I have some money saved up, plus my share of the trust from Brash. And I could get a boring job to help pay the bills if my savings get low while I actually take the time to do what I’m pitching to Alexis on my own. No, I won’t have her contacts. Or Jonathan’s. But it’s not like Jonathan’s contacts have done me any good anyway. What do I have to lose?
“You would do that?” Her voice is soft, tentative, like she’s not sure she should even ask the question.
I glance at her, at the furrow still between her brows, and I’m seized with the urge to smooth it away. But I don’t touch her. Instead I nod again and finish my drink. “Yeah. I think I’m going to turn in my notice anyway. I’ll finish out the next few concerts and help him transition to someone new, but I’m tired of being my big brother’s peon. It’s not what I wanted to do in the first place, but I didn’t have any better options, and I thought it might help me out. That he might help me out. But apparently that’s asking too much.” God, I sound like a whiny little bitch right now, and I hate myself for it, just a little bit.
But shockingly, it seems to be working on Alexis. Her face clears, and she gives me a firm nod. “Fine. Okay. If you’re going to quit anyway, then yes. Let’s do it. Let’s do what you said.”
Straightening, I turn to face her, an almost disbelieving smile pulling at my lips. “Yeah? You’re serious?” She shot me down a second ago. I can’t believe my pity party changed her mind. But hell, I’ll take it, even if it is because she feels as sorry for me as she does for herself.
Despite her bravado, another flash of hesitation crosses her face. But she says, “Yeah. I’m sure. You’ve been around all this”—she waves a hand around, indicating the room at large—“longer than I have. If you say that having a serious boyfriend will make me look more stable and you’ll help me rebuild my following to the point that any label will be salivating after me, then yes. Let’s do it. And I’ll do my best to help you too, whether it’s better song choices or just helping pimp you out more, I’ll do it.”
She holds out her hand like we’re shaking on a business deal. I slide my palm against hers, the slight callouses that come from playing guitar brushing over my skin. This chick is the real deal, there’s no doubt about it. I give her hand a firm squeeze, then use my hold on her to pull her closer. She stumbles, catching herself on my chest, looking up at me with parted lips like she’s waiting for a kiss.
Perfect.
I place my free hand on her hip to steady her, but also to sell the idea of us as a couple. She’s even skinnier than I thought, the sharp bone of her hip jutting out under my hand. “Since we’ve been talking for a little while, we better start acting like a couple, or no one will believe our story.”
Staring up at me, she gives an almost dazed nod. “Right,” she whispers, then clears her throat. “Right,” she repeats more firmly.
“Someone’s probably taking our picture right now,” I murmur, keeping my voice low. “The good news is that no one will think it’s odd that I didn’t show up on the red carpet with you since I’m here working too and I’m attached to a different act.”
She lets out a low chuckle that vibrates through my body, shimmering in my blood and sending it rushing south. “It’s cute you think I’m important enough to walk the red carpet.”
I let out a hum in response. “Well, you’ll be walking the red carpet soon enough. And with any luck, I’ll be there with you.”
Her eyes brighten and her lips curve in a seductive smile, though I’m sure she doesn’t mean it to be anything but happy. “I like that idea.”
“Which part? You on the red carpet, or us together?”
She lifts one shoulder in a careless shrug. “Either one works for me.”
It’s my turn to chuckle. “I like your honesty.”
“Good. I have a hard time lying.”
That gives me pause. “Will this—us, what we’re planning—will you be able to do it?”
Her eyes leave mine, staring at a point over my shoulder while she contemplates my question, and I hold my breath waiting for her answer. It might be my brilliant idea, and I might be able to do some of what I proposed on my own, but it’ll be a lot easier and my career will grow a lot faster if I have her on my side. Her help could be invaluable. Especially since she’s actually willing to help me in a real, tangible way.
At long last she looks me in the eyes again and nods. “Yes. Everything in the media is fake. Or at least carefully crafted versions of the truth. I can handle that. It’s lying to people face to face. Like this. People who I care about, who I spend lots of time with—that’s where lying gets difficult. I’m not going to lie to you, okay?”
“Okay. I won’t lie to you, either. That seems like a good stipulation to have in our agreement. I help you. You help me. We’re both honest with each other.”
That smile tips up her lips again. “Deal.”
I stare at her smile, those luscious red lips, and I hesitate, but ultimately say what’s on my mind. “Should we seal the agreement with a kiss?”
Her eyes widen in surprise, bouncing back and forth between mine to see if I’m serious. “I suppose if we’re a couple, that would make the most sense.”
Lowering my face close to hers, I whisper,
