My heart skips a beat at the look of pure joy on her face. “You’re very welcome, Georgina.”
In a heartbeat, the expression of joy on her face is replaced by one of skepticism. “Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but why, exactly, are you doing this?”
“Because it makes sound business sense,” I say, lying through my teeth. “You’ll be able to maximize your time this way. Plus, you’ll be relaxed and close by. All good things for the special issue, in the end.”
Her skeptical smile turns absolutely breathtaking. “Liar,” she says softly. But she’s said the word playfully. Affectionately, even. And it sends a flock of butterflies whooshing into my stomach—which is a shock to me. I haven’t felt the cliché of “butterflies” too many times in my life. And when I do, they usually feel foreign and strange to me. But, holy fuck, this time, I’m feeling them and thoroughly enjoying them.
“You ready to stop screaming at me and watch the rest of the concert with me?” I say. “We can watch from the wings.” I rise, assuming her answer is yes, yes, yes... but quickly realize I’ve miscalculated. Georgina’s not standing with me. Indeed, she’s staying put and shaking her head.
“Fuck,” I mutter, sitting back down. “Now what?”
Everybody’s got a price.
I say it all the time and know it to be true.But something tells me Georgina Ricci’s price ain’t a free hotel room a few blocks away from River Records.
23
REED
“Seeing as how you won’t let me go on tour or interview C-Bomb,” Georgina says, her eyebrow arched, “you owe me something as good or better.”
“I’ll let you interview RCR and also Dean, individually.”
“Not good enough. Dean’s been interviewed a trillion times. He’s so good at being interviewed by now, I’m sure I’ll be able to chat with him for twenty minutes at the party tonight and walk away with an entire interview all sewn up.”
I can’t believe my ears. “You still think you’re going to that party tonight? Georgina, obviously, that’s off, too. Same as everything else.”
She throws up her arms. “No!”
“Yes.”
“But Caleb invited me!”
“And I’m uninviting you. I thought you understood the party being cancelled was part and parcel of everything else I’ve cancelled.”
“Okay, that’s it. The last straw. I quit.” But she doesn’t move. She just sits there, stewing. Thinking.Strategizing.Finally, she visibly lights up with an idea. “What if I took off my press pass and went to that party tonight as a civilian? Not as a reporter. Just as Caleb’s personal guest. I could do that, and you couldn’t say boo about it.”
My heart rate spikes.Fuck. The clever girl’s found herself a loophole.Fuck me.
Georgina smiles wickedly, and I know I’ve done a shitty job of maintaining a poker face. Indeed, whatever she just saw flicker across my face, it’s egging her on.
“You know what?” she says, sitting up. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Throw away my press pass and go to the party tonight as a civilian. And not only that, I’m going to throw away my press pass for the entire week, and start my job a week later than originally planned, and go on the tour, too. Why should I be an official reporter on the tour”—she levels me with her blazing eyes—“when I can be Caleb’s...groupie?”
Oh, for the love of fuck. She’s evil. A shark smelling blood. A demon.
Georgina licks her lips. “Band members are allowed to bring guests on their tours, right? I bet that’s even stated in their contracts. So, fine, I’ll just be Caleb’s personal guest for the entire week and all my problems will be magically solved.” She snaps her fingers. “Don’t forget, C-Bomb offered to get me a hotel room at the Ritz tonight, on his dime, just to make things easier on me after the party. Wasn’t that sweet of him? So, I’m thinking, maybe, if I ask him really sweetly to get me rooms in every city along the tour, he’ll do it for me. Do you think he would? I bet he would.” She drapes her arm across the back of the couch. “And if not, then, gosh, maybe he’ll be willing to let me crash in his bed... every... single... night.”
Oh, my fucking God, she’s diabolical. Pure, unadulterated evil. A force of nature. A human asteroid hurtling toward my planet. How did I not see this coming? I’m normally brilliant at predicting my opponent’s tactical maneuvers. But this time, I must admit, Georgina Ricci has outplayed me. I clench my jaw, forcing myself to keep a poker face. But, damn, this diabolical woman just laid down a royal flush to my two pairs and I’m losing my fucking mind.
“What was that groupie’s name inAlmost Famous?” she asks breezily.
I force myself to sound nonchalant. “Penny Lane.”
“That’s right. I bet I’d get a ton of great content forDig a Little Deeper, if I pulled a Penny Lane this whole week with Caleb.” Sheswipes her palm through the air in front of me, like she’s imagining her name in lights. “‘My Tantalizing Week as a Badass Drummer’s Penny Lane.’ By Georgina Ricci.” She smiles wickedly at me and lowers her hand. “Gosh, with a scintillating title like that, I bet the article would fly off shelves. It’d probably be the best-selling issue ofDig a Little Deeperyet, doncha think?”
Oh, she’s good. But, still, as I sit here staring at her, I’m starting to smell her panic. To make out the chinks in her armor that betray the panic bubbling frantically underneath all that gorgeous bravado. Her shallow breath. Flaring nostrils. The crimson in her cheeks. Ah, yes. Despite this little show she’s putting on for me, gorgeous Georgina is actually terrified I won’t call her bluff, but will, in fact, let her walk out that door to become C-Bomb’s groupie this week. Now that I’m smelling her delicious fear, I’m positive she doesn’t want to do it. Doesn’t want to be his, whether she had his poster on her wall as a teen or not.Ifshe did, at all. God only knows what this demon would be willing to say to fuck with me. But, no, either way, this girl is dying to bemineand nobody else’s.I’m sure of that now, thanks to the way her heart is visibly crashing behind her incredible tits.
Should I let her twist in the wind a little bit longer? Let her panic boil over? Yes, I should. Unfortunately, though, I’m too worried I’m wrong about her not wanting to fuck Caleb to risk it. Taking a long, deep breath, I drape my elbow over the back of the armchair, matching her posture. “I’d strongly urge you against pursuing a ‘Penny Lane’ strategy with C-Bomb. You might get one scintillating article out of it, but you’d likely torpedo your career. It’s a marathon, not a sprint, baby.”
