Break The Bed(9)

Besides, she had work to do. Lots of work.

Damage control from that interview last night for starters.

She sighed and pushed herself out of bed. Nick was leaving on tour tomorrow. A twisted part of her knew she was going to miss him. When he wasn’t being a bastard, she’d never been so entertained in her life.

She had a lot of work to do to make sure everything was ready. She had a terrific tour manager who handled the accommodations and travel arrangements. But she still needed to make sure he was booked on the best TV shows and radio stations. And she had to make sure the PR team got his concert into the right newspapers and blogs.

It was important to her. She had to make sure her artists were well cared for, so they could focus on the music. That’s all that mattered.

Not that Nick deserved her help after what he had done.

But could she really say she was surprised? He was like a caged tiger and she'd poked him repeatedly with a stick. She’d dared to tell him his concerts sales were lagging. His ego was bruised. She should have expected some sort of retaliation, though she couldn’t have imagined it would get so personal.

It still hurt though. She'd thought he was beginning to respect her at least. Maybe even treat her as a friend.

Apparently not.

Last night she'd come home and just wanted to forget everything. Instead, she'd had a brief conversation with her father. His voice was barely above a whisper but it was the best ten minutes of her day.

He'd wanted to hear all about her job and what she was working on. She'd done her best to talk fast, before the pain got too bad and he had to get off the phone. He'd told her how proud he was of her success. He'd reminded her that her mother would have said 'Good. Now work harder.'

It was never enough for them. Not all the straight A’s, or the nights home studying instead of going on dates or to parties. Not the chores around the house.

They expected her to succeed.

They demanded it.

Her Aunt had taken the phone away from him and given Sabrina a curt goodnight before hanging up abruptly. She'd stared at the phone, wondering if this was the last time she'd speak to her father.

She always wondered that.

That’s why she saved all his voice messages, even backing them up to the cloud. She never knew if she’d be able to talk to him, one last time. At least she knew if she played the messages, she would be able to hear his voice.

Eventually, she'd just gorged herself on rocky road ice cream and crawled into bed wearing her mother's old nightgown. It still smelled like her, just the tiniest bit. But she hadn’t slept. She'd tossed and turned half the night, imagining the fall out from last night.

She stretched and went into the kitchen. It was 6 am. Time for coffee and then she could do some emailing before heading into the office.

Her phone was flashing. She had missed a call. Already.

It was from her boss.

Oh crap.

She ran to her laptop and refreshed her inbox.

She had one new email. Just one.

The subject read: Nick Falcon Upcoming Tour

It was from her boss. The BIG boss. The head of the entire A&R department. She took a deep breath and read it. It was beyond her wildest imaginings.

Dear God.

It was so much worse than she could have imagined.



Sabrina,



You've done so well with the Falcon account that we've decided you should be more hands on. You will be accompanying Nick Falcon for the next two months on the first leg of his tour. Then you'll have a short break before the second half in Asia. We expect you to be on the lookout for fresh talent, as well as keeping Nick on track. You must be available to him 24/7.



Your salary will receive a 20% bump, as well as a generous food and entertainment per diem.



Your other clients will be looked after when you are gone as a temporary measure. This is a really big step in your career, Sabrina. Keep up the good work.



-Adam





Sabrina stared at her computer screen. Was this a joke? Did they really expect her to be 'hands on?' What did that even mean? 24/7??? It sounded like they wanted her to be at her clients beck and call for God's sake.

There was only one thing for certain. Nick Falcon was behind this. And there was no way she was letting him get away with it.





Chapter 17





Nick





"Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one. Don't stop! Thirty-two. Come on Nick!"

Sandy was leaning on his back, pressing down on him with her body weight, while he did resistance push ups. It was his fifth bloody set of the day and he was tired.

He hadn't slept well last night.

He'd been thinking about her.

"I'm done, love. Tapped. Sorry."

He bent his arms and rolled onto his back. Sandy smiled down at him suggestively. He felt not a lick of attraction for her.

Not the tiniest spark.

