There was literally not another female on the planet that drove him as crazy as this one. Naturally, he had to go and fall in love with her too.
“Like hell you will. Listen to me,” he said, lowering his voice to a cross between a whisper and a warning. “I told you about this. I vowed to protect Rae when we were kids and I failed back then. But this time I won’t let her down. She will get to recover in peace and without the vultures surrounding her and turning her into something she’s not.”
She huffed out a breath. He half-expected her to stomp her foot.
“Now you listen to me. I know Rae wouldn’t want you to do this. You’ve worked so hard, Trace, and you don’t deserve this. Just tell them the truth.” She shook her head and pinned him with those wide blue eyes of hers. “I used to think you were a selfish jackass, and now I know you’re just a jackass. All the stuff I thought was selfish was just you punishing yourself for everyone else’s mistakes.” She stepped even closer to him, making his head swim from her intoxicating scent. “So…how about you fucking quit that now?”
He forced himself to focus the best he could and ignore the urge to grab her to him like a damn animal.
“I’ll work on it. But this isn’t up to you. And if you care about Rae at all—or hell, if you care about me at all—you won’t say a word about either of us in there.”
“Trace,” she pleaded, her eyes growing wider as she looked up at him. “Sometimes you have to choose yourself. Sometimes you need to do what’s best for you.”
He stared at her for a moment. Part of him understood where she was coming from and he knew she’d never had any siblings. Never had anyone she’d felt responsible for.
“And sometimes you have to choose love, Kylie Lou. Even when it isn’t the smart choice, or even the best one for all involved parties.”
Before she could argue with him anymore, a receptionist called for them.
“Here we go, kiddos,” Maude said as the doors to the conference room opened.
KYLIE WATCHED Trace take his seat next to Pauly across from her. He steepled his fingers below his chin and her stomach twisted.
Sometimes you have to choose love.
She agreed. And she loved him enough to see what he was doing today was a mistake.
“Well look what we have here. So the two of you can actually show up for scheduled appointments?” Noel Davies paused to glare at each of them. “Good to know. I was beginning to wonder.”
“Neither of them have ever missed an appointment with the label,” Maude objected.
“Right. It’s just performances they can’t seem to make it to,” Davies clarified.
Kylie shot him a dirty look. This man made her want to stick her tongue out at him. Right before giving him a solid knee to the crotch. Lulu would’ve threatened to junk-punch him for sure.
“Do they have detention after school, Mr. Davies? Or is there an actual point to this meeting?”
Sometimes Kylie wasn’t sure about Maude Lowenstein. And sometimes she kind of loved her.
“Oh, there’s a point. Several, actually.” He smiled at the members of the table, though to her it felt more like a baring of teeth. “First, there’s the matter of revenue lost by the canceled shows and refunded tickets.”
The room fell silent.
“For which each artist will be billed individually. They will split the cost of vendor fees, refunded tickets, sponsor—”
“Just put it on my tab, Davies,” Trace broke in. “None of it had anything to do with her.”
“Oh, but it did,” the man countered. “And, Miss Ryans, in the future, if you decide to publically refer to any Capital Letter recording artist as a cheap imitation of another, please know you are opening yourself up to a lawsuit from not only that artist but from the label as well.”
She lowered her eyes briefly. She’d known better, but Bryce Parker was a repulsive swine. He’d met her at the show in Oklahoma, joining the tour as Trace’s replacement, and he’d made more than one inappropriate comment to her on the bus and a few in front of her band, which had almost led to a brawl. Ending the tour then and there hadn’t been a tough decision to make.
She squared her shoulders. “Well, Mr. Davies, in the future, if any of your other artists invite me to ride their face or their dick to the next stop instead of the tour bus, please know they are opening themselves up for me to bury my knee in their balls. And I’m sure my attorney would love to discuss a possible sexual harassment lawsuit against the label for forcing such a disgusting scumbag on me without my prior consent.”