Undesired Lust
Page 4
Immediately, their tails fell and they lowered their heads before slinking away.
“It isn’t their fault.” Leah sauntered up beside him, following to the French doors leading to the open kitchen and dining area.
“No, it’s yours. Why couldn’t you have called and asked for an invitation instead of breaking into my house?”
“Would you have let me in?”
Touché. “No, but I would’ve saved you the expense of a plane ticket.”
He wrapped the towel around his waist and then entered the warmth of his house. His mom stood at the coffee machine, three mugs sitting on the bench beside her.
“Mom,” he grated.
“Don’t look at me like that. Leah said she was worried about you. I wanted to help.”
He walked to her, kissing her cheek even though he wanted to wrap his hands around her neck. “I think sometimes you forget I’m a grown man and have been for some time.”
“I think sometimes you forget I spent ten hours in labor pushing your fat head out of my vagina. You will always be my baby.”
He winced at the unforgiving visual. “Jesus Christ.”
Leah chuckled, and Mason glanced over his shoulder, glaring at her. “So what do you want from me?” He yanked his long-sleeve shirt off the marble countertop and pulled it over his head. When they made eye contact again, her jaw was set, her focus sharp and professional.
“I want to sit down and sort this out.”
“Sort what out? I quit, remember?” He still hadn’t decided if his declaration was the right choice. Leaving Reckless hadn’t relieved his stress or brought back his muse. If anything, it compounded his problems. Now, he had nothing. No hope for the future. No peace from the need to create.
“Mason, you can’t quit,” his mother gasped.
“No.” Leah shook her head. “What he did was throw a childish tantrum at a wedding. If you want to walk away from the band, that’s fine, but you need to do it professionally. A huffed resignation isn’t enough to get you out of a multi-million dollar contract. We would need to discuss all the issues involved with you breaking the binding agreement you have with Grander Records.”
He remained silent, staring at Leah, hoping her beseeching eyes would give him the direction he needed. Should he follow through with the knee-jerk reaction to quit, or admit defeat, show his weakness, and beg for help?
“It’s my job to fix things for you,” she continued. “Even though I had my manager and the label breathing down my neck for answers, I gave you more than two weeks to calm down and think. It’s time to let me help.”
But how? How could Leah help him when he couldn’t even help himself? He’d tried all the usual tricks to spark his muse to life—travel, seduction, sex, alcohol. Nothing revived what he’d lost. Working on the first Reckless Beat album, he’d had over a hundred songs to choose from. He’d had notepads filled with lyrics. The next release was harder. His muse hadn’t been enthusiastic after seeing the negative reviews and nasty social media comments. It didn’t matter that the majority of people loved their music and their fame had shot sky-high in a matter of weeks. The hatred stuck with him, eventually becoming overbearing.
Then he’d paid more attention to the way the label guided the band. He started to resent the way they tried to shape their music, pushing him to replicate previous sounds rather than creating new ones. The more successful they became, the more structured they had to be.
“You haven’t been the same since your falling out with Sidney,” his mom softly added.
Fuck. The last thing he needed was a recap on the biggest cock up of his life. The weeks following Reckless Beat’s second Grammy win had been his most shattering. He’d learned who his real friends were, and the results confirmed he never really had any to begin with. Nobody had his back. Nobody bothered to hear his side of the story. The only person who knew what really went down was his mother.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Leah asked.
“No. I don’t want to fucking talk about it.” He clutched the side of the countertop and lowered his head, trying to calm his frustration.
“It’s time you told someone the truth,” his mother whispered.
He tilted his head, piercing her with a glare. “It’s nobody’s business.”
The only reason she knew the full story was because he’d had no one else to turn to. Leah and Sean had gone straight for the jugular when the recording went viral. They hadn’t bothered to ask how it was uploaded. They immediately assumed it was a premeditated publicity stunt because the soundtrack to their fucking was their Grammy award winning song, Tough Love.
“Is there more to the story I need to know?” Leah asked, moving to stand beside his mother.
“No.” End of story.
“OK.” Leah held up her hands, the hard bitch exterior being replaced with a convincing sincerity. “Just tell me what you need. Tell me how to revive your muse. Because unless you want to call the rest of the guys and explain they no longer have a job, there is no other option.”
That scenario had given him two weeks’ worth of nightmares. Even though his opinion of his band members had lessened after the scandal—mainly his best friend, Sean—they were still his friends. Still family.
“You could get another singer.” Not that he wanted her to. The declaration alone was enough to send a metaphorical knife through his chest.
“Mason,” Leah implored, “you are Reckless Beat. Without you, the band doesn’t exist. Ryan, Sean, Mitch, and Blake would all be out of a job. You know that.”
Yeah, he knew, and it was a double-edged sword, adding more pressure to his problems. He didn’t want to quit. He didn’t want to be a failure, and the only option he had left was unobtainable. He’d tried everything else to spark his muse to life. Nothing. Not even one song was written.
“What are you thinking?” his mother asked.
