Oh, Georgina. I resist the urge to chuckle at her indignation. Her naiveté. As if the tragedy of a few unused hotel rooms would stop the world spinning on its axis. If I’d forgotten Georgina is only twenty-one, I was just now reminded of it. “Hotel room reservations are almost always refundable,” I say calmly to my little kitten, trying not to smile at her lack of real-world experience. “And if not, then I’ll reimburseRock ‘n’ Rollfor any expense, seeing as how the rooms were booked after coordination with Owen. Who, to be clear, will be out of a job after this, I promise you that.”
Again, she looks pained.
“Kidding again. Get used to it. It’s a running joke.”
Georgina rubs her face, distraught. And, for a moment, I feel kind of sorry for the poor little thing. She looks like a possum caught in an iron trap. Like a little lamb being carted off to slaughter. But, to my surprise, after a few deep breaths, she visibly gathers her strength and straps on her warrior’s armor. Suddenly, the simpering twenty-one-year-old vanishes, supplanted by the same fierce superhero I witnessed in front of my house the other night.
Georgina’s eyes are sharp now. Her nostrils flaring. After one more deep breath, she puffs out her spectacular chest and lets me have it. “I won’t let you do this,” she says, her eyes ablaze. “CeeCee made itveryclear to meshe’smy boss, notyou. She also said you explicitly agreed we’re not churning out propaganda for River Records here—we’re independentjournalists. You’ve expressly agreed CeeCee’s got full editorialcontrol, and CeeCee, myboss, has decided I’m touring with RCR this entire week.”
A faint smile lifts the corners of Georgina’s indignant mouth, like she thinks she’s dealt me a death blow with her little speech. And, once again, I find myself fighting not to smile. Holy shit, she’s fucking adorable. Irresistible. Feisty. Glorious. Oh, how I wish she could sing, even a little bit. Because the girl’s got star power in spades, in a way truckloads of wannabe actresses and models and pop stars would kill for. “Everything you’ve said is exactly right,” I reply. “Especially the part about you beingCeeCee’semployee, not mine. In fact, I wouldn’t have agreed to this arrangement if it created any kind of employer-employee relationship between you and me.” I lean forward, my eyes on fire. “And do you knowwhyI didn’t want you as my employee, little Georgina?”
Her chest rises sharply. Her nostrils flare again. She shakes her head.
I smile. “Because I never fuck my own employees.”
Georgina’s lips part with surprise at my obvious implication, left unsaid:but I have no problem fucking one of CeeCee’s.
“Well, news flash,” she says, narrowing her eyes. “You’re not going to fuck me, either, no matter whose employee I am.” She leans forward, cutting the distance between us in half. “And do you knowwhyyou’re not going to fuck me, Mr. Rivers?” She’s close enough for me to see the caramel flecks in her hazel eyes. To smell her shampoo and moisturizer and toothpaste. “Because. I. Don’t. Fuck. Assholes.”
I can’t help smirking at her bald-faced lie. “Well, so much for you fucking C-Bomb, then. That’s a relief.”
She clenches her jaw, clearly annoyed, but says nothing.
I cock my head. “So, that’s your clever way of telling me, yet again, thatI’man asshole?”
“Seems like a logical deduction to make from what I just said.”
“Well, that’s an interesting interpretation. Between the two of us, I think any reasonable person would sayyouacted like a far bigger asshole the other night thanme.”
Her eyebrows furrow sharply. “Are you high? You were a colossal dick to me, Reed.”
“Oh, really? Huh. I didn’t tell anyone to fuck off and die. And I’m certainly not the one who had a demo in my pocket the entire time wewere flirting. Just a boner, which certainly doesn’t qualify as a hidden agenda.”
“Ha! You want to talk about hidden agendas?” she booms, her glorious temper rising and reddening her cheeks. “Every word out of your mouth that night was a lie, designed to get you into my panties. You think it’s not a hidden agenda to pretend to give a rat’s ass about what a woman says, to pretend to care about having a conversation with her, for the sole purpose of ‘seducing’ her? I know you’re a hundred-and-five and all, but we kids these days call men like you ‘fuckboys,’ Reed.And it’s not a compliment.”
