changing rapidly—probably too quickly for her to handle alone, especially when she was a single mom who already felt guilty for not spending enough time with her daughter.
Perhaps a man with Greg Jorgensen’s stellar reputation—something Joslynn had discovered while researching to help Savannah out—could benefit her. At the very least, she’d try and keep an open mind.
“Savannah Wolf, meet Greg Jorgensen,” Brad said, nodding at the impeccably dressed older man sitting at his desk. “Greg, this is the singer I’ve been raving about.”
Greg stood and held out his hand. “As you should have. I caught your opening night, Savannah. You were amazing.”
Face flushing hot, Savannah smiled. “Thank you.” Then she turned to Brad. “Why didn’t you have him come to the party if he was already at the show?”
“If Marie hadn’t insisted on being there,” Brad replied, “I wouldn’t have even let her come. Last night was for family and friends.”
“Marie Allen was there?” Greg asked. “Interesting…” He stroked his salt-and-pepper Van Dyke beard.
“I’d say so, considering she called me,” Brad added.
Savannah listened to the two discussing Marie Allen’s penchant for always getting what she wanted while she tried to take in other tidbits about the woman. Greg seemed to know quite a bit about her, which was a point in his favor. Not that Savannah was ready to sign a contract. Far from it.
She was, however, a bit off balance after meeting Greg. She’d expected someone younger. Someone more like Michael. Judging from his gray hair and the laugh lines around his dark eyes, she’d have a hard time believing he wasn’t well past sixty. His age put her more at ease than if Brad had planned for her to meet some hungry up-and-coming twenty- or thirty-something. A manager needed to have experience. Greg seemed to fit that bill.
“So, Savannah,” Greg said, gesturing to one of the two seats on the opposite side of the desk, “tell me how you came to be at Words and Music.”
She and Brad sat down before she launched into the story of her being a waitress who was lucky enough to appear on Indie Night. The tale was fun to tell, but she worried he’d think she was painting herself as some sort of overnight sensation. Her past was littered with failures, including her one real relationship. Brad wasn’t helping her stay humble by tossing in exaggerated compliments about her voice and stage presence.
“I have to admit,” she said, wrapping up the story, “that I was really, really fortunate.”
Brad took her hand. “No. You were really, really good.”
Leaning back, Greg tented his index fingers and tapped them against his lips. “Interesting…”
His comment threw her off balance. “What’s interesting?”
The glance he gave Brad was enigmatic. “Just nice to know the Hitman is back in business.”
Although he hadn’t truly answered her question, Savannah let it go. Besides, she was more comfortable talking about Brad’s career than her own. “His new songs are wonderful.”
“I heard them,” Greg replied. “You sang them beautifully, which is why I’m here. I saw you on YouTube, and I knew I had to hear you sing live. So I stopped by to watch your opening. I liked what I saw.”
“I knew you would,” Brad said. “So are you willing to take her on as a client?”
“Whoa there…” Greg’s eyes found Savannah’s. “You might have gotten us together for this meeting, but I think now’s the time for Savannah and I to talk business. Alone.”
Brad leveled a frown at Greg. “You’re kicking me out of my own office?”
“It would appear I am,” Greg replied with a cocky grin. “If you’ll please excuse us for a bit…”
Although he appeared annoyed, Brad left the office, closing the door behind him.
Savannah took hold of the situation by raising her hand palm-out when Greg began to speak. “I’m not sure exactly what Brad told you, but I’m not sure I’m looking for a manager.”
“Ah, yes. I have to say that after he explained about your last representation, I can’t blame you for that attitude.” Greg pulled a legal pad from a leather portfolio and laid it on the desk. Then he opened an expensive-looking fountain pen and settled it and his folded hands on the pad. “Quite frankly, I’m different than that failure. In fact, I’m the polar opposite. If I didn’t think I could be an effective manager who has impeccable ethics in his fiduciary responsibilities to his clients, I wouldn’t waste your valuable time.”
Having nothing to lose from hearing him out, she nodded. “
All right then. Why don’t you tell me what you think you can do for me?”
“I believe, my dear, that as far as a music career, I can give you whatever your heart desires.”