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I can’t find a way out of this hellhole I’m in. Lyrically, this was meant to be the first album I created myself. I didn’t want to collaborate with the same pretentious assholes who piss me off. Yet, I don’t have any other options.”
“Things change quickly, you know that. There are a lot of new songwriters out there.” Leah’s eyes glistened with hope. “I can make a list. I’ll get you names of the best in the business and start scheduling time by the end of the week.”
Mason shook his head. “I’m over working with new people. I hate dealing with the flighty, artistic types. They drive me fucking nuts. And I won’t sing someone else’s songs. We tried for years to find the perfect collaborative mix. Do you remember how many times we were successful?”
“Once,” Leah murmured. “With Sidney.”
“Yeah.”
Sidney Higgins was his equal. She understood him. She knew what he wanted and what they had to do to achieve it. Problem was, he didn’t just break that bridge, he’d pissed on it and set the carnage to flames. There was no way she would work with him again.
“If I can get her here, would you be willing to collaborate with her?”
Mason gave a derisive chuckle. “Have you been holding out on me, Leah? I didn’t know you were a miracle worker.” He stepped back and leaned against the sink counter. “You know she won’t come anywhere near me.”
“Do you blame her?” Leah raised a brow.
Mason reined in his temper while his mother cleared her throat. Too much time had passed to still remain hung up on this shit. “Maybe a little,” he snarled.
If Sidney had given him the chance to explain why the video had been uploaded, there could’ve been a chance to salvage their friendship. Only Sidney, Sean, and every other asshole who wanted to stick their noses into his business had made assumptions, pointed fingers, and royally fucked him over.
Leah narrowed her gaze. “Obviously, there’s something going on that I’m not privy to.”
“Tell her,” his mother begged.
“No.” That ship
“SIDNEY, MY GORGEOUS songstress. How are you?”
Sidney straightened in her office chair, clinging tighter to the cell phone at her ear. The overly cheerful voice of the Reckless Beat band manager put her on edge. She hadn’t heard from Leah Gorman in years, and the sudden shove into the past brought unwanted flashbacks to her mind.
“Leah,” she welcomed in a friendly tone. “What do I owe the pleasure?”
Sidney concentrated on the conversation, trying not to be overwhelmed by history, and the once treasured memories now corrupted with deception. She focused all her energy on the tiny spark of hope in her chest, the microscopic tingle of intuition she prayed came from a long-awaited dose of good luck.
She needed help. No matter how big or small. She needed something—a leg up, a helping hand, even a shove in the right direction to get her career back on track. The time for picking and choosing clients had long gone. If Leah’s management company had a new artist under their wing, Sidney was likely to lose her professionalism and beg for the opportunity to collaborate.
There was a beat of silence. A loud sigh. “I’m not going to waste your time, or mine, trying to butter you up with compliments, no matter how much you deserve them. I’m going to cut to the chase and hope you don’t have heart palpitations from the whiplash.”
Too late. Leah’s switch to a dire tone had Sidney swiveling to the window so her assistant, Justin, couldn’t see her concerned expression. “Sounds ominous.”
“For you, it could be.”
Da-da-duh-duuuhh. “I thought you were cutting to the chase.” She glanced down at the Manhattan street below, ignoring the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Ominous or not, Sidney was poised on the edge of her seat, waiting somewhat impatiently to hear what Leah wanted.
Apart from helping the bass guitarist with a personal project, her life had been distanced from Reckless Beat for a damn long time. A thankfully damn long time. Now, her only association with the quintet came in the form of dwindling royalty checks. But Leah had a long list of connections Sidney couldn’t afford to ignore. In fact, she would give the last of her withering self-respect to work with one of their new clients.
“OK, here goes. I need your help—”
Score! Sidney’s face brightened with a relieved smile. God knew she needed this opportunity.
“—Well, more specifically, Mason Lynch needs your help.”
With a blink and a gasped breath, Sidney’s hope vanished. His name alone made the excited emotions inside her turn dark. Anger filled her chest as she contemplated what was more insulting—the fact anyone would call her to help the man who ruined her life, or the way Leah used his full name, as if Sidney wouldn’t remember who the hell he was.
“Before you hang up,” Leah blurted. “Let me give you the details. I fully expect your initial reaction to be negative, but if you listen to my proposal, I think the benefits will far outweigh your aversion to working with him.”
“Aversion to working with him,” Sidney mocked. “Leah, I assure you, my feelings for Mason are far more than a mere aversion. In fact, unless you want him to become a soprano, I wouldn’t suggest putting us in the same building, let alone encouraging us to work together.”
“I understand where you’re coming from.”
No, she didn’t. Nobody did. The only person with a vague awareness was her assistant because he was the poor soul left to pick up the pieces after Mason shared their most intimate moments with the world. Everyone else carried on with their lives—the band, her friends, her clients. Sidney had suffered, more than anyone would ever understand, and to assume otherwise was highly insulting.