"Does that mean you aren't going to fuck me today either?"

He shook his head.

"Sorry, love. It's just not in the cards. Not that you don't look delectable as always."

She rolled her eyes at him and handed him a towel.

"I saw you on TV last night."

He said nothing, just blotted some of the sweat off his face.

"You looked good."

"It's all thanks to you, doll."

She laughed and tossed him a water bottle.

"Stretch. Go slow, don’t hold it.”

He pulled hard on the water and tossed the towel around his neck. He reached for his toes, as Sandy came up behind him and pressed gently down on his back. It felt sublime.

"So was that true? About you having a girlfriend?"

He snorted, straightening his back and reaching overhead to stretch his sides.

"No, love. Nothing of the sort. It was an exaggeration.”

"But-"

Sandy was acting a bit clingy. He wondered briefly if he’d led her on in some way over the months of occasional bonking. He’d never been anything but cordial to her, but he’d never wanted more.

He was trying to think of a way to change the subject when Sabrina burst into the room. Marley was right behind her, waving his hands.

Good. He'd been expecting her. Hell, he'd been looking forward to this.

He drank her in like a cool drink of water in the Sahara.

There it was. His mojo wasn’t broken after all. His cock sprang to immediate attention.

"Sorry Nick- she ran past me."

He smiled at her. Jesus, the air went right out of his lungs at the sight of her. She wasn't dressed for work for once. She was wearing jeans and a white cotton button down. She looked good.

No, better than good.

She looked bloody gorgeous as usual.

And angrier than a hornet.

"What the hell, Nick? Did you seriously go above my head to get even with me? I'm trying to help your career in case you weren't aware. I'm not doing this for my own amusement!"

He smiled at her. She looked spectacular with her eyes blazing and her cheeks bright pink. Some women really were prettier when they were angry.

He was thrilled that he’d finally cracked her hard exterior shell. Now maybe he’d have a chance at the gooey bits.

"I am."

That brought her up short. Her jaw dropped open. It was a good look for her, believe it or not.

"What?"

He stood and took a long swig from his bottle.

"I am doing this for my own amusement."

Her mouth remained open as she stared at him, completely at a loss for words.

“Careful, love. You’re going to catch flies if you don’t shut your mouth.”

Her jaw snapped shut and she glowered at him. Hmmm… he liked it. She looked bloody spectacular.

"You don't even know what you are doing to me, do you?”

“What’s that, love?”

“You’re destroying my entire career!”

He shook his head slowly.

“I doubt that.”

“Can't you just call Jerry back and ask him to change his mind?"

He smiled patronizingly. He didn't have a clue what she was going on about. There was no way he was changing his mind about bringing her on tour. She could go on and be angry for as long as she wanted, just as long as she ended up in his bed.

It wasn’t that he wanted to upset her, even if it was a turn on to see her all fired up. He knew he was being a cad. But he didn't care.

He was going to win.

"I'm going to need extra special attention during the tour. How else can the label be sure I'm actually showing up for my appearances? You're the one who set them up darling, so you're the best bet to handle my needs."

"Handle- your what?"

"You heard me sweetheart. Pack your bags, we leave in less than-"

He checked his watch, enjoying himself tremendously.

"Fifteen hours."

"But-"

"No buts, darling. Accept your fate."

He grabbed her hand and froze, startled by the electricity that crackled where he touched her. Her skin was so soft… He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss there.

Christ, she smelled good!

"Sorry, sweetheart. But this is checkmate."

He smiled roguishly at the outraged look on her face. She yanked her hand from his and stormed out of the room. Marley threw his hands in the air and followed her out.

He turned around to see Sandy watching him with a calculating expression. She was smiling faintly, as if she knew something he didn’t. He scowled at her, feeling like he’d been caught with his britches down.

"So that's why you don't want to fuck."

"What are you on about now?"

She shook her head.

"You've got it bad, Nick. I've never seen you this way."

"I just like messing with her. She's got a rail up her ass. And what a nice ass it is."