Page 115 of Strum Me

Chapter Thirty-Six

Brad

He opens the door wider and moves aside for me to step inside the apartment. It’s actually the band’s rehearsal space and the room is set up with their equipment. There are two of the other members there, fiddling with their instruments, and I give them a wave.

“Hey,” one of them replies, and they take a hint and both stand up and leave the room.

“So, what can I do for you? Or are you just here to pick up some performing tips? I mean, I’m not saying you could use them, but hey, frankly? You could use them.”

His tone comforts rather than irritates, because now I know there’s no need for fake politeness, for false modesties. Which is good. I have no patience left for that.

“When you get your first, well, any award at all that we haven’t won yet? I’ll be the first one to sign up for lessons.”

“You’ll have to get in line.”

“From what I hear, you have a revolving door.”

“You see, that’s what I never liked about you Brad. You seem to think that being popular with women is an insult.”

“No, and you know better than to think that I’m some virginal saint. But I do think that the quality of the people going through your revolving door is an insult in itself.”

“I don’t know, we’ve had the same person go through our revolving doors—are you saying she’s a slut?”

His use of the harsh word temporarily surprises me. For all our talk of women, and hell, our experience with them, it’s always because we’ve loved them, found them beautiful, sexy, passionate. Never would we use the word “slut” to describe any of them. Jokingly or not.

“I don’t know who you mean, but it’s not someone I’ve ever had the pleasure of being acquainted with.”

“Cut the crap. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to make you a deal. And trust me, you’re not going to refuse it.”

“Because you’re going to make me?”

“No, because of how much you’re going to want it.”

“What isit?”

“In all seriousness, what is this with Emily and Ben, huh? You want her working for you? Bullshit, you could get any other PR person, journalist, whatever, for half the price.”

“How do you know what I’m paying her?”

“Because I know how much her paper was paying her, and that you’re at least matching that. Apparently you’re a dick, but you’re not stingy.”

“Maybe it’s because she’s good at what she does, if you know what I mean?” The sleazy way he raises his eyebrow makes me want to punch it right off his face. I tangle my fingers with each other behind my back to wait out the impulse.

“And Ben?”

“He’s my son. I don’t need any other reason than that.”

“It wasn’t a good enough reason before now.”

“People change.”

“People don’t change that much.”

“Circumstances change then.”

“Now it’s your turn to cut the crap. We both know what the reason is. It’s me.”