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Caged Collection: Sixth Street Bands (Books 1-5) by Jayne Frost (116)

Chapter 15

Taryn

Cheers thundered outside the conference room door at Twin Souls. Sometime in the last hour, an impromptu game of NERF basketball had started in the fishbowl, the outer office where the junior managers and their staff had their desks.

From the chatter filtering through the door, it sounded like a heated match between Dylan and Beckett, and each of the boys had a cheering section that rivaled that of an NBA basketball team.

Rubbing my temple, I thumbed through the batch of signed contracts from my last trip while Tori sat at the other end of the table scowling at the speaker phone.

“That’s not going to bring him to the phone any quicker, Belle,” I said wearily. “And please try to hold onto your temper.”

She chuffed out a breath and I could almost see the smoke come out of her nose.

“Ms. Grayson.” Councilman Harlson’s voice blasted through the speaker. “Thanks for your patience. I was just looking through your file.”

Cutting through the pleasantries, Tori rushed to say, “Councilman, your office has been in possession of our check for three months. Twin Souls has acted in good faith, securing vendors for this event. Why was our permit denied?”

I gave Tori a small smile of encouragement, rewarding her for her professionalism.

“Well,” the councilmen drawled, “it seems there was a clerical error.”

Tori’s butt rose out of her chair, and I sighed, wondering how much ass I’d need to kiss if she cussed out the man in charge of the City Planning office.

“You rejected our permit due to a clerical error?” she growled, incredulous.

“Ms. Greyson—”

“Mrs. Greyson,” Tori snapped.

“Of course, Mrs. Greyson.” A long sigh. “The clerical error was not solely our fault. A Ms. Ayers from your office proffered a check for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and the bank rejected it.”

“What?” Tori screeched. “There’s got to be some mistake. