“It’s my decision,” I say for the fourth time, and for the fourth time, Cody brushes my words aside with a wave of his hand.

“Don’t you think we should talk about this?”

“Like we’ve been talking about it for the last hour? I’m never singing that awful song again.”

“They loved it!”

A dry laugh crosses my lips. “They hated it!”

Cody stops and looks at me. “As your manager, I’m telling you that you’re making a mistake.”

“Too bad. The song is horrible. But I’d be happy to sing something else that I get to write.”

“That’s just not going to happen,” he says matter-of-factly.

“And that’s what I don’t understand. Why?”

Cody walks to the mini fridge under my TV. “Because that’s not the way Sunny Records rolls.”

“Then then maybe Sunny Records isn’t for me.”

His hand pauses on its way to a Stella. “You don’t mean that.”

“Maybe I do. I don’t like how I’m being pushed around. I haven’t even signed with them and they’re already dictating my every move. They won’t let me write my own stuff until I’ve done it their way first, and even then, how sure am I that they’ll loosen the reins?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am. I mean, is all this stress worth it?”

He snorts in disbelief. “Of course it is.”

“But maybe it’s not.” I get up and start to pace. “What do I get out of this deal that I don’t already have?”

“A fuckton of money!” Cody bellows.

My world shifts slightly in the silence that follows. Cody clamps his mouth shut and looks away. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

I glare at him. “I’d say. What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing. I just hate to see you walk away from such a great opportunity.”

I narrow my eyes. “What do you really mean?”

“What I said,” he answers quickly. “Why, don’t you believe me?”

My world shifts a little further. I clear my throat and ask the first question that pops into my head. “Cody, do you care what I think?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“One that I never asked myself until now.”

Cody grows agitated. “Well, the answer’s yes.”

Uncertainty slashes through me, stronger now than ever before. “I don’t know. I mean, do you really listen to me? My opinions?”

A look of alarm flashes across his light brown eyes. He steps toward me and gently takes me by the shoulders. “Look, how about I try to work some deal with Sunny—see if I can get them to consider letting you write the lyrics.”

“And the beat,” I add. Skepticism twists Cody’s face. “I’m done playing their game. I feel like a puppet, and as of right now, I’m cutting the goddamn strings.”

“Whoa now,” Cody begins.

“Don’t,” I say with renewed strength. “I’m not backing down from this one.”

His eyes narrow as he studies me. Nothing prepares me for what comes next.

“You’re being a bitch, Autumn.”

I stop breathing. Everything slows as I stare at the man in front of me. He looks relaxed, in control, like he didn’t just rip out my heart and nail it to the wall.

Asshole.

My voice is flat and humorless when I find it. “Anything else?”

All I get’s a scowl.

“Great.” In a daze, I snatch up my purse and sling it over my head. My steps are unsteady as I cross the room to the door. “Then you’re fired.”

“What?” he asks through clenched teeth. “You’re joking! I’ve given you everything you wanted!”

“And some that I didn’t want,” I mutter before raising my voice. “You have forty-eight hours to put your things in order. I’m sure you can see yourself out.”

Cody looks like he’s been hit by a bus. “Who…who’s going to run your tour?”

I shrug. “Zoe.”

He scoffs. “That’s career suicide! She doesn’t know a single thing about the business.”

“She’s a quick learner, and most importantly, she listens to me.”

Cody gives a humorless laugh.

“Good luck,” he sneers.

I stop in the doorway and turn. “Honestly, Cody? I’d save all the luck for yourself. Something tells me you’re going to need it.”

The moment I’ve slammed the door between us, I reach into my purse and pull out my phone.

Zoe’s reply comes instantly. She’s already slaying it.

As I step into the elevator, I remind myself to get her a “Best Assistant/Interim Manager Ever” mug for Christmas. I’ll have one made if they don’t exist.

My phone dings as the elevator doors glide open.

I stifle a laugh as I cross the well-lit lobby of the Mayflower Hotel. She’s a natural.

I tap my phone and pull up my driver’s info. The only person I want to see right now is my best friend. At least, I think we’re still friends. I’m not really sure these days (thank you very much, hormones).

I shake my head as my boots click against the polished marble floor. I am going to lose my mind if I try to tackle the “what are we now?” question that’s been running around my head for the last few days. Everything changed when Bryce walked back into my life, and I’ve been running from my feelings ever since.

Well, maybe it’s time to stop.

I push through the revolving door and step onto the bustling D.C. sidewalk just as my driver picks up. “Hey, Gary, it’s me. You up for a trip to Georgetown?”

Because history needs to be rewritten.