“Does it really matter? It could have been anyone with access to those tapes. Who knows.”
“It feels like the worst thing that could have happened,” I whisper.
“No.” Grip leaves a kiss in my hair. “The worst thing would be if you decided not to be with me. If you regretted us. That’s my worst-case scenario. Not sales or any of that other shit.”
“But you’ve worked so hard. I just hate being the reason it’s diminished in any way.”
“Listen to me.” His hand splays across my hip and he brings me so close I feel his heart thumping into my ribcage. “Remember the release party? We were celebrating the album going number one?”
“Of course I remember.” I cup his face and lay my head against his chin. “I was so proud of you. We all were.”
“Yeah, well I was miserable.”
I pull back to peer into his face.
“I mean, yeah. I was happy, excited for the album, but you know what my mind kept going back to?”
“What?” My voice is hushed, my heart waiting.
“Our first kiss.” A smile crooks the corner of his full lips. “That night at the carnival, no one knew who I was. My bank account was sad. Not one of my dreams had come true yet, but I had you. That night I had you, and it was the best night of my life. And the night of the party, when I thought you might marry Parker, that we might not ever get back to what we started on that Ferris wheel, I could barely focus on the songs. That let me know what is the most important thing to me, and it ain’t sales.”
I don’t know what to say. I thought I would. I’m rarely speechless, but him saying these things and hearing that I’m the most important thing in a life like his, when I haven’t been anyone’s most important thing ever before, something inside of me that has always been searching, settles. Something that has always been circling, lands.
“You are just making things worse for yourself,” I finally whisper into his neck.
“How so?” He feathers kisses around my hairline, down my neck.
“You’ll never get rid of me now.”
“Good. That was the goal.” He tips my face forward and kisses me lightly. “Now that we have that settled, let’s go tell Rhyson how you’re gonna make this all better. I know you have a plan.”
Now that I’ve had a second. Now that the man I love has settled any lingering doubts . . .
“I might have a few ideas.”
Chapter 30
BRISTOL
“YOU’LL OWE ME big time for this, Bristol.” Ezra Cohen stares over his thick-rimmed glasses, the New York skyline sprawled behind him. “I’m also not entirely sure this is the best way to handle such a . . . shall we say, delicate matter.”
“Will and Qwest haven’t left me much choice. I need to staunch the bleeding on this, and they won’t take my calls.” I hesitate before giving him my most grateful smile. “Thank you so much for your help.”
“If I didn’t love you so much, kid, there’s no way I’d even entertain a scheme like this.” Ezra points a bony finger at me. “But in all my years knowing you, you’re right ninety-nine percent of the time. This better not be that one percent.”
He’s right. This could backfire badly. If I miscalculate, I’ll only make things worse. Before I have time to reconsider, Ezra’s assistant opens his office door, showing in Qwest and Will. Qwest pulls up short as soon as she sees me, tilting her sunglasses down to look at me disdainfully over the cat eye frames.
Will comes in right behind her, shock flickering across his face when our eyes catch. “Bristol, what the hell are you doing here?”
“This bitch got some nerve.” Qwest adjusts the Louis Vuitton bag on her shoulder. “I’m outta here.”
“No, you’re not.” Ezra stands to his full five foot seven. His towering authority has nothing to do with his physical stature, and everything to do with the reputation he’s carved out for himself and the business he’s built. “You’ve been very publicly critical of the man who has the number one album in the country. And the two of you have the number one single in the country. That feud is bad for business, and I want it put down.”
“I’m sorry to handle things this way,” I interject. “But you wouldn’t return Grip’s calls, Qwest, and Will, you haven’t returned mine.”
“That’s ‘cause I got nothing to say to cheating sellouts or their skinny white bitches.” Qwest’s voice rings hard and harsh in the understated luxury of Ezra’s office, but I see the hurt behind her eyes. Grip isn’t an easy man to lose.
“He didn’t cheat, Qwest,” I say softly. “We need to clear the air.