“Oh no,” Rosalie said, and there was something in her sharp little smile that made me shiver. “No jealousy at all.”
She guided Dolly out the door.
“And what about you?” I growled at my manager. “Why didn’t you just ask Rosalie? She knows who to avoid.”
“I did!” Cornelius cried. “She said she wasn’t involved anymore. Wasn’t doing shit for you.”
He and Matt both turned and stared at me as my insides curdled at the idea of her being done with me.
“Rosalie basically runs this whole production,” Matt said in astonishment. “What did you do?”
“I’m fixing it, I’m fixing it,” I said, trying to stuff down cold shards of panic trickling down my spine. “She’ll be back. I promise.”
But I wasn’t sure. Suddenly I wasn’t sure of anything anymore. . .
CHAPTER 5
Kingsley
The temperature was hitting 100, but my concert crowd didn’t care at all, everyone looking half-drunk on the sunshine, the good craft beer we sold, and the fact that it was July and we were all outside singing.
Performance was like a high to me, and it always had been. To have the audience eating out of my hand, to feel the songs flowing out of my guitar.
Panties flooded the stage, but my eyes were glued to the VIP section up front where my best friend was dancing.
Fuck, Rosalie looked good.
She was going to break soon.
Iknewher.
Fuck, there was no reason for her to be this pissed at me.
After all, she should know I didn’t give one single fuck about Dolly. Once I got the part in the movie, I’d give Dolly a nice parting gift and that would be the end of it.
And that would only take a few weeks, hopefully.
Damn, Rosalie better not be pissed that long. Because I didn’t know how much longer I could go without her.
Earlier I had gone through my phone. I had hundreds of contacts on there. If not more.
But nobody else on my roster appealed to me.
And for some reason even scrolling made me faintly nauseated. There were tons of women in Chicago begging me to fuck them under or over deep dish pizza.
But I’d never had to go this long with Rosalie pissed at me.
I didn’t need her, I reminded myself.
Not likeneedneed her. Look around at all these people. So many of them would fuck me. So why were my eyes glued to one slim figure dancing in the VIP section?
Rosalie’s hips rotated in a slow, sensual circle, that sleek dark hair spilling down her back as she wiggled her ass.
Goddamn, she was hot. Her tank top was riding up so I could see the tattoo on her side.
I had been there when she got that tattoo, had a matching one myself on the side.
Kind of dumb, really. Cheesy as fuck, because the tattoo of the chords only made sense when we were standing together.
