I took a breath, toying with the straw of my now empty glass. “You’re playing a show and I’m still slinging drinks in a strip club. Feels unbalanced, rockstar.”
“Quit then.” He said it so easy, too. “Thirty-five K was just the opening bid. I’ll cover your rent for a year, two years, whatever. Film all the videos you want on my balcony. Or my studio. Or the tour bus when we hit the road again.”
My finger stopped at the rim of the glass. “And what? Become your kept woman? Full-time Baby Doll?”
“Better than letting drunk assholes grab your ass every night.” His thumb pressed into the soft spot behind my knee. “I don’t share well, Mary.”
My eyes narrowed. “You shared me with half the club when you offered to buy me like a bottle of whiskey.”
“Ancient history.” He grinned. “A whole month ago. I’m a changed man.”
That made me laugh. “Yeah, alright.”
“I’m serious, doll. Want to keep that apartment? I’ll pay for it. But you’ll spend nights in my bed.”
“Doesn’t sound like there’s much room for argument.”
His grey eyes locked on me. “There isn’t,” he said, and then — “I always get what I want, doll.”
That sounded like both a threat and a promise, and I don’t know what turned me on more.
She quit her job at the Gilded Lily the next day. We both knew Mary liked to be taken care of, and I didn’t see a reason for her to continue sweating her ass off in a filthy strip club, when I had money to burn. I could’ve been poor — penniless — and I still would’ve made sure she would never have to lift her finger. Women didn’t need to know that bills were due —mywomen were made for leisure.
I tried to focus on what Barb — our manager — was saying about the Friday gig, but it was too early and I was still mentally living in a different time zone. The one where Mary’s legs were wrapped around my waist and she was moaning my name.
Good God, Milo — get your head out of the gutter.
“…label wants the setlist locked by tonight,” Barb droned on, clicking through slides on her laptop. “No new material, stick tothe hits. And for fuck’s sake, Milo, keep your head in the game, yeah?”
I looked up from my phone. “Me? What the fuck did I do?”
“I heard about your club proposal.” Barb’s eyes locked on me. In another life I would’ve considered bending her over this fine conference table, but that train had long since left the station. A few too many arguments over trivial shit and suddenly the little Milo down south didn’t want to cooperate. I didn’t blame him. Barb had a hot East London accent — but the things she said in it — well. Made sense why she was our manager and not Mrs. Cross.
“My club proposal?” I feigned ignorance. “That don’t ring any bells.”
“Sure, it doesn’t. Anyway — minimal drinking before the show — and absolutely no groupies. Is that understood?” Barb pinned me with that sharp, no-bullshit stare she’d perfected over the years.
I leaned back in the leather conference chair, spinning my phone between my fingers. “Groupies? Come on, Barb. My middle name’s Abstinence.”
Killian, sitting across the table, nearly choked on his coffee. Brett snorted. Owen just grinned like the degenerate he was.
“You think you’re cute,” Barb mused. I could’ve sworn her eye was a second away from twitching.
“I think I’m adorable,” I said and winked at her.
I thought she would launch her laptop at me but instead she smirked and said: “Perfect. Bottle that up.” She pointed a finger at me. “I want that same energy on Friday.”
The meeting dragged on for another forty minutes. Setlists, promo obligations, some bullshit about a possible European leg if the new single charted well — which was a gamble because wedidn’t havea new single. I nodded in all the right places, but my mind kept drifting back to the penthouse. Mary was probablystill in my bed right now, tangled in my sheets. Fuck, I wanted to be there with her.
When Barb finally dismissed us, Killian fell into step beside me in the hallway.
“You really got her to quit the club?” he asked, quiet enough that the others wouldn’t hear.
“Yeah.”
He gave me a long look. “You sure that’s smart? Moving that fast?”
I shrugged. “She hated it. And I don’t want other men looking at her like that anymore.”
