“Here’s what’s going to happen,” I say, and bring my hand up to silence him when he tries to open his mouth. “This is going to stop. You are going to let Karl work on his art and pitch music to Bren. You are going to give him the space to concentrate and work. The parties, it’s all done. It’s not what he wants.”
“There’s an image he agreed to uphold when he signed on to the band.”
“You can tell the press whatever you want, but you will lay off histime. Do you hear me?”
“Or what?” Roger asks with defiance. “You think you’re going to last?”
That stung, but I don’t let him see it, and I definitely don’t falter when I answer him. “Or I will turn into your worst nightmare. I’m Karl’s girlfriend for as long as he wants me around. I moved in with him. Has he ever moved in with anyone before?” I raise a brow at him. Suddenly, I’m grateful Karl wanted this fake relationship to look as serious as it does. “Whose side do you think he’d take if he had to choose?”
Roger takes a step back to eye me up and down like he’s considering me in a new light. “You’re pretty smart, aren’t you?” His mouth upturns into a half-smile, and for some reason, I’m no longer as angry as I’d been a second ago. This man is trouble. He could disarm you if you let him.
“I care about Karl. He isn’t happy with how things are,” I say.
Roger lets out a long breath. “Fine. We’ll try things your way for a while, but if the band’s popularity dips and sales drop, we will have to reassess his public image.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“Welcome toIndustrial November,” he says as he turns to leave.
Roger is waiting for the elevator to return when Sandy rushes to join him, and they leave together.
Karl is looking at me funny, and he sticks his fists in his pockets. “I’m not his puppet,” he says when we’re alone.
My jaw goes slack. “You heard that?”
The clicking of nails on the marble floors announces Pixel as she approaches me eagerly. She sniffs my feet. They must have locked her in a room while the party took place. Another strike against Roger Kemp.
Karl nods. “Some of it. I agreed at the start . . . I just assumed the band knew, but it’s become clear lately Roger kept this from them. I actually half-think he is trying to save their feelings.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I came on, Roger was worried that as the guys got older, interest in them would drop. That’s why he wanted someone younger. He pitched me as new blood. They’re all slowing down in terms of their personal lives, and the parties don’t hold the same allure to them that they once did.”
“What does this have to do with their feelings?”
“I think Roger didn’t want to make them feel old.”
I laugh. “I’m sorry. They’re millionaire, handsome, rock gods. I don’t think aging will bother them.” I pause. “Still. I’m sorry for insinuating you’re his puppet.”
Karl takes several steps forward and stops an inch away from me. “Thank you,” he says, his eyes locked on mine.
“For what?”
“Standing up for me. Tonight, you’ve done two things no one has done for me in a long time.” His voice cracks when he says that, and I think he might actually cry. “No one’s ever...defended me so passionately,” he admits.
Something moves inside my chest. I suddenly realize I know nothing about Karl, his background, his upbringing. Everything has been all about me. How can I be so selfish? Is he alone in this world like me? I want to ask him, but now doesn’t seem like the time, when he was just ready to murder Roger on the spot.
He retrieves his hand from his pocket and caresses my cheek sweetly, but I pull away. “What are you doing?” I ask and step away from his touch.
His brows furrow at my retreat from his physical space. “I was thinking about our kiss.”
I laugh nervously. “Right. Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be sorry—”
“The two guys at the table next to us recognized you. They were trying to take photos with their phones without us noticing.”
“What? I didn’t see anything.”