Her vacation time in Cancun two weeks ago had faded to a distant blip. Burnout still ripped at her mental health, leaving her exhausted. And, her last burst of stupidity on her date with Keys didn’t help. I was having such a good time, I can’t believe I just ran away Saturday night.
She pressed her fingertips into her eyes and silently groaned. Well, Keys got the hint at least. It’s been radio silence ever since. No texts, no phone messages—nothing had come her way from him. And she couldn’t bring herself to reach out to him. Not that I have any time. I’ve been working sixteen-hour days. My poor kitty has forgotten who I am.
The red light on her landline lit up, and she pressed the connect button, knowing it was Zander. “Hey, boss. What’s up?”
“Did you get those budget sheets balanced for the Rock-It event?” he said.
Her gaze swept her desk for the folder with the balance sheet. Whew. There it is. “Yes, boss.”
“Are all the sponsors secured?” Zander said.
“All but one,” she said.
“Which one?” he said.
“The energy drink company, Hot Clutch,” she said, glancing at her computer screen.
A gusty sigh met her ears. “They’re the biggest vendor. We must land them. We have to finalize the schedule by the end of the day tomorrow,” he said.
“I know, I know. I’ve been working my hardest,” she said, ready to explode.
“I know you have. Why don’t you give Chip Dillon over at Hot Clutch a call, cinch the deal and call it a day? It’s four o’clock, and you can use the rest.” Zander said.
“Thanks, boss,” she said and disconnected. Leaving at four wouldn’t make tomorrow any easier. She had to power through the next few hours and make it count. After looking up the Hot Clutch number in her contacts list, she tapped it into the landline.
“Hot Clutch, Incorporated. This is Dana. How may I direct your call?”
“Hi, Dana, this is Mia over at EXcape. Is Mr. Dillon available?” Mia twirled her finger around the headset cord.
A frosty kind of silence filled her ear.
“I’m sorry. Did I lose you? I said this is Mia Song from EXcape calling for Mr. Dillon.” Mia frowned. Her finger hooked over the gold chain around her neck and tugged it.
“I heard you,” Dana said. “Mr. Dillon said to inform you that the sponsorship deal won’t be possible at this time. He’s moving in a different direction.”
Mia’s tummy tightened. “What do you mean it won’t be possible at this time? I just spoke with him yesterday. He said to contact him today, and he was sure we could come to an agreement.”
“Something came up. It’s a no from Hot Clutch,” Dana said, in a clipped tone.
“Can I speak with Mr. Dillon directly?” Mia said. She twirled her opal ring—the one she’d treated herself to after leaving Darion—round and round on her middle finger.
“I’m sorry, he’s otherwise engaged,” Dana said.
Mia whacked her palms on the desk. Her ring ticked against the solid wood of her adjustable desk. “Well, un-engage him.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t do that,” Dana said.
“Can’t or won’t? Please let me speak to him for one quick second. That’s all I need.” She stabbed the Up button, which raised the desk so she could stand and stomp her feet.
A huffy sigh blasted through the phone. “Let me check with Mr. Dillon and see if he can take your call.”
Mia stared at the ceiling as she waited as a litany of feelings erupted.
I hate my job, I hate my job. I want out so bad.
“Chip Dillon, here,” came a gruff sounding voice.
“Mr. Dillon, it’s Mia Song. I spoke with you yesterday about the sponsorship of Rock It. You said we had an agreement. I think your secretary was mistaken when she said the sponsorship won’t be possible at this time.”
“She wasn’t mistaken,” Mr. Dillon snapped. “The people who work with me don’t make mistakes. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to…”
“Wait, don’t hang up.”
“You have one minute,” Mr. Dillon growled.
Mia’s teeth ground together. “Look, you know EXcape is one of the world’s largest manufacturers of adventure gear and apparel. We’ve promised you top billing. Hot Clutch products will be everywhere. What else can we promise you to cinch the deal?” She began to pace in a small circle.
“Let me think about it,” he said.
“I need an answer by tomorrow,” Mia said.
