Sweet Melody (Rock & Rodeo Romance #1) (21 page)

“
Y
ou can’t just walk away
.” Mel’s voice echoes in my bathroom from my phone propped up on a towel and the toothbrush holder.

My fingers work gel in through my hair. “Well, they can’t arrest us and chain us there at the offices. So technically, we can walk away.”

“I meant from your contract, asshat. It seriously can’t be all that bad.”

I freeze and bend down so she can see my face. “Need I remind you of the shirt?”

She smiles. “There are other country stars who wear shirts exactly like that.”

“Not unbuttoned down to here.” My finger touches the top of my abs.

“Where?”

I tap myself. “Here.”

“Pick up the phone so I can get a closer look at where you’re talking about. Or move that finger further south.”

Her sassy mouth causes my dick to stir awake. No time for those types of games this particular morning. I flip her off.

“You can start with that one finger, but you better add another one if you want to feel me come.”

My cock pays even more attention. It starts its own internal argument about having time to canoodle together.

I groan. “Fuck, you’re gonna have to stop, baby, or I’m gonna lock myself in here.”

She laughs. “Okay, okay. So, you feel like the music they want you to record fundamentally changes your image, right?”

I pull up my jeans and tuck Mr. Happy away to focus. “Yeah. That’s part of it. We’ve never been a beer-swilling, no responsibilities, partying type of group. I mean, we’ve done the covers, sure.”

“You guys can play anything and make it sound good. But that’s not the point. Now that a larger audience is going to hear your music, you want it to have integrity. You want everyone to get to know the real band, not some fake image.”

My girl always understands the important things without me having to spell it out. Fuck, I wish she were here in person so I could kiss her face off right now. A picture or video with her in it definitely isn’t enough. Another problem that needs fixing. But not now.

“Well, here’s my two cents. And remember, this comes from a girl who’s never been in the business and only recently recorded a song because she was banging the lead singer of the band.”

I pause and pick up the phone. “Baby, you recorded a song because you have serious talent. And the lead singer would like to bang you whether you sing with him or not.”

She closes her eyes for a second. Her hair spreads under her head and over the pillow as she lies on her side, talking. Looking at me, the corner of her mouth crooks up. “Thank you for that. I was thinking that I would have jumped you right now if I were there. God, I miss you, Hunter.”

My heart stops beating for a moment at her breathy confession. For a split second, the space between us closes, and I feel her presence with me, supporting me.

“We’re going to have to fix that particular problem soon, you know.”

She sighs. “Shit, yeah, I know. I can’t just take a vacation since I used up a bunch of days off before you left. I’ve got bills to pay and a life I have to lead right here for now. But maybe I can take some time off in like a month.”

A month? Too fucking long. Maybe while we’re at the office today, Mac and I can continue working on our additional promotion plan.

EJ bangs on my bedroom door. I pull my black T-shirt over my head and tell him to give me a few more minutes.

“Shit. I’ve gotta go.” With my phone in my hand, I carry her with me into my bedroom.

“Then let me get this last piece in. Remember this. Every last one of you is a true musician. Talented as fuck. And they can’t take your talent away from you no matter what. Even though they heard what you played at the Showcase, load your absolute best on your phone and have that in your pocket. Play them for whoever you’re talking to. Make them see who you are.”

Why hadn’t we thought of that? What use is having technology if we can’t use it to our advantage? Mac needs to bring his computer with him so we can transfer some of our latest rough cuts from our downtime jam sessions.

She finishes. “And if that doesn’t do it, then fuck ‘em. Whatever you and the boys decide, you know you’ve got my support. In this day and age, you can build a career by connecting with the fans directly. You can control the social media rather than letting it fuck with you.”

“Fuck, Mel. I love you.” The words burst out of my mouth. My heart swells with pride, appreciation, and so much fucking love.

A shy smile spreads on her lips. “Love you, too.”

Those words cover me as my shield. No matter what goes down, my girl says she loves me without pain, without suffering. She’s the only true fan I’ll ever need.

“Let me know how things go. Now, go get ‘em, Cowboy.”

