Oliver inhales, rubbing his chin. “Ryan… you’re doing a great job, but if we really want to get this band into the big time, we need someone trained in PR.”
My eyes widen, and I stiffen. “Ahh… fuck no.”
“Ryan, I know you’ve done PR for Recoil since you start—”
“Exactly! So I’ll continue to keep doing it!”
“Ry, maybe we should listen to Oliver?” Nate queries, and it shocks me.
I find myself shaking my head, and I let out a small, sharp puff of air that flutters my hair. “What? Why?”
“Well, we never gained traction in the States before everything went to shit the first time. So clearly the PR wasn’t working… no offense.”
“You gotta be kidding me?” I groan.
“Okay, how’s this? How ’bout we trial a new PR person? If they’re no good, then Ryan takes back the reins?” Danger asks, looking straight at me.
“Fine, but I get to choose who it is,” I order, but Oliver stiffens, and I don’t like his reaction, “What?” I blurt out, wanting to know why the fuck he looks so tense right now.
“I’ve already hired someone.”
“Dude,really?”My voice rises an octave.
“They’re the best, coming from a long line of PR professionals. It’s in their blood, so they know the business inside and out. I’ve worked with Marks Enterprises before, and they’re fantastic. They’ve handled some amazing acts.”
Resigning myself to the fact I’m being replaced, I sink back into my seat. “Okay, so when do we get to meet the pompous asshole who will be taking us on?”
My attention is drawn to a leggy brunette in a dress suit. Her hair is in a messy bun, and black-rimmed glasses frame her delicate face. She reminds me of those movie characters who transform from nerdy to stunning by simply removing their glasses, letting down their hair, and leaving everyone in awe.
“I believe that pompous asshole would be me, Mr. Hunter. Pleased to meet you. Tillie Marks of Marks Enterprises and your new PR Manager.”
My cock twitches in my pants as my stomach drops.
Danger smirks at me—the dickhead—while I flare my nostrils in frustration at being overruled by a woman.
“Well, Tillie from Marks Enterprises… Iwillwork with you to get the best results formyband,” I state matter-of-factly.
Her cute little button nose turns up, and a crooked smile lights her face. “I work better alone, Mr. Hunter. I don’t need your help. I have it under control.”
My brows furrow as anger intensifies like a dormant volcano that has sprung back to life.
Not only is my PR role being taken over by this snotty-nosed brat, but she isn’t going to let me help. At all. This day can’t get any fucking worse! What the hell could be next?
“Oh, and Ryan, the track you laid down yesterday had a technical glitch with the soundboard. It looks like you’ll have to re-record most of it,” Oliver announces to throw the additional salt on my gaping wound.
Oh, for fuck’s sake! I throw my hands in the air in annoyance.
First, I’m told my health is on the brink of a disaster.
Second, my PR job has been handed over toher.
And third? Now, I have the frustration of re-recording a full day’s work.
This shit is doing my head in!
Damn it all to hell! I’m ready for this day to be over.
Standing, I turn to walk out of the room.