“I said, let me think about it,” he said, then hung up the phone.
“What a bastard,” Mia muttered. Completely fed up with her stress-filled, unfulfilling job, tears stung her eyes. She grabbed a tissue from the box on her desk and dabbed at her eyes, trying to hold the wetness at bay.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened, bringing a fresh wave of who knew what kind of added stress. Only, when she lifted her gaze to the doors, Keys exited the elevator, dressed in Levi’s and his leather bomber jacket, bearing a huge bouquet of flowers. The sight of him touched her heart so much a few tears escaped her eyes.
He frowned as he approached. “What’s wrong, beautiful?”
“Oh, gosh…” She dabbed at her tears. “Sucky day. Sucky week, if truth be told. And, I thought I’d never hear from you after our date last weekend.”
“And yet here I am,” he said, sweeping one arm in front of her. “You can add persistent to your growing list of adjectives for me.” A wide grin split his face.
“What are the other adjectives?” she said, drying her eyes.
“Oh, let’s see.” He stood before the counter and said, “I heard impossible and incorrigible…and I’m certain that sexy, charming, fascinating, amazing, and Wowza are on the list.”
She chuckled, despite her foul mood. “Wowza isn’t an adjective.”
“Oh, sure it is,” he said, extending the exquisite bouquet.
She gasped at the black orchids, piano orchids and red lilies spilling from the florist paper surrounding the stems. “Oh, Wowza, these are gorgeous!” She reached for them and sniffed. “And, they smell heavenly. Thank you!”
“Gia helped me pick them out. I assured her I only have your best interests at heart,” he said. “She’s fierce when it comes to you.”
“They’re simply stunning,” she said.
“When are you off? I’d like to show you my place…where I create music and chill. What do you think?” A boyish expression crossed his face. “I’ve never taken anyone there. You know…in case you are wondering if there is a pathway to the bedroom worn in the rug.” His eyes widened as he lifted his eyebrows.
“I’m sure you’re not a bedroom kind of guy,” she said. “But, no, that’s not what I was wondering.”
“Oh, I’m definitely into the bedroom with a classy woman. Wait, let me amend that. With you, I’m down for sex anywhere. Everything with you feels new. I feel like a virgin.” He flashed his perfect white teeth.
His cocky grin made her wet with desire.
She snorted out a breath, remembering all the sweet things he said in Cancun, wishing her body didn’t respond so easily with Keys. “You’re hardly a virgin, Keys.”
He leaned over the counter and looked into her eyes. “All those other women…I don’t remember their names. Nothing about them stands out. They’re blips on the horizon.” He waved his hand in front of his face. “But, you, dear Mia, have taken up permanent lodging in my head.”
A chuckle left her lips. “Which head are we talking about?”
“Both! Little and big. This is the little guy…” He pointed to his head. “And, this guy, you know, is ginormous.” His hand swept toward his groin.
A laugh escaped her throat, making her feel lighter than she had all week.
“So, when are you off? Both heads are eager to know.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“I can leave now. I told myself I’d work late to catch up, but after that last phone call, I want to get as far away from this
place as I can.” She cringed, her gaze sliding toward Zander’s office. Good. The door is closed.
“Yeah, we’re going to talk about that, too.”
“Shhh,” she said as if Zander might overhear and guess what Keys referred to. “Not here.”
He mimicked locking his lips and pitching the key over his shoulder. “Then, come, my queen. Your Uber chariot awaits.”
Keys directed the Uber driver to the Dakota building, the place where John Lennon lived before he died. Once they arrived, he walked her across the lobby floor of the stately building and ushered her into the elevator, where he keyed in the private number to his floor.
Mia said little, overcome by excitement at being close to him again. Don’t blow it this time. Don’t even bring up Cancun.
The elevator doors opened into a small, private foyer that consisted of a coat closet and the white-painted door to Keys’ place. A couple pairs of well-worn leather boots stood in front of the closet. Keys took her coat and hung it in the roomy wardrobe. Then, he kicked off his winter boots and invited her to do the same.
