“No harm, maybe, but felony-stupid for Dax. If he’s a solo artist, he won’t have to split the pot three ways.”
“Maybe for Dax the pot’s not worth having if he’s gonna be sitting all alone at the top of the charts, feeling like the biggest asshole who ever lived,” I say, my cheeks flashing with color. “Or, hey, maybe Dax only feels so comfortable onstage because he’s got the safety net of being up there with his two best friends in the world. Maybe in that important, subtle way Fish and Colin contribute more to 22 Goats than you realize. Maybe, if Dax said yes to you and turned his back on his friends, he’d forever feel like he fucked them over—and then he’d start resenting you and the devil’s bargain he made and he’d turn to booze and pills to numb the pain and, slowly but surely, or maybe quite quickly, the ‘rock star’ you signed would become a train wreck and a complete waste of your investment.”
Reed throws his head back and laughs heartily.
“What?” I say.
Reed flashes me a massive smile. “So muchpassion.”
“I poured it on too thick?” I ask sheepishly.
He nods. “Pretty damned thick. And yet it all rings true somehow.”
I sigh with relief.
“Thanks for giving me some food for thought, T-Rod. It’s nice to get bitch-slapped once in a while. It happens so rarely to me these days.”
“Oh. I had no intention of ‘bitch-slapping’ you.”
Reed waves dismissively. “I was being facetious. I just meant that nobody in my company ever pushes back with me anymore. Not like you just did, anyway.”
“No?”
“No,” he says. “If they push back at all it’s always about dollars and cents and second-guessing the market—never about not being a total dick. Never aboutpassion.”
“Reed, I wasn’t calling you a dick. And I most certainly wasn’t trying to be naïve about business. I was just offering a different point of view.”
Reed flashes me a wicked smile. “No need to apologize, T-Rod. You’re misunderstanding me. I’m telling you Ilikedit when you pushed back.” His gaze turns decidedly sexual. “I liked it a lot.”
My crotch floods with blood all of a sudden. “Oh. Well... Okay.”
We stare at each other for a moment, and there’s no doubt in my mind he’s imagining having extremely enthusiastic sex with me right this very minute. And I’m not gonna lie: I’m having the same mental image.
“So, T-Rod,” Reed says, his voice low and intense. “What are you doing after—”
“Yo, Rivers,” Josh says, out of nowhere, and we both lean back abruptly.
“Yo, Faraday,” Reed answers smoothly.
“Jonas and Kat’s brother, Ryan, just challenged me and you to a game of two-man volleyball.” He looks at me. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything here, T?”
I shake my head like a little kid.
“Dude, gimme a minute. I just ordered a drink,” Reed says, his eyes flickering across my body again.
“I’ll bring your drink to you at the volleyball court when it arrives,” I offer, happy to use Reed’s drink as an excuse to watch Ryan playing volleyball in the sand.
“No, Miss Rodriguez,” Josh says. “Tell the waitress to bring it to Reed at the court when she comes, okay? You go ahead and hang out here and read your book and relax.” He looks at me pointedly.“Just stay here and relax.”
I nod. Damn. There was no mistaking the outright command of that last statement.
“Come on, man,” Josh says, pulling Reed up off his chair. “Time to give my brother and soon-to-be brother a volleyball-beat-down as only the unstoppable duo of Faraday-Rivers can do.”
Reed relents and stands, not taking his eyes off me, his muscles flexing and tightening as he does. “I’ll catch ya later, T-Rod. It was nice chatting with you. Thanks for the advice.”
“Nice chatting with you, too, Reed. See you later tonight—at the concert.”
He winks at me. “Or maybe before then. You never know.”
