I was tempted to stay in bed all day, and see how many ways I could make Paige scream my name. Unfortunately, she had to go to work, and she had far more willpower than I did. We left the apartment together but went in opposite directions when we reached the street.

The first thing I needed to do was get my new song written down before I forgot it. Besides, I figured I had enough time to do that before I went to see Chester. He wouldn’t be up before the afternoon meeting we had scheduled anyway. I didn’t see the point of waking him up, discussing things, and then having to re-explain them later.

I might as well get some work done while I waited.

As I settled into the small studio I’d set up at my place, I felt a fragment of fear grow. What if last night had been a fluke? I’d told Paige that she was my muse, and I’d meant it, but what if, despite the inspiration I’d experienced, I couldn’t do it? What if it’d been too long? What if I’d already exhausted any talent I had?

I gave myself a shake, both mental and physical. I couldn’t think like that. I wouldn’t think like that. I’d written one song already, and even though some parts were rough, I knew it was good. And I had more in me. Nothing had solidified yet, but I could feel pieces of them in my head, and my intuition told me that they were better than anything I’d written before.

I went to work.

If I hadn’t set the alarm on my phone, I probably would have worked right through my meeting. I’d completely lost myself in the process. Writing down notes, trying out different instruments, tweaking words until I found the exact right ones.

I would’ve preferred to keep going, but the things I had planned for today were important, and I’d accomplished a lot in the time I’d spent.

I made sure everything was saved, and then headed out, making a couple necessary calls. I lived close enough to the restaurant where we were scheduled to meet that it only took about twenty minutes to get there, but I was still ready to get things over and done with by the time we arrived.

“Mr. Union.” The host was all smiles as he greeted me. “It’s good to see you again.”

I made small talk as best I could, not wanting to be rude to someone who’d only ever been nice to me, but I was still relieved when I reached the private room we used for our dinner meetings. When I stepped inside, three men were already there.

Chester had put on a wrinkled suit that looked at least five years out of fashion and was the ugliest shade of brown I’d ever seen. Not for the first time, I wondered what he spent his money on, because he sure as hell didn’t use it to update his wardrobe. Then again, after seeing all the shit he’d had out for Mitzi, maybe it wasn’t such a mystery after all.

On the opposite side of the table sat Roderick Leery and Trevor West, the first the VP of Solis Records, and the second his personal assistant. Both were smartly dressed, though Trevor’s suit wasn’t quite as expensive as Roderick’s. I’d been working with these guys for years and respected them both, but we didn’t have what I would’ve called a personal relationship. Still, I hoped they’d be on my side today.

I didn’t bother with any of the usual niceties. “Chester’s been supplying drugs for my ex-girlfriend, Mitzi, and probably giving the same stuff to roadies, other musicians, and who the hell knows else, although an investigation is beginning to uncover the depth of his deceit.”

All three men stared at me for a moment, and then Chester laughed, a big, booming sound. A sound that I now recognized as fake.

“Come on, Reb, you know me. I don’t mess with that shit.” He glanced at the other men. “Sorry. That stuff.”

I didn’t waste my time arguing. I wasn’t here for that. I was here to lay everything out on the table and get my life back on track. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and retrieved the video message I’d been sent a few minutes ago.

“Mitzi’s on her way to rehab,” I said and watched Chester begin to sweat, his face turning a deep, mottled red. “Courtesy of a deal made with the NYPD.”

I held out my phone and let everyone watch as Mitzi sat down with a detective. I waited until she got a minute or so into her explanation of what she and Chester had done to me, then paused the video.

“I can send it to you if you’d like to see the rest, but I think we’ve run out of time to watch it just now.” I glanced toward the door as I heard arguing coming from the main part of the restaurant. “And, by the way, Chester, if you haven’t figured it out already, you’re fired.”

The door opened, and a pair of cops came through, followed by the detective Mitzi had been making her statement to. He went straight for Chester, already rattling off charges and Miranda rights.

I waited until the asshole had been escorted out before speaking again, mostly because his cursing and threats drowned out everything else. Roderick and Trevor hadn’t said a word during the entire thing, and I got the impression that they were waiting for me to explain.

I didn’t make them wait for long. “I didn’t know what he was doing, but I should have. The past few months, I’ve been…out of it, to say the least. That’s done. I’m ready to get back to work.”

“That’s good to know,” Roderick said. He leaned forward, his expression shrewd. “Do you want to wait until you have a new manager to discuss things?”

I shook my head. “I’ll probably hire someone to handle the manager stuff, but I think we’ve been working together long enough to talk business ourselves.”

I waited until he nodded and gestured at the chair across from him. I sat down, some of my tension easing. Getting Chester to answer for his crimes was only the first part of what I needed to do, and I’d been confident of how things would play out. In fact, I considered it fortunate that I hadn’t gotten punched before the cops had come in. This next bit, however, I was less certain about.

“I’ve been writing again,” I said. “And it’s good…but not the same as anything I’ve done before. Similar to my first album, but different enough that some people aren’t going to like it.”

Roderick nodded slowly. “Your deadlines are coming up fast. Will you be able to meet them?”

I considered the question before answering, “I think so, but only with these new songs. I don’t know if I could get you the sort of stuff I did before.”

Roderick looked over at his assistant who’d been sitting quietly, taking notes. “What do you think?”

“I think, after the last few months, people will respond better to something new than they would to the same thing,” Trevor answered with a half-smile. “After the community service you’ve been doing, they’ll think of it as part of your new image.”

That was closer to the truth than he realized. Paige was responsible for both my image and my music, though I knew she’d say she was just showing people who I really was, that I’d always had the music in me.

And the sooner I finished here, the sooner I could make sure she knew how I felt about her.