Scarlett smoothed the skirt of her flouncy yellow polka dot sundress. Not exactly the appropriate attire to wear to a corporate meeting with the executives at Storm Side Records, but Luanne hadn’t packed her business casual clothes, so it was the sundress or nothing. For his part, Gavin wore a pair of gray slacks, a black t-shirt, and a black blazer. His motorcycle boots had been replaced by a pair of very expensive loafers. If scruffy-rock-star Gavin was delicious, then polished-and-shined Gavin was downright delectable.

She continued to replay their earlier conversation over in her mind. He’d been left alone for days when he was five. Pity, compassion, empathy, understanding all blended with pride that he’d made something of his life. No wonder she loved him.

The familiar riot of butterflies beating in her stomach when she thought of him made a synchronized loop-de-loop. This had disaster written all over it, and she needed to figure out a way to distance herself from those emotions. It might be a battle she couldn’t win.

She made eye contact in the mirrored elevator doors. “Are you nervous?”

“No, why?”

She pointed to his hand beating out a rhythm on his leg.

He looked at it and chuckled. “I didn’t even know I was doing it. I’m fine, just excited.”

“Why do you think they wanted me to come too?” She blew a loose curl from her eye.

“I have no idea.” He reached for her hand. “You look beautiful. At least they won’t be able to fault me for my taste in women.”

The blush started at her toes and colored her whole body, while contentment slid up her arm from his calloused thumb rubbing little circles on the top of her hand. “Thank you.” Oh, sweet baby Jesus, she was a goner.

The shy smile he gave her was just about the last straw. The urge to hit the emergency button and jump his bones was stronger than a California earthquake. But that would be inappropriate, and she knew this meeting was meant to show they both could behave themselves.

The elevator door opened to the waiting room of the office, and they stepped out. The area was…to call it posh would be a gross understatement. It was gorgeous. Thick gray carpet cushioned every step. Silver gilded walls reflected indirect lighting coming from a huge crystal chandelier hung in the middle of the room, over a plush round settee. The whole area screamed you do not deserve to be here.

She was raised in the country, but she wasn’t a bumpkin. She’d been away to school, gone on vacations, but had never seen anything as opulent as the waiting area of Storm Side Records.

A beautiful Asian woman sat at an antique white desk in the corner of the room. Her almond eyes showed no recognition, nor anticipation of their arrival. She almost looked like a mannequin, so when she spoke it spooked Scarlett a little. “Mr. Bain, Mr. Petty and Mr. Weinberg will see you in a moment. Have a seat. May I get you anything?” she said, as flat as one of Honey’s pancakes.

“No, thanks.” Gavin pulled them to a pair of black-and-silver wingback chairs.

“Hey. I could use some water. My throat’s really dry.”

His phone buzzed, and he pulled it from his pocket and checked the screen. “We’ll get you a bottle of water when we get back there.” His fingers flew across the screen, then he put his phone away. “Jack just pulled into the parking garage. He’ll be up in a minute.”

“Oh, joy.”

“Your throat’s not too dry to drip sarcasm there, Red.”

She crossed her arms. “He’s just not one of my favorite people. In fact, I know you don’t suffer fools, so I can’t understand why you’ve hitched your wagon to that idiot.”

“First, he’s no fool. And second, Jack’s about the only person in this town I trust. He worked for the second agency we were with.” He played with the gold band on his left hand. She fingered her own band. “We didn’t deal with Jack then. He was just starting out, so he was more a glorified gopher than anything else. Anyway, after we’d been with the agency for a couple of years, Jack came to us and told us our manager was working a deal that would be bad for us and that he was dealing under the table. Because of the heads up, we got out of our contract and went somewhere else. Jack lost his job to do the right thing. He has integrity. And in this business, you can count on one hand the number of people who can spell integrity, let alone have it.”

“So, you all left, and he started representing Wolfe’s Bain?”

“Hell, no.” He laughed. “He was a little too green for our taste. But he did help us find an agency that would take care of us. Jack went to work for another group and learned the business, so when I decided to come back, he was the only person I called. He’d just gone out on his own, the timing was right.”

“Wow. I can’t believe he went out on a limb like that for you guys.” Wait until she told Luanne that Jack was one of the good guys. She’d never believe it.

He cracked his knuckles one at a time. “Jack’s kind of a vigilante when it comes to his clients. He says what he means and does what he says. You know he’s got your back.”

“So he’s like the Superman of agents?”

He leaned forward in the chair, rested his elbows on his knees, and clasped his hands. “Pretty much.”

“Well, if it isn’t the happy couple.” Jack sauntered into the room.

“You’re right, he’s a real prince among men,” she said from the corner of her mouth.

“Nah, you’re right. He’s a dick,” Gavin whispered.

“Hey, that’s Mr. Dick to you, sunshine.” Jack shook Gavin’s hand.

He bent and kissed Scarlett’s cheek. “You’re as lovely as ever, Mrs. Bain.”

“Thank you, Jack.”

“Mr. Petty and Mr. Weinberg will see you now.” The receptionist opened the door to the executive office and ushered them into the inner sanctum.

Scarlett’s heart started that jitterbug thing it had been doing ever since she’d met Gavin. She smoothed her hair, straightened her dress, and ran her finger across her teeth to make sure she didn’t have lipstick on them.