She slid hers from her feet and placed them next to his.
“Entrez-vous,” he said, once he’d unlocked the front door with an elegant brass key.
She stepped past the threshold and immediately stilled, taking in the crazy and comfortable decor. Two red and gold couches covered with pillows stood caddy-corner to one another. A glass coffee table sat in front of the sofas, with more red pillows sitting on shelves beneath the glass. Custom license plates from several states reading THE KEY hung from one of the walls. A huge flat-screen TV sat on the wall opposite the couch. Funky art, Grammy awards, and odd knick-knacks, like a glass skull with the top cut off, filled with peanut M&Ms, added to the eclectic atmosphere.
“Here’s the chill zone,” Keys said, stepping through the front room. “This is where I go to relax, have a drink, zone out in front of the television.”
“It’s so you. There’s nothing pretentious about it,” Mia said, running her fingers across the slick glass skull. She reached for a glossy green M&M, remembering the old myth about green M&Ms making you horny, and popped it in her mouth.
“Thanks,” he said, eying her mouth. “But, wait—there’s more. Follow me.” He stepped around the corner, opened a set of double doors, and moved aside for her to enter. “This is my Sound Salon. I also call it the Muse Groove. This is where creativity cooks.”
The warmest smile Mia’d ever seen crossed Keys’ face.
Mia stuck her head through the door and gawked. “Oh, wow, Keys. This is a fantastic space.” She sidled through the door, moving slowly as if entering a temple.
Rich, warm honey-colored wood covered the walls and ceiling in diagonal slashes. Some sort of dark sound insulation lined the recessed grooves between the boards. In the corner, a small stage held guitars on stands, a keyboard, a drum kit, speakers, and several microphones. An upright piano stood in the corner, opposite a baby grand. One entire wall sat lined with record albums.
Mia let her hand trail across the albums, all arranged in alphabetical order. AC/DC, Adam, and the Ants, Annie Lennox, Amy Winehouse, Avenged Sevenfold, the Beatles, Beck, BB King, Bon Jovi, Breaking Benjiman, the Buzzcocks…the list went on and on.
The room screamed music, her once favorite place to be.
Mia looked up to see Keys, leaning against the wall, tracking her movements. A shiver raced up her spine. “You seem to have every album ever made.”
“I try. I’m a collector. When you grow up poor, and then you have money, well…I’ve indulged a bit, I have to admit.” He stayed put, continuing to watch her every move.
Mia felt like strands of some heady elixir stretched between them, creating an exquisite buzz of sexual tension. She took a few more steps, eying each album. Papa Roach, Porcupine Tree, Queen, Radiohead, the Ramones, Red Hot Chili Peppers… A sharp sense of acute longing wrestled through her heart, forcing its head to the surface. I miss this world. I miss being immersed in music.
“What’s going through that pretty mind of yours?” Keys said, quietly.
“I used to love this world—the world of music,” she said, leaning her back against the wall opposite Keys.
Keys pushed away from the wall, extending his hand to her. “Tell me. Tell me how you loved the world of music and how shitty your day was…tell me everything.”
His invitation poured through her soul like a healing balm. She took his hand, eager for the skin contact…eager for the sharing.
He kissed her knuckles and led her out of the Muse Groove, into the front room. “Sit,” he said, releasing her.
She curled up on one of the red sofas, leaning back into the plump cushions.
Keys walked across the room and flicked on a stereo system.
A chill-out, ambient mix filled the air, seeping through a sound system that captured every beat, every nuance.
“What would you like to drink? Wine? Beer? Whiskey?” His eyes were warm and soft as he regarded her.
“That would be lovely,” she said. “Do you have white? A Chardonnay would be nice.”
“I have whatever you want. If I don’t have it, I’ll send out for it,” he said, disappearing around the corner.
While Mia waited, her mind filled with memories of her musical past, colliding with nightmares of Darion. He robbed me of any chance I might have had to be happy. I hate him so much.
