“Dude,” he snaps at the guy, glaring even though his eyes fill with a sprinkle of amusement only cussing kids can conjure.
Billy holds his hands up in apology, cringing, and mutters, “My bad, bro. It’s hard to censor myself when little ears are around. I’m not exposed to these conditions often enough. I already miss being allowed my freedom of speech without catching shi- crap for it. You should put noise-canceling headphones on her when I’m around, damn it.”
“It’s one morning. Suck it up,” Mikey argues, even though Laylah has completely checked out of the conversation after dropping the D-bomb, merrily chomping away on a triple-chocolate-chip cookie. The girl is living the dream, for sure.
Sighing, the model-looking guy looks back over at me and smiles. “So, what brings you by? Did Rayne finally ask you to do the studio promo? We’ve been nagging for the longest time, especially when Gideon came in and showed us the band photos.”
Rayne sighs like he’s had this argument before, and grumbles, “We don’t need it. Our clients are high-end enough that word of mouth and our social media keep our schedules busy.”
He avoids looking at me when I turn to face him, and a somewhat mocking smile tugs at my lips when I realize he’s probably been catching shit about asking me to book a shoot. There’s even more humor in knowing that he didn’t tell his employees he was living in the same building as me, likely already realizing he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he did. It certainly makes me understand why he kept it under wraps now, and I can’t help but poke the bear.
“Damn, Rayne Cloud. They’ve been nagging? And you’ve ignored them even though we’ve had dinner together almost every day for the past two months? You didn’t even tell them we’re in a group chat and everything? Not even a single mention that I’m booked to shoot the promo for Caiden Miller, your roommate and best friend? Damn, that’s cold,” I innocentlyquip, flashing him a smug grin when his mouth falls open and he sends me an amused look of betrayal that is incredibly comical when it’s on Rayne’s face.
I don’t bother hanging around for that particular bomb to land, standing and wandering off to where I spy several chunky folders that call to me like the ocean calls to Moana. I’m already halfway across the black-and-white checkered floor, leaving Rayne under the bus I drove over him, when Billy exclaims, “You fucking what?”
And then all hell breaks loose, and I catch Mikey frantically covering Laylah’s ears right before Billy delves into a colorful tangent about what a shitheel Rayne is. It’s truly beautiful, and I’m grinning like a maniac when I reach the folders and flip the first open.
What greets me are some incredible pieces of artwork, tattoos on countless celebrities that have been labeled with the artist’s name. I’m impressed seeing how many times Rayne’s name appears, admiration filling me with every beautiful piece I come across. I didn’t doubt his work would be nothing short of stunning. I know how capable he is with his hands, and I’ve spent enough time ogling the ink that lines his skin, seeing the same style etched onto others. He must have designed his own tattoos and, I’m guessing, asked Billy, Gene, or Mikey to immortalize them onto him.
I completely ignore the men in the room while they chew Rayne a new asshole, a little sense of justice niggling its way into my chest after he decided to keep my existence a secret from these people. I’m distracted enough that I almost miss the little tug on my cargo pants and I pause, peering down only to find a set of dark eyes looking up at me, a chocolate-covered smile aimed right at my damned heart.
“Hey, sweetheart. Enjoy your cookies?” I ask her, blocking out the delightful threat Billy slings at Rayne andhoping she doesn’t hear Rayne call him a thundering glory hole in return.
Thankfully, she appears none the wiser, and she holds her arms out to me with grabby hands most children master when they’re still cute. I know a request for “uppies” if I ever saw one, having been around plenty of child stars in my career, and so I give the girl what she wants, distracting her further from the carnage I’ve created.
Gently, I pick Laylah up, impressed by how light she is. I sit her on my hip, bouncing her a little as I quietly mutter, “What say you and me go on a little adventure while the silly geese over there shout at one another, hm?”
“Silly geese,” Laylah sighs with a nod, and I bite back a smile as I walk her away from the arguing guys and beeline for the door I watched Rayne and Mikey walk through earlier. I catch Laylah’s dad’s eyes, pointing at the stairs, and he nods subtly with a barely there smile that gives me approval to steal his child and distract her from the colorful vocab happening in here.
With an exaggerated pep in my step, Laylah giggling when I dramatically act as though I’m about to drop her, I sneak us away and start a mental timer on how long it’ll take Rayne to come looking for us. I don’t plan on making it easy for him, either. Where would the fun be in that?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Maddie
“Sssh,” I plead through silent laughter, pressing my finger over my mouth while I try to get Laylah to stop giggling, sure she’ll give our hiding spot away if she keeps it up.
It’s a lost cause, because apparently there’s something incredibly funny to the girl about hiding in a closet on the second shelf that seemed sturdy enough to hold us both. We haven’t collapsed onto the floor just yet, so I have incredibly high hopes for it.
I’ve lost track of time entirely, unsure how long we’ve been in here hiding, but we’re still yet to be found. If Laylah keeps giggling the way she is, that won’t take long at all.
“They’re going to find us,” I remind her, my hushed whisper seeming to make things that much funnier for the girl, and I face-palm when her giggle turns into a beautiful laugh that I don’t doubt will be heard from outside.
Sure enough, the door swings open so suddenly that both Laylah and I scream, right before falling into a fit of laughter when the silhouette of a very unimpressed Rayne Cloud appears in the doorway.
“Silly goose,” Laylah giggles, pointing at Rayne just as her dad appears, shaking his head and looking a lot more amused than Rayne does at present.
“Madison Fowler playing hide-and-seek with a four-and-a-half-year-old. I’ve seen it all,” the blond pretty boy snickers, shoving past Rayne and holding his arms out for Laylah, who goes willingly.
Awkwardly trying to squeeze myself out of my own hiding spot, attempting and failing to drag my body from itsexpertly origami-like folding, I comment, “To be fair, it was that or let her hear Billy call Rayne a s-h-i-t sniffer and tell him to gargle on a d-i-c-k. You didn’t seem too impressed with the last insult she parroted, so you’re most welcome for this distraction.”
Mikey actually laughs, looking at his daughter with an amused shake of his head before turning to me and saying, “I appreciate it. You need help?”
I’m about to mutter confirmation, wondering how the hell I even got into this spot in the first place, but then Rayne blandly notes, “I’ve got her. I’m a bit of an expert when it comes to getting Lady Satan out of tight spots.”
I sigh, because I definitely had that coming, and I can only be grateful that the guy doesn’t divulge exactly what that could mean. Instead, Mikey nods and walks out of the spacious closet with Laylah, leaving Rayne and me alone without a backward glance.
Silence descends upon us the moment we’re alone, and in its awkwardness, I decide to keep trying to crawl out of my hiding spot. It’s a lost cause, resulting in only a lot of unladylike grunting and huffing, before Rayne finally takes pity on me. Wouldn’t be the first time, and I can hear the laughter in his voice when he says, “Why does this always happen?”
