I gave him a look. “A pro, or ready? Not that it matters. The answer to both is yes.”
Joz grinned at Mike. “Told you she was fucking fantastic.”
Rolling my eyes, I left Joz with Mike and entered the conference room. My gaze picked out Presley on the back row sitting with Adeline, the handler I’d assigned to help him navigate the industry. I smiled, and he smiled back, gratitudeswimming in his eyes. There was something adorable about a newbie to the industry, before this business knocked the youthful enthusiasm out of them. I hoped Presley got to keep that exuberance for a while.
As I took my seat, a hush settled over the room. I tapped the microphone to check it was on.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. As the advance press release informed you, I have an announcement to make. This is an exciting time for Kingcaid Music. Our label continues to grow, and while we can’t quite compete with the big guns—yet—we’re heading in the right direction. Over the coming weeks and months, I will have many exciting things to share with you, but none more so than today’s thrilling news.”
I paused for effect, making sure every single journalist was paying attention.
“Last week, Kingcaid Music signed an exclusive three-year, two-album deal with none other than rock legend Joz Raynor.”
Joz ambled through the door to rapturous applause. The press was a fickle bunch, but overall, apart from the dreadful treatment he received when Caroline died, Joz was well-liked and highly respected. He pulled out the chair on my left and sat. Mike took the one next to Joz.
Journalists began firing questions, and Joz answered them all with ease. The man was a complete professional, and pride filled my chest at the fact he’d chosenmylabel. We were minnows in comparison to the bigger labels, yet we’d landed a big fish of our own.
After ten minutes, I cut in. “One or two more questions, then we’ll have to bring this to a close.” I pointed at a guy on the third row who I didn’t recognize. “What’s your question?”
“Gary Tomlinson from Rock Legends,” he said in a broad London accent. “You and Aspen Kingcaid have been spotted a couple of times in a non-professional setting. Is this partnershipjust business, or are you finally letting yourself move on from Caroline Bevan?”
The journalist’s voice cut through the air like a serrated blade dipped in poison. A deathly hush settled over the room, and my stomach dropped to the floor.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Joz leaned toward the mic, his jaw like stone. “Don’t you fucking dare sit there and turn my grief into a headline.”
No charm now. No deflection. Just Joz, raw and unrestrained.
“You want to ask about the deal? Ask about my music, about the future? Go ahead, but don’t pretend to give a shit about Caroline when all you’re doing is looking for a soundbite.”
He briefly glanced at me, a flicker of something dangerous behind his eyes: pain, rage, grief. Possibly all three.
“I didn’t move on. I survived. Write that in your fucking rag.” He launched to his feet. “We’re fucking done here.”
In the time it took me to blink, Joz had barreled through the door to the waiting area, with Mike right on his heels. I glared at the journalist who’d screwed up my press conference and saw a cocky smirk on his face.
“You.” I jabbed a finger at him. “You’re barred from any future press conferences.” Gesturing to security, I leveled him with an icy stare. “Escort thisgentlemanout of here.”
Pushing back my chair, I followed Joz. He was pacing up and down, raking his hands through his long hair, a wild, almost unhinged look about him.
“Hey.” I kept my voice low and soothing. “What do you need?” It felt like the right question.
“Need?” He laughed, the sound bitter and not at all like the man I’d come to know these last few days. “I need to lay that guy out. I need to punch and kick him until he begs me to fucking stop. I need to go back in time and do things fucking differently.”His voice cracked, and he turned away from me. “I need to get the fuck out of here.”
He blasted past Mike, who was standing by the door, and almost yanked it off its hinges before he disappeared.
“Fuck.” Mike ran a finger along the inside of his starched white collar. “I’d better…” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder.
“Let me.” I raced after Joz but, damn, that man moved fast. I scanned the area. Nothing. He’d vanished.
Presley came toward me, a painful grimace crinkling the skin around his eyes, with Adeline a few feet behind.
“You seen Joz?”
“Yeah. He almost shoulder barged me out of the way. Saw him jump into a car a few seconds ago.”
“Shit.”
