“We’ll let the song speak for itself,” he says bluntly. “The time to try to charm and sell me is over, Georgie.”
Holy fuck. I shoot him a look that says,Well, shit. No need to be rude about it. But he’s not looking at me. Indeed, without so much as a glance at me, Reed clicks on the file I’ve indicated. And, once again, Alessandra’s voice is wafting from his laptop speaker.
It’s rinse and repeat. Reed listens, stoned-faced and impassive, for exactly one minute, before pausing the song and moving on to the third file. Another audio file. Which he then listens to for exactly one minute, without giving away a damned thing.
And that’s it.
The room is filled with nothing but the sound of my anxious breathing now. Reed has listened to all three songs on Alessandra’s demo, as promised. And he’s right: the time for scheming and negotiating and flirting and middle fingers raised to the sky is over. Alessandra’s music must now speak for itself, without any help from me. I let out a slow exhale, feeling nervous and frayed.
Reed slowly closes his laptop. He purses his lips. And, finally, looks at me, his dark eyes intense and giving nothing away. “She’s talented,” he says matter-of-factly. “She’s got good vocal control. A nice texture to her voice. There’s no doubt she deserved her spot at Berklee.”
I nod, feeling like I’m going to pass out.
“One day, when she figures out who she is as an artist, as a person, I’m sure she’ll blossom. But, as things stand now, she’s not there yet. Not even close, if I’m being honest. I’m sorry, Georgie. She’s a pass for me.”
It’s worst-case scenario. Way worse than I could have imagined. A truly gut-wrenching disappointment. Without meaning to do it, I whimper and then clutch Reed’s arm with urgency.
“If you saw Alessandra perform live, I know you’d be able to see how special?—”
“No, Georgie. Don’t. It’s over. I’m not on the fence about her. Not in the least. She’s not for me.”
I can’t believe my ears. I feel physically sick. Like the room is spinning. “But... when you listened to Bryce’s sister, you said young artists always need room to grow and develop.” Tears begin welling in my eyes, unbidden, despite my fervent desire to keep my eyes dry as a bone. “Ally just needs a little professional guidance. If she could get some coaching to help boost her confidence, I know?—”
“Georgie, stop. Please. My answer is no.”
I blink and the tears welled in my eyes squirt down my cheeks.
“Aw, Georgie. I knew this would happen.” He reaches out to wipe my cheek with this thumb, but I jerk my face away, too ashamed at myself for crying in front of him, for doing exactly what I promised Iwouldn’t do, to let him comfort me. Actually, he’s the last person I want comforting me right now. I hate that I’m reacting like this. In fact, I’m livid with myself for it.
But when I jerk away from Reed, it’s immediately clear he’s misinterpreting my body language. He doesn’t know I’m angry with myself. He thinks I’m punishinghim. Taking my proverbial ball from the playground after not being chosen for a team and marching home.
“So predictable,” he says, his tone turning acidic on a dime. “I don’t get to touch the merchandise if I didn’t pay yourprice?”
I’m shocked. Disgusted.Pissed.
Shaking his head, Reed retracts his hand from me and says, his voice low and intense, “Yes, Georgina. I told you young artists often need time to grow and develop. You might recall, however, that I made that comment when Ithoughtwe were having a conversation about music scoutingin general. When I didn’t have a clue we wereactuallytalking about your stepsister, specifically. If I’d been privy to that information, then I would have clarified that, yes, I’m willing to help a young, wild bucking bronco of an artist learn to rein him or herself in a bit. To control their wildness. There’s nothing better than barely contained chaos. But what I’m not willing to do, Georgina,ever, is try to coax a painfully shy pony who’s afraid of her own shadow to poke her goddamned head out of the barn and take a fucking risk.”
I gasp.Asshole.
“Life is too fucking short to try to coax someone out of their shell.”
I’m aghast. Flooded with a whole bunch of emotions. Anger. Shock. Regret. Disappointment. Embarrassment. But, yeah, mostly…rage. At Reed, for being a dick right now. He doesn’t want to sign Alessandra? Okay. Fine. No need to be a prick about it.
I know this is business to him, but I’m lying next to him on his bed in my pajamas, while he’s nearly naked. It’s not like we’re sitting across from each other at his office! It’s not like I’m some stranger off the street, like that poor girl who asked him to listen to her demo at the bar—but he’s treating me exactly like her! After fucking me—after eating me out—am I seriouslynodifferent to him than that poor girl at the bar? Would it kill him to soften his rejection, just this once, so as not to decimate me?
But I’m equally mad at myself, as well, for being stupid enough to say the words “painfully shy” to Reed about Alessandra the other night.Obviously, I doomed my poor stepsister in Reed’s eyes before he’d even heard her first note. Why was I so stupid?
Reed exhales. “Look, I know this is disappointing to you, but that’s life. You promised you’d handle my opinion maturely, and that’s exactly what I expect you to do.”
Adrenaline surging inside my veins, I leap up from the bed and barrel toward the door. If I don’t extract myself from this situation for a bit to cool down, I’ll surely say something I’ll regret.
“Goddammit,” Reed barks from behind me. “Don’t be so dramatic, Georgie. You promised you wouldn’t let my opinion affect our time together.”
I whirl around at the door. “Okay, first off, I’m not beingdramatic, Reed. This isn’t an act, designed to get a reaction out of you. I’m sincerely, genuinely crushed and in need of a minute to process my overwhelming and unexpected emotions.” I’m shaking. Flailing.“Gee, I’m so sorry if my pesky emotions are screwing up your plan to get laid tonight, but that’s life. Yes, it’s true I said I wouldn’t let your opinion affect our time together, but that was before I knew you’d talk to me like you’reentitledto my body. You’renot. You don’t want to sign my stepsister to River Records? Fine. Whatever. Your opinion is obviously wrong and stupid, but you’re entitled to it. But there’s no excuse for you to be a flaming prick about it, especially when I’m sitting next to you barely clothed.”
He throws up his hands. “Oh, for the love of fuck. You’re going to make this about me, when you’re the one who wouldn’t let me touch you because I didn’t give you what you wanted.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Not everything is about you.”