* * *
Brad couldn’t stop pacing as if he were an old-fashioned father-to-be, anticipating his first child’s birth. In a way, Savannah’s career was his baby. If only she’d put aside her stubbornness and appreciate the opportunity sitting across the desk from her.
To sign with Greg Jorgenson would be a coup any rising star would envy, but after what her ex had put her through, she might not want to hear about all the things Greg could do for her career. She sought to be the next Carrie Underwood? He could and would do that for her because Savannah had the talent and Greg had the skill as a manager.
Ethan’s voice echoed through Brad’s thoughts.
“Find out if she wants you to turn her into something she doesn’t want to be.”
Brad had promised to do exactly that.
A check of his watch irritated him. They’d been talking for almost thirty minutes. She needed to get ready to perform. The door mercifully opened, so he hurried back down the hall to find a rather grim Savannah. Greg was still sitting at the desk, jotting something down on a legal pad.
“So?” Brad gripped her shoulders to get her to look at him.
“So…” was all she said.
“Did you two work something out?”
When she nodded, he sighed in relief. “Fantastic,” he said before brushing a quick kiss over her lips. “You should go get warmed up.”
“Thank you for introducing me to Greg. See you after my set.” She headed toward the stage.
Brad frowned, unable to understand why she wasn’t excited. Hell, she’d just signed with a man who’d made more stars than any other manager/agent in Nashville.
Greg was packing his pad into his briefcase when Brad returned to his office. The man’s face was almost as grim as Savannah’s had been. “What’s wrong?” Brad asked.
After latching the case, Greg set it on the desk. “Wrong? Nothing is wrong. I do have a question to ask you, however.”
“Fire away.”
“Have you ever sat down and had a conversation with that sweet woman about what she wants for her future?”
He sounded exactly like Ethan and Russ. Perhaps it was time to listen to all of them, but getting a hint of what they saw that he obviously didn’t would help. “What do you mean?”
Greg stepped around the desk to stand directly in front of Brad. “I distinctly remember you telling me that Savannah not only had the talent to succeed but that she was—using your word here—hungry.”
“She is.”
“Not for what you think. She doesn’t want to be a celebrity, Brad.”
“Of course she does.”
With a shake of his head, Greg walked to the door. “You two are involved, aren’t you?”
“Why does that matter?”
“It doesn’t matter to me in the least. But I believe it should make you pay a little closer attention to what I’m about to tell you.”
“You sound like my father,” Brad grumbled.
Greg put his hand on Brad’s shoulder. “What she wishes to do is earn enough to make a comfortable living for her family. She’d like to buy a nice home for herself and her daughter and to buy a bigger house for her parents.”
“What are you talking about? She’ll be famous enough to do both of those things…and then some.”
“Her dreams for herself aren’t the same as your dreams for her. If you’re dating, then you should be considering what she wants more than what you think she deserves.” Holding out his hand for Brad to shake, which he did, Greg gave a parting shot. “Savannah and I came to a tentative agreement for me to represent her.”
Every word Brad had heard, but understood none of it. “If she didn’t want a career, why would you take her on?”
With a chuckle, Greg shook his head. “You’re not listening to me, my friend. I never said she didn’t want a career, and I have every intention of giving her exactly that. On her terms.” A quick check of his watch. “If you’ll excuse me, I promised my wife I’d be home early tonight.” Another chuckle escaped. “If one can call home by seven ‘early.’” On that, he left.
Brad sprawled on his desk chair before leaning back and dragging his fingers through his hair. Hard as it was to admit, his friends had been right. He’d been so focused on giving Savannah what he wanted for her—what every other singer he’d known had wanted—instead of finding out what she wanted for herself. No wonder she’d been so upset over all he’d done for her.
Or was it done to her?
Unfortunately, he was accustomed to Katie’s overwhelming desire to be a star, which made it difficult to recognize that he didn’t know what was best for Savannah. The decisions should have been up to her.
The sound of Randy introducing her reached the office. It was time to watch her perform—something he knew he’d never tire of doing. Brad left the office and headed toward the restaurant.
When the show was over, he’d make sure that the two of them had a nice, long talk.
