Locating the tightest cluster of sycophants, I know that Simone is the center of their excitement. With a casual, disinterested expression I position myself where she can see me when she eventually comes up for air and looks over. Acting like I don’t care if or when that happens, I lazily unlock the screen on my cell phone.

It’s an act.

The only thing on my mind is that voice crooning in my ear with those long legs of hers wrapped around my hips later on tonight. But I’m not going to give that desire away. I play it cool. With women like Simone, the game is crucial.

Here’s the thing about me. I want more than what she and I have. I do. I want the sometimes seemingly unattainable dream everyone wants, and I want it way more than any of my brothers ever have. Some of them have gotten it already, by pure lucky breaks, in my opinion, the fuckers.

The loyal and amazing wife, great kids, comfortable home, fulfilling music career, my mom, dad and brothers and their family — that’s what I want. I’ve got all but the first two. Do I believe Simone could be by my side for good? Nah, because like most stars — rising or already shining — she’s pretty fucking selfish and extremely egotistical…but she sure is pretty to look at while I search.

And her voice! Holy fuck. For a man who bleeds music, listening to a woman with that kind of gift is like a drug. Even when she’s just talking it’s like heroin. That’s the part of her I’m addicted to. It makes me forget the times in between the singing where I find myself strumming my fingers under the sneaking reality that it won’t last.

But I’ll work this thing as long as I can because I’m a stubborn bastard in a lot of ways. It’s how I get shit done. I stick to it. And that voice…oh man.

I’m fake-scrolling through artists on SoundCloud when I hear, “You’re so fucking obvious, you know that, Jason?”

Tensing, I mutter to the floor, “Shit,” and shove the phone into my suit pocket, readying for battle. She’s Simone’s personal assistant and best friend, the bane of my existence for four months now. The two come as a package deal that I wish I could return half of.

“Good. Put it away,” she laughs. “You weren’t really looking at it anyway.”

Turning my head I lock onto the almond-colored eyes of my redheaded nemesis, and instantly match her sneer. Then, to throw the five-foot-two-inch shrimp off her game, I travel my purposeful gaze all the way down her body, taking my sweet time.

Of course the bitch is dressed as an angel.

But her outfit isn’t slutty by any standards. 

She’s in white jeans, heels, and a silky white blouse that’s not low-cut. Short wings are pinned to her back, and there are white daisies gently placed on her curly, auburn hair for her halo.

If she wasn’t such a cunt I’d find her adorable. But she is a cunt. And she’s got nothing on Simone.

“Ironic isn’t a costume,” I growl before bending in close to her smug face. “Oh, hey Sarah, did your rock let you climb out to play?”

At my unexpected advance she recoils. Only by reflex, not by choice. She wouldn’t want me to think I’ve gotten the upper hand. She’d much rather get in my face and fight me like a man like she’s doing now. “Are you going to kiss me?!”

“Nobody could pay me enough.”

A fresh sneer twists her soft pink lips into sharp points. “I wasn’t saying I wanted you to, Jason. Don’t get your fucking hopes up.”

Smirking, I lean deeper in. “Sarah, my only hope is that after this album is finished I never have to see you again.”

Her eyes sharpen with glee. “When I go, your lover goes with me. Bet you didn’t think of that.”

Fuck. She’s right. I’ve been basking in the warmth of Simone’s charms nearly 24/7 with work and play, and that joy is about to vanish from Atlanta.

My drug lives in Detroit.

Seeing my expression flicker, Sarah kicks me when I’m down. “Oh, are you going to cry?”

Of course I’m not going to fucking cry, but I do have to think of something fast to keep my fix from leaving before I’m ready.

“Hate to break it to you, she-bitch, but it’s not over yet. We need to remix an alternate single of Just For Me. You’re welcome to fly back to your cave while we work.”

“Work? Is that what you call sex with you? I’d call it torture.”

“Sarah, if you were ever lucky enough to fuck me, you wouldn’t be able to walk for a month. And that annoying little bark you have would be a whimper. For dayyyyyyyys.”

Crossing her arms, her breasts hike up and show their first sign of cleavage. I glance down, momentarily distracted. “I’m not even going to reply to such ridiculousness, you cocky towheaded dick on feet. This is the first I’ve heard about an alternate remix!”

“Everyone knows you can’t have just one version of a hit song, short-stack.”

On a glare meant to whither me, she snarls, “Don’t fucking call me that.”

“While you’re down there, why don’t you blow my big cock?”

Sarah reels her arm and tries to slap me.

I duck.

She misses.

Grabbing her wrist I snarl, “Try using a footstool next time.”

She bares her teeth like an animal. “I’m gonna tell Simone you should remix it by yourself.”

“Like she’d give up control.”

Knowing I’m right, Sarah snaps, “I’ll think of something, asshole!”

“And it’ll be mediocre.”

“Fucking dick!”

Leaning in really close I growl, “First, sex…and now you’re thinking about my dick?”

“I don’t have a microscope.”

“You’d need a telescope because it reaches to Venus.”

She blanches. “God, that was terrible!”

A grin flashes on me. “It really was.”

I’m about to release her wrist when a drunken male-angel nearly falls and in the process of righting himself, pushes her by accident. Our lips collide. An unexpected charge ignites in my bloodstream, and what should only have lasted a split second with both of us wiping our mouths afterward in disgust, keeps going on for four, maybe five seconds…with a little added pressure that didn’t need to be there.

The kiss isn’t long, mind you, and there’s no tongue, but count to five. That’s enough time to feel something happen that shouldn’t. Sometimes you kiss someone and there’s no feeling to it all. Other times it’s hot and sexy.

This kiss? It’s different. It woke up places I didn’t know were sleeping.

She pulls away first, eyes wide as she stares at me.

I’m just as alarmed.

No way that should have felt as good as it did.

Even worse, the next thing we hear is the honey-smooth voice of Simone demanding, “What the hell was that?” Sarah and I jump back a foot as Simone’s beautiful blue eyes flash between us. “What the fuck, Sarah?”

“Someone shoved me at him!”

Raking a hand through my hair, I mumble, “Didn’t mean to do that.”