“I really don’t. You were the one who led me to think you’d play me for the property. Why wouldn’t I think you were trying to soften me up to get your way. Classic manipulative male thing to do.”
I hadn’t been doing that. The lights, her, that moment – it all led up to that kiss. A kiss I didn’t want to think about. And there was no chance of it happening again.
“You needn’t worry. I realise I must’ve been out of my fucking mind to have come anywhere near you. We’ll keep this professional. Let’s get one of your lawyer friends to look at a contract.” I folded my arms. The water seemed a few degrees hotter than before.
“I want the east wing. We can share the entrance. And I’ll need to add some outbuildings as guest suites.”
Her eyes blazed as if she was waiting for me to argue otherwise before she started a fire.
“Then I’ll take the west. I can build two studios at the side. I don’t need as much space indoors as you will. A few rooms for musicians.” I looked at her and felt my brow crease. “You’ll pick up business off this. There’ll be some artists who’ll want to use your girly shit.”
“My clients aren’t gossips. The people who’ll be coming out here are likely to be media shy themselves. I have one or two singers as clients already. It could work both ways.”
“Maybe.” I was tucked as deep into the water as I could be with my chin just on the surface.
“Your little friend looks like she could do with some therapy.”
There was no mistaking the catty undertone to her voice. It made me smirk.
She was jealous.
The blonde princess was jealous.
I raised an eyebrow, and the shit-eating grin I wasn’t going to be able to smother. “Roisin’s new to the industry.”
“And looking at you as if you’re the answer to life, the universe and everything.”
This time my grin wasn’t shit-eating. “Douglas Adams. I wouldn’t have thought you were a fan.” She definitely didn’t strike me as a sci-fi reader.
“Probably safer if you don’t pigeonhole me as some dull blonde. You’ll come off worse if you do.”
The prickles were definitely out. Possibly poisonous too.
“I hadn’t. I loved that series. If I’d had a bad day or if it was crap where I was living as a kid, I’d re-readThe Restaurant at the End of the Universe.I think I knew sections of it off by heart.” The explanation was there before I’d even thought about it. I didn’t talk about the bad days, the time before I’d calmed down and all those people who’d tried to help had been pushed away by an angry lad.
“I read them with my dad. He was obsessed with them.” Her words were softer. “It was good escapism.” There was a pause. “How long is your protégé out here for?”
I looked to the grey sky and asked for help. “Until we have three songs written for her album that Daddy’s waiting for.”
“You don’t sound too thrilled about this.”
“She’s hard work. Spoiled. Her father owns the record company, she’s had a couple of decent hits but I’m beginning to think the singer/songwriter tag is false advertising.” She would sell, mainly because of her father’s influence with the right people. Someone at her level wouldn’t be able to afford to work with me, not without some significant backing.
“You don’t always get a say though, not when you’re being paid.” She eyed me, giving me a glare I was becoming too familiar with. “Why are you doing this? You must’ve made enough money so that you could buy this place and fill it with staff.” She gestured to the building around us.
The point was a fair one. I didn’t have to work. I didn’t have any nasty habits that were going to bankrupt me, and given I’d grown up with fuck all, I’d been fairly sensible in terms of investing my income.
“Boredom. I’m thirty-seven. What else do I do? And it’s performing I want to stop, not making music. Aren’t your spas doing well enough now that you can stop expanding and just sit pretty?”
I watched her face as she relaxed, seriously considering what I’d said.
“They do really well. We got them pitched at the right market and we have repeat clients who introduce their friends. I could just run it as it is, but there’s a demand for something a little more. Something special.” She glanced over to where the empty building we both wanted sat. “I like having a project, so I get where you’re coming from. I don’t do sitting pretty.”
I could make a really shitty comment back about how she looked, but I knew she’d have heard them all before and that wasn’t me. I’d seen it all through the entertainment business: women had to work twice as hard as men in the same position.
“I figured. Your business ventures have been really successful. Credit where it’s due.”
“You’ve had me checked out?”