This time, he’d listen.
Chapter Twenty
Savannah left the stage feeling as though she were walking on clouds. The audience had been supportive and enthusiastic, and she’d sung her heart out to please them. Adrenaline still raced through her after she took her last bow and left the stage.
No, not just adrenaline. There was something else, something deeper than a mere performance “high.” What she felt was more passionate. Primitive.
Downright sexual.
Every song had been about Brad. For Brad. And since the singing was done, she needed him, and she needed him right now.
As her eyes adjusted to the dimmer backstage lighting, she found him waiting for her. Leaning one shoulder against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, he grinned. “You had them eating outta the palm of your hand tonight.”
Without a word, Savannah set her guitar down and went to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rose on tiptoes to kiss his lips. He didn’t miss a beat as he enfolded her in his embrace, kissing her back with the same sort of desperation that was ripping through her.
There might have been people staring—Randy, Leah, Maggie—she didn’t give a damn. Whether it was the thrill of performing or the knowledge of how Brad could make her burn that drove her on, she kissed her way across his cheek to whisper in his ear, “I want you.”
His arrogant smile didn’t dampen her ardor. Instead, his confidence made heat pool between her thighs. “Where?”
“My place.” She needed to head home to thank her parents for helping with Caroline, who would be sound asleep. If he followed her home at a discreet distance, then her parents would be long gone before he got there. “Give me a twenty-minute head start.”
“Hell with that.” He kissed her again before she could explain, his tongue driving her wild.
She was about to ask why he wouldn’t let her leave first when he took her hand and led her away from the stage. Using the back hallway, he headed to his office. He shut and locked the door behind them.
Could she do this? Make love to Brad right there in the place she worked—that he owned? What if someone started knocking? What if—
He tugged at her shirt, whipping it over her head before she could ask him any of her questions. Only one word spilled out. “Condom?”
“Got one.” He left her long enough to pluck one from his desk drawer. After tossing it at the couch, he gathered her into his arms. Any will to resist him fled, and she snatched at his shirt, needing to be skin to skin.
The rest of their clothes were thrown about the office. She thought she saw her bra fly into the trash can, which made a giggle bubble up. Brad kicked his pants and briefs aside, rolled on the condom, and then smothered her laughter with another kiss. He tumbled her onto the couch, where they lay side by side.
“Are yo
u ready?” he asked as his hand smoothed down her stomach, moving lower. When he reached the junction of her thighs, his fingers moved between her folds, finding the sensitive nub. “Close, but not quite. Let me help.”
She let out a little moan as the heat inside her grew with each stroke. “That feels so good.” Her words seemed to drive him on, and the speed of his caresses increased. One finger, then two, slipped inside her, and she raised her hips with each thrust.
“Now you’re ready,” he pronounced. He settled himself between her thighs and entered her slowly, maddeningly, until she palmed his tight ass and pulled him inside her.
The longer he moved within her, the closer Savannah came to the release she craved. She wrapped her legs around his hips as the tension rose. Higher and higher until the climax raced through her, making her close her eyes and surrender to the wonderful sensations only Brad could inspire.
As she basked in the afterglow, he finished, holding tight to her hips as he let out a loud moan. Then he rested his face against her neck, his breath choppy and hot.
Sanity returned, making her face flush warm. “I can’t believe we just did…that in here.”
He let out a little chuckle as he moved to look into her eyes. “We can do…that anywhere you’d like. Even on the stage after hours if that would turn you on.” A wiggle of his eyebrows. “It would turn me on.” After a kiss on the check, he withdrew, hurrying to reach for the tissue on his desk.
Savannah rounded up their clothes. She dumped his on the desk and tried to don her own as quickly as possible. “I’m afraid I’m not quite that daring.”
Once they were dressed, he grabbed her around the waist, turned her to face him, and then kissed her until she sagged against him. “Then I’ll have to make it my mission to make you that daring.”
Feeling awkward, she tried to ease away from him. The moment they stepped out of the office, everyone would be staring, no doubt knowing exactly how they’d spent their time.
He grabbed her shoulders. “Hey…what’s wrong?”
“People will know what we were doing in here.”
