Ah. So that’s the problem—he’s jealous. “I’m sure if you contact the media that you can get your name in—”
“That’s not the point.”
“That’s always the point.” Bonnie stepped between the two of us as she said the words. “I’m going to make this clear.” She gazed at me. “You’re going to be rational, calm, and polite.”
Pretty much exactly what Mama Murthi was demanding of me.
Bonnie turned to Spencer. “And you’ve going to be rational, calm, and polite.”
I puffed out my chest. Ha. She saw him as highhanded and rude as well. Score one for me.
“I’m always polite and—” Spencer cut off as the petite woman glared at him. She was almost half-a-foot shorter than me, and Iwas a few good inches shorter than him. The difference between the two of them was almost a foot.
And yet, clearly, Bonnie considered herself in charge around here. I didn’t smile. Well, I didn’t smile too much. I liked watching her put her boss—the arrogant Spencer Wainright—in his place.
His green eyes flashed as his gaze traveled from Bonnie to me and back again. Finally, he shrugged. “I’ll listen to what he has to say. If I don’t like it, though, then I have the right to show him to the door.”
“Well, I suppose.” Bonnie pointed her finger at him. “But I think you need to listen to him. He’s worth paying attention to.”
Her words warmed me because compliments about me were rare. Creed occasionally remembered. Reese was decent. Freddie was useless, and Mama Murthi only praised me when I’d done a really good job. So, despite Spencer’s vague acquiescence to allow me entry—for at least a few minutes—it was the beginning of either a thawing in our relationship or the entire demise.
I just couldn’t figure out which it was based on what had just happened.
Chapter Nine
Spencer
Normally, my office felt spacious—with my ergonomic chair behind my large desk, two chairs across from it, as well as the sofa I spent far too much time laying on because of the fucking migraines.
With Malik in my space, however, it felt claustrophobic. Like I could barely breathe without inhaling his scent. Sandalwood? Maybe? Not something that appeared to trigger my fucking head—so I’d take that for a win. “Would you like to take a seat?”
“How’s your head?”
My gaze shot to his.
“Kind of obvious the last time I was here that something was happening. I mean, I’m glad you didn’t have a seizure or something—that would’ve been scary. But you went all white and kept pressing your hand to your temple.”
Had I? I’d no memory of any of that. Not entirely surprising, however. Often, once the aura—and then the pain—struck, everything became fuzzy. Sometimes just around the edges andsometimes, like that day, every fucking thing. “I’m okay, thank you for asking.”
“But you need to keep your stress level down, right? Blood pressure and all that?”
My eyebrows shot up.
“My best friend’s baby sister. Creed’s taught me how to read the signs. I mean, when there are signs. Sometimes it just hits her hard and nothing helps. She’s on this new drug. The damn thing’s amazing—”
“I’m allergic to an ingredient.”
“Aw shit, that sucks.” He cocked his head—as if trying to get a read on me. “Anyway, I recognized some of the symptoms. I kind of figured you didn’t want me to see you like that, so I told Bonnie you needed help and then I left. I admit to feeling a little guilty.” He scrunched his nose. “Okay, like, a lot. But I was also still mad about the interview you did with CNC.”
I let out a long exhalation. “I could have been…more diplomatic.”
“Yeah? Because I’m not all about the clicks and likes. I mean, those are nice, and I get a bit of a hit, but I’m more interested in the comments. Do people understand why I’m doing what I’m doing? Do they listen to the lyrics and get the message? I’m really good at lyrics, by the way. Creed sucks, although if he gives me a good story, then I can tell it.” He rolled his eyes. “My point—and I do have one—is that I’m good at composing lyrics. Freddie, our keyboardist, and Reese, our bassist, do most of the scoring. Between the four of us, we make a good team.”
“I’ve heard your stuff, and I won’t disagree. Just not clear why you’re here today.” He scrunched his nose.
“Mrs. Murthi said I had to come and apologize.”
Again, his eyebrows shot up. “Mrs. Murthi is related to Creed?”