T
he shiny office
building conveys everything it was built to do. It exudes success and power on a grand scale. It buzzes with activity, people running around, doing work, waiting for meetings, carrying papers. Large artistic photo banners of the most successful artists produced by the Lyric Ridge Records hang on the extensive walls.

EJ leans into me and quotes some of our favorite lines from a cult classic about storming the castle. Hart joins in and asks if I think it’ll work.

“It’ll take a huge fucking miracle,” I breathe out. The five of us chuckle.

Aislynn walks toward us. She looks every bit the young executive. Her hair falls in perfect waves, and her dress shows off her curves.

“Damn, if she wasn’t such a calculating bitch that reminded me a bit too much of your ex, I’d actually try to hit on her,” EJ adds.

Her heels stop clicking when she stands in front of us. “Hunter.” She spends an extra second addressing me directly. “Boys. Right on time. Follow me.”

When the elevator doors open, she takes my arm and pulls me in the right direction. Unable to shrug her off without offense, I allow her hands to stay on my bicep. She grips me a little too tight for my liking.

At the door to a glassed-in conference room, she stops and waves us all in. Anyone can watch the meeting and see what goes down. The advantage goes to them. Assistants run in and out of the room to talk to Aislynn, pour us water, or offer to get us anything we want.

Our asses sit at the end of the table in comfortable leather chairs. Everything around us screams money. Instead of excitement pumping through me, a sense of dread overtakes my confidence. If we walk out, they have enough power and finances behind them to smash us to pieces. It’s clear who the royalty is and who’s the motherfucking serfs in a room like this.

Aislynn stands up when she spots three men walking down the hall toward the room. She holds open the door for them. Instead of the queen bee bossing people around, she switches into a more submissive roll.

The guy in the middle of the two suits strides over to us. His face looks familiar. He shakes all of our hands in turn. When he gets to mine, he places his other hand on top to show how truly happy he is to meet me. The subtle hints and actions that shove a wedge between the rest of the guys and me reignite the fire in my belly.

“Hey, guys. I’m Price Howard.”

He introduces the other two men, but my focus hones in on the one at the head of the table. He goes out of his way not to look like the other two. Simple shirt. Jeans, no doubt expensive. Cowboy boots. He wants us to think he’s one of us. His age is harder to figure out. Judging by his face, he’s older than us, but his physique suggests he still cares about his image. Maybe in his late 30’s, early 40’s. Hard to think of him in charge of something so important at his age.

Mac leans to whisper to me. “What the hell is Price Howard doing in this meeting? He manages some big names. Like Stacia Rollins.”

Fuck, I knew I recognized him. In all my research, his face has popped up a few different times. But Mac knows everyone, making it his mission to understand all of the business side for us.

Aislynn turns her chair and her entire body to face Price, offering him a megawatt smile. “Welcome Price. I’m so happy we could all meet today to discuss the Showcase and the future for Hunter and his band. I hope we can talk about and show you some of our new direction for A&R at Lyric Ridge and what we can do for star artists.”

The guys to the left of me shift in their seats. Not one of us misses the fired shot of Aislynn singling me out again.

Price smiles down the table at us. “Your first performance in Nashville was a great way to start. Tailgate Down by far has the most potential to explode on the scene. You guys know how to work a stage.”

Mac speaks up. “It was an incredible opportunity for us to show what we can do.”

Aislynn interrupts over his last word. “They are so talented, Price. They can play just about anything. So far, the songs we’ve given them sound like instant hits to me. Like the one that brought the house down at the end. If they play like that, they’ll be a household name within the year.”

Fucking conniving bitch. She has her own agenda to attack with, and the ear of the most important exec in the room.

All eyes of my band turn to me. I take a deep breath. “Thank you for the compliment, Aislynn. It’s been an absolute privilege to be included in the cadre of incredible artists you have here, and especially to play for the Showcase. As we all discussed with you, though, we’re even more excited to play the new stuff we’ve been working on. So the households who get to know our name know what we stand for.”