She had no idea what to expect, but the two men sitting in the tricked-out office were not it. One wore buckskin pants, complete with laces down the side, and a dress shirt with turquoise buttons on the front and at the wrist. His straight silver hair was parted in the middle and hung to his waist. He introduced himself as Maury Weinberg. Mr. Wynn Petty, by comparison, was dressed more conservatively, as in, his severe black suit and shirt were topped off with a priest collar…an honest-to-goodness priest collar. He was not a priest. There were photos all over the room of him and his lovely wife and equally lovely daughters. He also sported a man bun.

They all took their seats, and Scarlett finally got her water.

Maury leaned back in his chair and gave her an appraising look. “So, young lady, are you aware you’re a viral sensation?”

* * *

Gavin held his breath. There was a beat of silence that seemed to Gavin to go on forever. Then the two record execs fist bumped and laughed uproariously.

“You just saved us twenty-thousand dollars in promotional money for Gavin’s next album,” Wynn said.

Beside him, Scarlett stiffened, but somehow found the nerve to say, “Whatever I can do to help.”

Maury snickered like a little girl. “Oh, Gavin, you’ve got yourself a live one there.”

Jack put his hand on Gavin’s shoulder. “I’m sure you gentlemen remember how it was when you were first in love.” He made a what can you do gesture.

Wynn steepled his fingers. “Indeed, indeed. What say we get down to business? I’m sure these newlyweds have better things to do today.”

Gavin breathed a sigh of relief. Finally. This was it. This would make everything right. Now he could be the kind of role model a kid could look up to.

Maury flipped his hair from his shoulder and opened a binder. “Gavin, Storm Side would love to have you as one of our artists. I’ll admit, we were a little concerned by your behavior over the last few days, but after seeing how you looked at your wife in that video, it’s obvious you’re quite smitten with sweet Scarlett.”

Gavin only nodded. What the hell did Maury mean? He could tell I was smitten? He was in lust for sure, but Gavin didn’t believe in love. So that would never happen.

“Here is our proposal.” Maury slid the contract across the table.

He and Jack skimmed it.

Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe. “Um…somebody want to explain what this is?” He stabbed his finger to the first paragraph of the contract.

Maury leaned back in his chair and played with the turquoise buttons on his shirt. “We understand that your previous record deal expired before Wolfe’s Bain finished recording their last album. After Johnny’s death, Gavin, you didn’t release that album. We think a perfect way to introduce you to the public as a solo artist is by releasing that record. You sing lead on all of the songs, and we will use CGI to superimpose Johnny into the shot for the music videos and tours.

Both men’s snake-oil-salesman smiles struck a match to his anger. He wanted to throw something. Instead, he sat, still as a statue.

Jack was the first to find his voice. “Gentlemen, I’m sure you can understand that Johnny Wolfe’s death was and is especially hard on Gavin. I don’t think this is the direction he wants to pursue.”

Gavin could feel Jack’s eyes on him as he stared at the contract. “Have you listened to any of the new songs I sent in the last two days?” He was shocked words could escape his constricted throat.

“We have,” Wynn said enthusiastically. “And, believe me, we will use them on the next record, but for the first album this is the direction we would like to go.”

“Yes,” Maury added. “Your new songs are fantastic, but the public, your fans, expect a certain angst and anger from you, and that’s what the Wolfe’s Bain album delivers.”

“I…um…I’m not sure.” Gavin cleared his throat. He hoped to hell he wasn’t going to cry. “I don’t think I can do that. Wolfe’s Bain was Johnny and me, from the start. It was our dream together, and it was awesome, but now he’s gone and that time of my life is over. It wouldn’t be honoring to him to stick his image on a screen and then turn a profit because we’d done that. I think if you gave the new songs a real chance—”

“I’m afraid the deal on the table, Gavin, is the one where we release the Wolfe’s Bain album and promote it.” Wynn adjusted his priest collar. “You understand that we are taking a big risk on you, and the WB album is our collateral. It will sell. It’s some of your best work to date.”

Gavin’s mind raced. There had to be a way to salvage this. “How about we use a few of the better cuts from the album and add the new songs in with the old? Also, I don’t want to use John’s image. That’s just creepy.”

“No.” Maury’s genial demeanor dropped off his face quicker than Gavin could blink.

He couldn’t believe this. The thing he needed the most was within his grasp, yet he couldn’t grab hold of it. “Can I have a couple of days to think about it?”

Wynn rested his clasped hands on the desktop. “I’m afraid not. It’s now or never.”

“Stop.” Scarlett smacked her hand on the desk. “Can’t you see how painful this is for him?” She gestured to Gavin. “He doesn’t want to do this. I’ve heard his new songs, and they’re amazing. Better than anything he’s ever put out. You two vultures, with your ridiculous costumes and make-believe superiority, can take this deal and shove it.”

The tension in the room was strung tight as one of his guitar strings. Gavin couldn’t believe it. Not even Jack had come to his defense, only the spitfire he’d married.

Wynn was the first to recover. “Young lady, you’re jumping into a situation you know nothing about. I suggest you sit quietly and let us do the heavy lifting.”

Gavin stood up. The fuse these two idiots lit the minute they gave him their proposal detonated with an explosion of rage. “Actually, she’s right. You can take this deal and shove it up your asses.” When he got in Wynn’s face, the man’s eyes widened, and his face turned as white as that asinine collar he wore. “And if you ever speak to my wife like that again, you’ll need a priest.” He extended his hand to Scarlett. “Come on babe, let’s hit the beach.”