I don’t even know what to say to this man. It’s been months since I’ve last seen him. Hell, maybe even a year. It’s hard to believe that I used to look at this man and think I was going to spend the rest of my life with him.
But now all I can see is anger, bitterness, and a touch of resentment.
“What are you doing out and about? I didn’t think you liked showing your face?”
“You mean you didn’t like me showing my face. Thought it put too much of myself out there for my fans.”
More like he didn’t want me to hear the wrong thing from the wrong person about what he was actually doing.
Like embezzling money from me.
How he’s walking around and not in jail is beyond me. But bail was set and I couldn’t argue with my attorney about it.
“I haven’t seen you perform much of anywhere lately.” He ignores my comment. “You know, I could make this all go away.”
“Oh?” I quirk a brow at him. “What would that entail?”
I adjust the brim of my hat, allowing myself a better look at him. Eric is the same age as Jasper, but that’s where the similarities end.
Jasper is fit and wears his age with pride. So what if he has a few wrinkles or some gray hairs? It makes him sexy.
Eric? It’s like he’s walking around with a layer of makeup so the world can’t see therealhim.
I can’t believe I was ever attracted to him.
“You can come back and work with me. Make terrific music again. It’d be great.”
“Great? Just like that?” I snap my fingers to emphasize my point.
“Don’t you want that?” The grin becomes even smarmier. “I know that plastic smile of yours isn’t real. Not when it comes to me. We did great things together, baby.”
“I’m not your baby anymore,” I snap. “Do you really think I wouldevercome back and work with you when you’ve been stealing from me for years?”
“I’m taking what’s mine, Quinn. You need to grow up and learn how this business works.” The façade drops, annoyance sliding into its place. “How do you think you got into all those clubs to perform when you were under twenty-one? You wouldn’t be where you are without me and my influence.”
“That makes you entitled to my money?”
“Mymoney,” he corrects.
“Get fucked, Eric,” I spit out, brushing past him to leave.
“Now, now. Is that really the way you should talk to me?”
He stops me with a hand on my shoulder. Not hard, but certainly unwanted. It sends rage coursing through me.
“If you don’t want me to make a public scene, I suggest you take your hand off of me.Right now.”
He steps back, hands splayed in defense. “I wasn’t doing anything. But you should think about my offer.”
“And if you want to talk anymore, you have my lawyer’s number.”
This time, I leave without him stopping me.
“Is that really how it’s going to be?” he calls out after me.
I ignore him. Anger rages through me at running into him.
I hate him more than anyone else on the planet.