“Getting you into my bed wasn’t myhiddenagenda, Georgina. It was my expressly stated goal. I explicitly told you, straight-up, I wasn’t interested in dating you. Only seducing you. Maybe you ‘kids’ today aren’t familiar with the art of seduction, so let me translate for you. The entire purpose of it is getting to thefuckingpart.So, please, enlighten me. Tell me, what was I hiding from you that night? Name one fucking thing.”
She opens and closes her mouth, at a loss for words.
“I thought so,” I say, leaning back in victory.
“Okay, Mr. Rivers. Listen up, you arrogant prick. I’m going to explain what happened the other night,once, without leaving anything out. And then I’m going to move on and never speak of this again, because I’m already sick to death of the stupid topic.” She takes a deep breath, apparently trying to keep her temper under control, and every cell in my body strains with desire for her. “I wasn’t using you that night, Reed. I was genuinely, sincerely, outrageously attracted to you, from the first second I saw you. I assure you, I wanted to get ‘seduced’ by you, every bit as much as you wanted to seduce me. And, for the record, yes, I was fully aware ‘seduction’ was a euphemism for ‘fucking.’ Aware of and quite thrilled about it.”
I’m breathing deeply. Trying not to let on how intoxicating she is to me—that she’s already won me over, and then some.
“To be honest,” Georgina continues, crossing her arms. “I bet I wanted to have sex withyou, even more than you wanted to have it withme. Because, heck, you can have sex with anyone in the world—just by snapping your fingers, Mr. Big Shit Music Mogul. For you, banging some nobody student-bartender isn’t a big deal. Just another Thursdaynight. But, for me, getting ‘seduced’ by Reed Rivers, going to his fancy house in his fancy car, was averybig deal. And before you call me a gold digger, I’m not. Why would I care about your money, when I was in it for nothing but one night of sex? But who wouldn’t feel swept away by you and your glamorous life? You made me feel like I was in a movie. I haven’t slept with that many guys in my life. And certainly never anyone as experienced and exciting and dashing as you. I’m not saying I gave a shit about you, personally, okay? Even as we were driving to your house, I wasn’t sure I liked you. But one thing I was positive about: I sure as hell wanted you to do filthy things to me—with absolutely no strings attached, I might add—simply for the fun of it.”
Every word out of her mouth has been music to my ears. And to my cock. And not a huge surprise, to be honest. Of course, Georgina sincerely wanted to fuck me that night—for all the reasons she just set forth. She’s a journalism student, after all, not an aspiring starlet—a whole different breed of woman than the ones I’m used to encountering. Plus, even the best actress in the world couldn’t have faked Georgina’s reaction when we kissed. The way she bucked and jolted into me, and then kissed me back with a passion that took my breath away—like she was drowning and I was oxygen. Or, fuck, maybe it was the other way around, and she was the oxygen. Either way, Georgina’s passion that night reflected back to me everything I was feeling in that moment—like every atom in my body had been doused in lighter fluid, and then set ablaze by the torch that was Georgina Ricci.
Which is probably why... maybe... now that I’m thinking about it... I reacted the way I did when I first found out about the demo. For a split-second there, I irrationally thought maybe Georginahadbeenthe world’s best actress, and that she’d played me expertly the whole time, even during our nuclear-bomb of a kiss. And I didn’t like how that made me feel. But now... now that I’ve had time to process and reflect, now that I’m seeing the earnestness in her eyes, I know for certain she’s telling me the truth. Of course, she is. Which means I really was an asshole that night. But realizing I was an asshole doesn’t mean she wasn’t one, too. And it certainly doesn’t mean I’m inclined to let her off the hook. Not yet, anyway.
“So, you expect me to believe it was pure coincidence you had your stepsister’s music demo in your pocket that night?” I ask.
Georgina rolls her eyes. “Will you stop being a stubborn dickhead for a second and just listen to me? Holy hell, you’re even more stubborn than me.”
I bite back a smile.
“I’d never heard of you before the event. On my walk there, Alessandra told me about you during a phone call. So, because Ilovemy stepsister, and always want her dreams to come true, I loaded a flash drive with her best songs the minute I got to the lecture hall, just in case the chance to hand it to you fell into my lap. Wouldn’t you have done the same thing for someone you love? God, I hope so... or else you’re an even bigger dickhead than I think you are.”
