Scurrying off Valak’s lap, I climb back on my chair and cram my mouth full of food and drink. And I definitely do not look at Gabriel while he drops his sweatpants and wet t-shirt as he walks off in search of a towel.
“No, he’s actually not,” Valak comments, his eyebrows drawing together as he considers what he said.
Gabriel uses the towel to dry his glasses first, purposely giving me an eyeful of his wet body. Even though I’ve recently licked and bitten my way over those glorious pecks of his, standing there with water trailing over them, he looks like one of those marble Greek god statues they have in the National Archaeological Museum. “Give me a sec, it’s getting cold. Now that I can think again, I want to check the weather app too. Len, you want a hoodie or another blanket?”
“I’m good,” I croak out. Maybe I should have had a swim too.
My phone pings, letting me know an email has arrived on my work account. Opening the app, I read the first few lines before I get up and turn to go inside. “Sorry, I have to take this. Lincoln, where can I work from, please. I can’t be interrupted.”
Lincoln is leading the way before I have to explain anything, Ares walking along next to me. I dart into the room I’m using and grab my laptop bag, rushing back to see where Lincoln went. Of course, he’s waiting quietly for me in the corridor.
“All okay, dove?” he asks, guiding me inside his office.
I’m stunned when he offers me his private sanctuary. I know for a fact he never lets any guests or friends into this space because he tells me about his irrational need for privacy. It says so much about him, but it feels like such an invasion on my part. My voice catches, despite me having to jump into work mode. “Lincoln, I can’t use your office, this is your space.”
“You will use my office. And you will answer my question.” His eyebrow arches up expectantly, as he gets a little domineering.
If I didn’t have to focus on work, I’d be focusing on all the ways of trying to seduce the man. Starting by climbing up him, balancing on his thighs to kiss the sharpness off his face. Sadly, my phone buzzes in my hand, and I’m drawn out of fantasy land into reality.
“Drama with Broken Cube. It’s not unexpected but at the same time, it’s still a shock,” I confess as I step inside his office, taking up his sweet offer. Later we can talk about what it all means, but now I let him use his hand on my lower back to guide me behind his desk.
Lincoln rolls the chair out then unpacks my bag. “Drama I need to be involved in?”
“You?”
“Did you miss earlier where I said I was here to help you now?”
“I appreciate that, but honestly, I need to read this email properly and then give them a call. Looks like they’re wanting to terminate me as their manager,” I say, chewing on the edge of my lips, knowing it is not going to be as simple as that. With Broken Cube, it never is.
“They must be stupid. Even though we’ve been dancing the client-manager line for a while, Lennon, one thing I do know is you are very good at your job.”
He reaches over and turns on the small table lamp next to me before opening the top drawer and pulling out his monogrammed stationery and a pen. Leaning over to kiss me on the top of the head, he rubs my shoulders. “I’ll get you some water and light the fire for you.”
I wish I had time to luxuriate in Lincoln’s caring side, but now is not the time.
Rereading the email a few times, I jot down several key points before calling the band. This has Spencer and Fez’s involvement written all over it.
Lincoln returns almost an hour later with a pot of tea. I wave at him but stay focussed on the conference call I’m on.
“Spencer, you need professional help,” I argue over the top of Broken Cube’s lead singer and Fez’s never-ending tirade of excuses. And they have been going at it since they returned my call. After making me wait ten minutes. I’m sure they thought they were being tricky, all it meant was I had more time to prepare and I could also speak with my lawyer to confirm a few clauses that had been banded around threateningly. Including, arranging a fucking gag order because one of these twats somehow dug up my residential address, and when I find out how, I’ll be going ballistic. I’d put money on it being Fez or Frank, slimy assholes.
In some ways, I wish I could switch off my caring persona and be more practical, because the argument over the terms of their email is easy, our relationship, not so much.
It pisses me off that Fez is ignoring the way Spencer’s words are slurring, his sentences being jumbled, but what shits me off to no end is the way they are both arguing that he doesn’t need to go to rehab.
“Look, Lennon, we’re bailing. This shit between us is too heavy these days. And you’re not on our vibe anymore. Before you were, shit, you were our biggest supporter, not anymore though. Don’t think you do much for us at all anymore.”
“Fucking hell, Spencer, how about a little respect for everything she has done for us,” Gus implores, his concern as true today as it has always been. It was one of the reasons I fell for him years ago. He is a beautiful and compassionate soul.
“You’re still talking like she’s sucking your dick, Gussy. Get a grip. You remember, she left you?” Fez taunts, pleasure in every barbed word he utters.
“We’ve been over this so many times, fucktard. Lennon is one of my closest friends and always will be. We are definitely over each other. I’m fucking engaged, you remember, to Tilley, the woman sitting next to me now. No, you don’t because you’re living in the past, and you’re the only one with an issue. Get over yourself.”
“Or you’ll quit,” Fez hisses, but it’s so condescending it makes me retch. “Get a new line, Gus. Lennon, we signed with RMI. Boom. And you know why? Frank’s not riding us, constantly critiquing our work. The fans fucking love us, and you should’ve too, since it was your fucking job and all. Of course Frank is on board with our direction, that man knows his business. You know he’s got us studio time, unlike you who keeps wanting to put us on hiatus. That’s bullshit. Frank’s got our business because he gets us way better than you have for a long fucking time. So fucking long actually.”
I scoff, shaking my head, at a loss for words. I remember when the boys used to laugh at what a flake Frank was with all his false promises. And now I’m listening to them sacking me, after they’ve fallen for the glittering bullshit promises that passed Frank’s thin lips.
Fez must hear me taking a breath because he interrupts me. “It’s done. Frank’s wiring over a payout of our contract, and our lawyers have already sent over to you the proper paperwork.”
