“No, you wantPhee.”
He flinched. “I don’t want Phee. I was an asshole. I wanted the ego boost, and I idiotically thought I could come right back to you like nothing had happened.”
I shook my head.
“The fucking ego on you.”
“Let me make it up.I swear you won’t regret it.”
“Why did you refuse to produce an album for me before?”
Hurt would have bled through my words before, and I’d always been too proud to beg for his favors. Or even ask. Because surely he would have suggested it if he’d thought I was good?
So I had always assumed I just wasn’t good enough. Didn’t have the voice Phee did.
“Why would I want you to record an album?” he asked. He was close, too close, with that seductive low voice and the fucking taste of power. “Your voice is so fucking dirty and lascivious and naughty that I don’t want you singing for everyone. I want you singing forme.”
I drew back, sticking one very pointy tip of my high heel into his broad chest.
“Oh, so you’ve never produced an album for me because you’re a controlling asshole, not because you don’t think my voice is good enough.”
“That’s right.”
“How charming.”
I dug my toe in. All those years of thinking I wasn’t good enough, and that had never been it.
“So will you let me produce an album for you?”
“And I’m expected to suck your dick in return, I suppose.”
“No.No,” he gritted out. “No strings attached.”
“I doubt it, but yeah. Yeah, I’ll let you produce an album for me. And if it’s successful, maybe I’ll think about listening to more of your miserable apologies. They amuse me.”
“Oh Birdie,” he said eagerly, thinking he’d won, because he was so cocky. “It’ll be a success. I guarantee it.”
“Interesting that you guarantee that. You haven’t even heard what’s going to be on the album yet.”
Chapter nine
Birdie
Two days later I rolled up to the recording studio downtown in a limo. Forrest was throwingeverythingat this reconciliation, but I was still pissed as hell.
His expectation that I would just be waiting for him at home galled at me. The fucking filthy richegoon him.
He absolutely hadn’t cared whether I was a gold-digger or not. The matter was of complete indifference to him, because he was so attracted to me.
It was probably my sheer delusions that we were well-matched. Had some special connection. Otherwise, heneverwould have paused the wedding, no matter what he was scrambling to argue now.
Though I knew Hieronymus and Paige were begging him to start rehearsals for Phantom of the Bloody Opera, he was insistent that recording my album came first.
Even though I was not at all thawing, I’d have to be an idiot to refuse this album. It could be the start of my career.
Even though it wasn’t going to be anything like he expected.
Forrest had told me to bring my favorite twelve songs. I believe he was under the impression that I was going to bring some of the throaty folk ballads I’d written.
