“Thanks.” Will’s smile is instant and tinged with pride. “Ezra Cohen asked me to tell you hello. I didn’t realize you knew him, though I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“I interned with Sound in New York and worked some at their office here in LA when I first moved. Ezra’s been a mentor of sorts to me over the years.”
“I guess with parents like yours, making those connections is easy, huh?”
I stiffen at his words, resenting any assumption that my parents’ success managing classical musicians fast tracked me.
“He actually wasn’t familiar with my parents at all. He’s mainstream. They move in classical circles.” I clip each word. “I applied for the internship like anyone else and busted my ass once I got it.”
“I’m sorry.” Will’s dark eyes search mine, and he grimaces. “Look, real talk. I’m the only minority at the Sound Management partner table, and most of them think I’m Ezra’s answer to affirmative action.”
The memory of fetching coffee for some of those assholes during my internship makes me grin.
“And a lot of folks at Penn State thought of me as some kind of token. Like I was taking the spot of someone who actually deserved it,” Will continues. “I guess what I’m trying to say, and not very well, is that I know what it’s like when people assume you got where you are using something other than hard work. Didn’t mean to imply that.”
“No problem.” I relax my face until my smile becomes genuine. “Sorry I got defensive.”
“Then we’re both sorry.” Will returns my smile, straightens his tie, and nods to Sarah as she walks up. “I need to check on something for Qwest. See you in a little bit.”
Once he’s gone, I gesture for Sarah to join me at a nearby table to go over a few details before the doors open.
“You’re feeling better today?” I ask
“So much better.” Sarah grins, looking more like the perky girl I’m used to seeing. “I went to bed as soon as I got home and woke up a new woman. Thanks for taking the bag to Grip.”
“No problem.” I ruthlessly suppress the images and sensations that assault me when I remember being on that rooftop with Grip, and focus on the task at hand. “Did you, by chance, upgrade Qwest to the Presidential suite at the Park?”
I sip my water. As badly as I need a drink, I’ve been trying to cut back. I’m known for holding my liquor, but that doesn’t mean I should. If I’m not careful, I’ll end up drinking vodka for breakfast like my mother.
“No.” Sarah frowns and pulls out her phone, scrolling through emails. “The reservation is for a luxury suite, not the Presidential.”
She whistles and lays her phone on the table.
“Somebody messed up. Costly mistake.”
“Hmmmm. Maybe.” I have my suspicions about other scenarios, but don’t voice them. I just open a few emails that might need my attention. “Did we hear back from Meryl about Grip’s date with Qwest?”
Sarah clears her throat in a way that catches my attention. I glance up from my phone and wait.
“I haven’t heard back yet,” Sarah says. “But does Grip know about this um . . . date?”
“I think Qwest wants it to be a surprise of sorts.” I keep my face impassive.
“She’s wasting her time,” Sarah singsongs the words, a small smile on her matte pink lips. “Grip only has eyes for one woman.”
Sarah is more observant than I gave her credit for. I stand and smooth my hair.
“I don’t think all the girls Grip sleeps with really care where his eyes are,” I say, keeping my tone neutral. “There are other parts of his anatomy they’re much more interested in.”
“If that one woman he has eyes for would give him a sign, I’m sure he’d keep his anatomy where it should be.”
“Well his anatomy has to be onstage in about an hour,” I tell her. “So, I’m going to make sure it is.”
Did I say I liked being friendly with Sarah? Retract that statement. I don’t need her that close or seeing that much. She better be glad she’s so efficient.
And that I like her so much.
I prepare a mug of lemon tea in the kitchen for Grip. He’s been performing so much his voice must be tired. I’m walking down the hall to the dressing room, and the door is ajar. My brother’s voice reaches me through the small open space.
“Call me whipped if you want.” Laughter threads Rhyson’s deep voice. “You’re just jealous, Marlon.”
Softer, feminine laughter joins Rhyson’s.
“Rhys, don’t tease him,” my sister-in-law Kai chides.
“He knows it’s true,” Rhyson insists. “You want the wife and kid now that I made it look so good, right? I see it in your eyes. You’re ready to settle down. You’re tired of sowing all those wild oats.”
“I haven’t been sowing anything.” Grip’s voice when it comes has a little gravel in it. “I always wrap it up.”
I clench my fist at my stomach. I know he sleeps with women. If I hadn’t known, he made it abundantly clear last night.
“I don’t mean literally sow,” Rhyson says. “You already had one baby daddy close call.”
“Not funny,” Grip answers. “Too soon.”
“How can it be too soon?” Rhyson demands with a laugh. “Tessa was eight years ago.”
“Considering what she tried to pull on me,” Grip answers. “It will always be too soon.”
Tessa.
Tessa was my close call, too. I may have fallen hard and fast for Grip that week, but I’ve been getting back up ever since. My hands and knees may be scraped, but I’m otherwise in tact, if not a little tougher and smarter. Tougher and smarter should be the natural evolution of a woman. It’s the only way we’ll survive as the “weaker” sex in this world.
Weaker, my ass.
“Just admit you want this,” Rhyson says with a laugh.
I carefully peer through the crack to see Rhyson’s very pregnant wife sitting on his lap. He brushes Kai’s long, dark hair away from her neck to drop a kiss there. I can’t believe Gep, Rhyson’s most trusted security guard isn’t out here keeping watch. Then I notice a shiny shoe only a few feet from Rhyson’s. Figures. Gep is inside with them.
“You two do make it look good.” The smile in Grip’s voice stills my heart for a beat. “But it looks good on you because you found the right girl. A lifetime with the wrong girl is a sentence.”
“Then find the right girl,” Rhyson says. “And do not say it’s Bristol.”
A needle pulls through my heart at my brother’s words. Grip and I aren’t right for each other, but to hear someone else say it, to hear my own brother say it, hurts.
“Don’t start.” Now Grip’s voice is tight. No sign of a smile.
“Yeah, Rhyson,” Kai chimes in. “I believe Bristol will come around.”
You’re wrong, honey.
“I already told you who Bristol will marry,” Rhyson says.
This I gotta hear. My brother is notoriously obtuse about me.
“She’ll marry some guy in a suit with a stick up his ass and who has our mother’s approval.”
Okay. Maybe not completely off base.
“Don’t say that about your sister,” Kai says.
“It isn’t a criticism,” Rhyson replies, his tone ringing with truth. “Just a prediction. Bristol wants more control than what she would have with a guy like you, Marlon.”
“We’ll see, huh?” Grip answers softly. “You might be right.”
“I still have my money on Grip and Bristol.” Kai’s voice is light but a little defiant.
“Don’t lose our money, Pep,” Rhyson says. “Ow! Why’d you hit me?”
“Because you’re being a jerk,” she says, laughing a little. “And I’ll kiss it better.”
They would turn my stomach if I wasn’t getting a niece out of this in the next month or so.