A few minutes later, Keys returned with an open bottle of Chardonnay, a wine glass partially filled with pale golden liquid, and an ale. He handed her the glass and rested the wine bottle on the coffee table. Then, he settled on the opposite side of the sofa with his ale. As he lifted the ale to his lips, she eyed his strong throat and jaw.
Keys was perhaps the sexiest man she’d ever seen.
When he lowered the bottle, he caught her watching him. His cocky grin flashed across his face. “We’ll get to that.”
“To what?” she said, sipping her wine.
“You know what. The skin on skin exploration bit.” He stretched one of his long legs across the sofa in her direction, resting his sock-covered foot against her thigh.
The contact felt warm…intimate…so nice. Mia smiled at him.
He took another swallow of beer. “So, talk to me. Tell me about your day.”
“More like my week. It’s been awful. Zander is putting on another event—this one’s a rock climbing competition called Rock-It.”
Keys snorted. “That’s original…not.”
“It doesn’t matter what it’s called. Rock climbers from all over the world come to Zander’s events. And, the event needs sponsors. Our biggest sponsor, Hot Clutch—you know, that new Red Bull energy drink competitor—is run by a prick. That’s who I was talking to before you appeared in the elevator door. He likes to play games…dangle people on a long line. He knows his company is a hot ticket.”
Keys scoffed. “I hate people like that.”
“Yes,” Mia said. “Me, too.” She raised her wine glass to her lips and took another sip. “Anyway, I hate my job. Hate it. I’ve got to do something different, or I’ll explode. And being here in your world of magic and music stirs so much longing in me…” She shook her head. “But I don’t want to break my boss’ heart. I know you keep telling me he’s a big boy, and he’ll deal, but he’s also a friend.”
“You have to separate friends from business. I told you I’m going through the same thing. When I got back from Cancun, I shared some new tunes with Dante and the others, and everyone shot them down. ‘We’re a rock and roll band, dude. Our fans won’t respond to shit like that,’” Keys said in a sing-song voice. “Word for word, that’s exactly what Dante told me. And the others’ just nodded their heads like little puppets. My creativity is stifled, Mia. Crushed there. I’ve become a ‘just shut up and play the riffs I wrote for you’ kind of musician. It sucks.”
Snorting, he set his beer bottle on the coffee table with a thwack. Then he swung his legs to the floor and lower
ed his head into his hands. “All I’ve done since I returned is fight with the band. It’s disgusting.” He turned and scooted closer to her, seizing her hands in his warm palms. “Don’t you see? This is our chance to move, girl. Clearly, we both need a change, but I can’t leave the band and take our manager. He’s bound to Marked Love. The rest of the band will skin me alive for leaving, but I don’t care. It’s a huge leap, but one I’m bound to make.”
Leaning forward, he brushed her hair away from her face. “I want you to represent me, Mia. You’re the only one I’ll trust with my career. Only you. What do you say? I’ve got a buddy with some studio recording space in midtown. I’ve been using it to record some of my tunes. It’s kind of like my little secret. No one in the band knows about that space. Come with me tomorrow, and I’ll play you some of my tunes. I’d love for you to have a listen, what do you say?”
Mia squeezed her eyes shut. Keys is a big enough musician to launch my career. He’s right. This could be my ticket out of EXcape. Take the leap. You can do it.
When she opened her eyes, she met Keys’ hopeful, earnest gaze. After taking a deep breath, she let it out and said, “Okay, Keys. I’m in.”
The look of pure joy flashing across his face melted her. But could one moment of joy prepare her for crushing Zander’s trust in her?
Keys
A slice of happiness had finally managed to poke holes through the dark gloom that surrounded Keys’ life. Mia’s meeting me at my buddy, Syd’s, studio. She’s going to listen to my songs.
As he waited, he paced along the pale wood floor of the studio he’d rented from Syd. Blue lights cast a soft glow from the light panels embedded in the corners of the ceilings. His boots made sharp strikes against the wood. With the added noise from the jingle of studio keys in his pocket, the fingers of his left hand played silent piano riffs against his thighs, if only to keep his restless mind from imploding.
The Key to Love Page 15