The smile on my face masks the absolute terror coursing through me. The old saying of killing them with kindness only works if they have a weak spot. Aislynn turns her hard gaze on me, challenging me to bring it on.

The temporary smirk she flashes me turns into a radiant smile when she addresses Price. “While their original music does show off their considerable talent, the songs produced so far aren’t going to necessarily get the numbers we need.”

Price taps his fingers in a triangle in front of his face as he leans back in his chair. “There are some hidden gems in what I’ve listened to so far. Some of those songs might be perfect for another of our artists if worked the right way. Thanks to the team of Mr. Ford there and Mr. Summers.” He looks at the other guys for clarification, and Mac raises his hand. Price nods at him.

Mac’s knee hits mine, indicating he’s got the same question I have. What the hell’s Price Howard doing listening to our music? Although, he doesn’t hate it. One point for our side.

He continues. “But you haven’t hit the mark yet. And we have access to songwriters and a full catalog of songs to choose from to help find you a blockbuster. With today’s social media and current technology, we can push you guys out much faster than it used to take. Building your image, you can hit it big right away.”

My stomach drops at the same time Aislynn’s face beams. The last resort of walking away from our deal in breach of contract looms in the near future. Mac and the other guys look at me. They all give me a slight nod, giving me permission to drop the bomb when I need to.

Price straightens up in his chair as he spots someone outside the room. All three of the execs stand up. Aislynn follows their gaze and does the same. We’re the last to see who they’re paying respect to.

Stacia Rollins walks down the hall, trailed by two young women hanging on to her every word. Her flaming red hair that blows beautifully in the wind in her videos is contained in a bun, strands of it falling down around her face. Unlike Aislynn, whose outfit suggests a little more sex and club, Stacia wears a tight pair of jeans tucked into some worn cowboy boots. Her simple tank top doesn’t match the typical shine and sparkle her photos show. And she wears a navy blue suit jacket, cropped and tailored for her figure.

All of us guys stand up in unison when she walks in. The noise of commotion overtakes the room as she greets the executives and hugs Price. She walks around the table in our direction, her smile a bright beacon.

“Please excuse my tardiness. Had to set some things straight with the boys upstairs.” She points her fingers toward the upper floors of executives further up the food chain. “Oh my God, I am so happy to meet you guys. I’m Stacia.” She shakes each of our hands, waiting for us to give our names and not focusing on any one of us in particular. “You guys are one talented band. And I love your name almost as much as I love your sound. You rocked the Showcase.”

Not one of us can form a full sentence. Different versions of thanks and admiration burst out of all of our mouths. In less than a minute, we’ve turned into sick little fanboys, all propriety of business gone.

She gushes some more about our performance and works her way back to the other end of the table. Aislynn misses it when Stacia stands behind her chair. When the room grows quiet with awkward silence, Aislynn looks up from her phone. Stacia gives her a smile dripping with too much sugar. With a small frown, Aislynn stands up. The two young women with Stacia sit down next to her, forcing Aislynn to move to the other side of the table.

Amusement dances in Price’s eyes, as if he wouldn’t expect anything else from his superstar. “Stacia asked to be a part of this meeting, in case you were wondering.”

“Yes, I’m extremely interested in the next steps for you guys.” She crosses her hands in front of her on the table.

Aislynn perks up. “We were just discussing how Hunter and his band should record some selected songs that will fit the right image to launch them.”

Stacia nods. The euphoria of meeting her weakens. If a megastar like her agrees, then we have no voice in the matter.

“If we can perfect Hunter’s style, then he’ll be the perfect front man,” continues Aislynn. “The responses online have been astronomical so far.”

“Because online popularity and perception are always on point.” Sarcasm drips from Stacia’s response. “The internet is full of truths.” She holds her eyes on Aislynn, daring her to contradict her statements.

“Look, I understand that you’ve had some difficulties—” begins Aislynn.

“Price, can I have the room for a moment?” Stacia’s eyes fix on the feisty A&R rep for a moment. We all stand up, but she smiles down at us like a lion toying with its prey. “You boys stay.”