Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“Interesting.” Rafe grins as he stares at her, then looks over at me, but I refuse to be goaded into doing this. I don’t give a shit what Rafe is thinking, or that my dick likes her smell.
“Look, darlin’, I was well into half a bottle of Jägermeister when I—”
“Courtney.” She fires right back. “I’m not your darlin’, in fact, I’m done with you, so you can go.” She smiles, but all I see is her on her knees.
Gagging.
While I shove my cock deep down her throat, my hand wrapped tightly in that thick mane of her hair, jerking her head up and down...the fuck has gotten into me?
“You did agree, man, and with her energy with you… I think Malcolm’s right, there’s something here.” Rafe’s voice thankfully forces me to look at his traitorous face and not continue down the road I was going. Christ, fucking Rafe hates everyone, he’s supposed to be my wingman, not turn against me.
“Let me see the napkin,” Rafe demands to Malcolm as he reaches into his suit jacket for his glasses, and I start laughing because are they kidding me?
“Look.” I clear my throat and lean forward to rest my elbows on the table. “Courtney’s got pipes, I didn’t want to be a dick, but I don’t like her, it’s just that simple.”
“Oh my God.” She gasps. “You think I like you? You’re old…and everything that I despise…” Her lips deepen to a dark red velvet and her cheeks stain pink.
“Okay, calm down, both of you,” Rafe interrupts. “Do you know how many band members have hated each other? Guns N’ Roses, Oasis, Pink Floyd, Eagles…need I go on? Now, is this your signature?” He shoves the napkin in her face.
“Well… yes, but—”
“And I know that this is yours, so Malcolm’s right. This is a binding contract, completely legal.” He takes off his glasses as Tim and a couple other waiters start to bring out the food.
“I’ll book the Sunset Studio; I think you two will work better there rather than the one at
your house.” Rafe pockets his glasses as I wait to speak until all the food is delivered.
“You think that I should do this?” I snort.
“I don’t think you have a choice, unless you want to deal with fighting this out for years in court.” He sniffs, looking at me deadpan.
“Um, hello?” Courtney waves at Rafe, “I refuse to work with him, and he just said he does not like me.” Her eyes widen as she looks around the table.
“He was joking.” Malcolm smiles. Dick. He knows he’s got me, unless I want to go through all the energy and waste of my time to take this to court, which is absurd. It’d be way more of a hassle than just producing an album, and the fucker knows this.
What’s a couple months in the studio? I mean, I do have the time, and I am the best.
I cock my head as I look at Courtney, really look at her. She’s gorgeous, and she’s used it to make a huge name for herself. But something’s missing. It’s like she’s holding back, or maybe just hasn’t found her real voice yet.
“I wasn’t. But they’re right, we don’t have to like each other. Be in the studio at eight AM on Monday. You have the songs ready, I assume, so send them to me,” I state, not caring that she looks like I just slapped her in the face. Rafe and Malcolm are right, this will work. Because I won’t let it fail.
This is not gonna be some pop girl band, this will be me transforming Courtney, and that thought just makes my dick get harder.
“I’m gonna work over the weekend. If you need me, you remember where I live.” I wink and stand. “You also need to trust me to get rid of that whine you seem to favor…oh, and lose that diva, drama shit.”
“You can’t be serious?” She looks around the table as she points at me. “What the hell is happening?” Courtney’s voice makes me grin, and even though she’s nothing but drama, she’s got charisma and something more… I just need to find the key to unleash it.
“Get ready, princess, we work late, and we don’t stop until I say so. We’ll either make gold, or we’ll die trying.” With that, I nod at Malcolm, who has a big grin on his face.
I don’t look back at her.
I don’t engage with any of her loud threats; Rafe can deal with her since Malcolm seems unable to.
Instead, all I do is just smile at Tim, pat his shoulder, and leave through the glass doors.
COURTNEY
I’m in hell, like this has to be what it feels like.
“Court, sweetheart, Ammo, stepped away…you can take five.” Malcolm’s voice fills the studio room where I’m two seconds away from losing it.