“What I have to offer is mutually beneficial,” Leah continued. “We’re all aware of the hardships you’ve gone through in the past years. This is your opportunity to get back on your feet.”
Hardships? Sidney scoffed, preparing to disconnect the call. Losing a record deal, the majority of her clients, and being poised on the brink of bankruptcy was far from a hardship. It was a nightmare. And it was her life. Not to mention the humiliation which still hadn’t worn off. “Whatever he needs, I’m not interested.”
“Sidney, honey, this is the break you need. All you have to do is collaborate with him on the next album.”
“Collaborate with him?” Christ. She could barely stand to think about him, let alone be in the same room. “Leah, I’m not interested.” It hurt to decline one of the few fresh avenues of income she’d come across recently, but she wouldn’t ignore what Mason had done to her. Rough times or not. Money problems or not. Hell, mental problems or not. She couldn’t help that man.
“The financial outcome for this would be substantial, Sid. Huge. I’m talking higher royalty rates. And it’s not just for Mason. It’s for the whole band. They need your help. Nobody else has ever worked well with him.”
The reason they used to mesh perfectly was because she understood him. Creatively, they were one entity. When they were in a studio, or brainstorming, or even chatting music, everything flowed. They were on the same wavelength, and that’s why it had been so easy to lose her professionalism on that fateful night.
Sidney bit her tongue, remembering the moment it all went wrong. The highlight of her life resulted in her downfall. The pedestal they’d once stood on, side by side, was destroyed. Everything she knew about him was a lie. He’d played her like a fiddle on concert night, and she’d been too in awe to notice. “I don’t mean to be rude, Leah, but how dare you call and ask me to do this? You know what he did to me. The whole damn world does.”
“Sid, please. I’ve known you for years. The fact I’m asking you, knowing full well how you feel about him, should show how desperate we are. The ball is in your court. Make demands, make stipulations. Do whatever necessary. But in return, I need you to work with him. Just this once.”
She had to hang up, to disconnect the call and pretend like this conversation never happened. Not too long ago, she’d made the mistake of helping Blake Kennedy write a song for his girlfriend. Sidney had known Mason was providing vocal support, and still she’d been naïve, hopeful, and entirely stupid to think being in the same room together would resolve some of the lingering questions from their past.
Unfortunately, questions weren’t the only things to linger. As soon as their eyes met, her attraction had returned, knocking her off her axis. She hadn’t been able to fathom how her traitorous body could still admire the aesthetics of a man who emotionally tore her apart. Self-loathing had fueled her anger to new heights, and she came out swinging. Sadly, Mason did too.
Slice after painful slice, they verbally clawed at each other until she’d been left broken, consumed with the same hopelessness she’d gone through for the unending months following the sex scandal. Even though she was stronger now, more immune to all the pretty that hid the asshole underneath, she still couldn’t picture herself willingly going into a fresh catfight. It was the opportunity for a solid royalty check that made her pause.
“To regain what I’ve lost, my demands would be vast.” And unachievable. She would take pleasure in making his bank account bleed before she stepped foot in front of him again.
“I realize that. We all do. And I’m not just talking about myself and Reckless. The label is aware I’m calling you. Grander is willing to compensate you for your time.”
Sidney let out a derisive laugh and ran a hand through her loose hair. Trust was the one thing she’d lost when her relationship with Mason was shattered. Trust with him, her family, Grander Records, and the whole world in general. “Are they also willing to reinstate my recording contract? Because I seem to recall them saying my music was unmarketable when I sang like an angel but acted like a whore.”
The record company had been poised to sign her as a solo artist. Then the sex scandal blasted social media, and the label refused to follow through. Her dreams of not only writing songs, but becoming a world-famous singer had vanished in the pleasure of an orgasm. Now, instead of being synonymous with ground-breaking music, all she was remembered for was giving good head. And to be honest, she wasn’t overly accomplished in that arena.
“They’re willing to renegotiate. The video has been buried for a while. Anything the media dragged back into the limelight would be short lived.”
No. Short lived or not, Sidney couldn’t deal with the public scrutiny again. Her dream of stardom had been brutally murdered and laid to rest. She’d become content with remaining a songwriter, and letting others sing her lyrics. The problem was, her dwindling client list was no longer making ends meet.
“Think of it as a working vacation. Mason has a new pool house on his property. You can spend your free time separated from him. It’ll be quiet. Relaxing.”
“Ha!” Being around Mason would be far from relaxing, and Leah knew it. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” Sidney shook her head and swung around on her chair to face Justin. His gaze was focused on her, his brow furrowed in concern. He had an uncanny instinct when it came to sensing the intentions of others. He’d cautioned her about Mason’s reputation well before the Grammys, and look what happened when she ignored his warnings.
Now she knew better. Justin had been the solitary person by her side during her trip to hell. And was still accompanying her while she tried to claw her way out. He’d gone above and beyond his duty as her employee and become her best friend. Her only friend.
“I understand,” Leah spoke softly. “Things between you two have been tough.”
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