They’d video chatted before doing a media interview yesterday and everyone had asked what he had been up to. It was rare that those guys didn’t keep in touch. Edge of Black was more like brothers from what I had seen traveling on tour with my dad. I wasn’t sure why Asher was worried about how they would react, but he was going to hurt them more by keeping the secret.
In his tirade a week ago, he had worried that they would replace him in the band, but I couldn’t fathom them doing so. Asher Blake was Edge of Black. They were a team, sure, but he was the voice and the face. Asher was the person everyone recognized. He was also their main songwriter. As a fan, I could clearly pick out the songs that he had written as opposed to those that had been lent or demoed to them for use.
“My hand will be fine. I can use my laptop for most of it.”
“Alright. That sounds nice, though. Do you think I could listen?”
I wasn’t sure what the protocol was when an award-winning songwriter was in his zone. For me, when I was editing pictures, I didn’t usually like anyone around, but there were exceptions. One being Katy because the woman really hated being alone. And the other was Asher. He watched me edit the photos I’d taken of him the other day and was fascinated at the process. It was actually nice to have someone compliment my work. At my job, I was used to everyone critiquing everything.
“I’d love that, actually. You have a good ear.”
“How do you know that?” I asked, propping my head up in my hand, my elbow bent and resting on the bed. The movement caused the sheets to fall and expose my breasts. Asher’s eyes immediately darted down and heated.
“Because Edge of Black is your favorite band and your dad is a musical genius.”
“I could be tone deaf.”
“You could, but you’re not.” He didn’t elaborate and I worried that maybe he was just being nice. I didn’t tend to sing except when I was baking.
“I have two hours before my call,” I said as I glanced at the clock hanging on the far wall. “What shall we do to pass the time?” My hand skimmed down to his hips, my fingers tracing his deep V while I asked.
With urgency, I was flipped onto my back and my wrists pinned against the bed. “I know just what to do to kill the time,” Asher replied with a husky voice, just as he drove his cock deep into my waiting, slick pussy.
“Fuck, yes,” he growled and we spent the next hour working up a different kind of hunger.
I was rinsing off the plates from the breakfast, poached eggs and English muffins that were freaking delicious, when my cell phone rang. I’d been anticipating the call, but it still caused my heart to jump.
“You got this, babe,” Asher said as he handed me the device, kissed my cheek, and stepped out of the kitchen.
I gave myself a two-second pep talk reassuring myself that I deserved better than the way they had treated me.
“Hello, this is Addison Jackson.”
“Mrs. Jackson, this is Dan Armstrong’s assistant. Let me put you through. Hold, please.”
Put me through? You were the one to call me.
“Dan,” the cocky voice said on the other end as if I had been the one to reach out.
“Dan, this is Addison. You requested a call with me. I’m afraid that I don’t have a lot of time available. What can I do for you?”
“We got your ridiculous C and D letter. What do you think you’re doing? We have every right to publish those images.”
“You do, of course, just not with my name listed as the photographer. I will not have my reputation and trust tarnished because you were after a story, Mr. Armstrong. I was there to document their humanitarian efforts and I did my job. You can do what you will with that assignment. But I will not have my name attached to a scandal.”
“You’re being silly, little girl.”
I had tried to be respectful and understanding on the call, but my resolve snapped the second he called me by that childish endearment.
“I’m afraid not, Mr. Armstrong,” I said with a forceful tone. I meant business now and he was going to listen come hell or high water. “If you decide to ignore my cease and desist and publish those images with my name linked to them in any fashion, I will sue you personally and the magazine for everything. My lawyer is ready and willing to go to bat for me. How about yours?
“Now, while I have you available. I would also like to make you aware that I am giving my notice as of today. I will not be returning to the magazine and you can do what you want with my office and the items inside. There is not a chance in Hell I would step foot in that building again. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Armstrong?”
It wasn’t often the man was rendered speechless, but a full minute passed before he spoke up.
“Yes. Mrs. Jackson. I will pass along your C and D and give your regards to human resources. They will be reaching out for an exit survey, I’m sure.”
I didn’t bother responding but ended the call. As I placed my phone on the kitchen counter, I noticed that my hands were shaking.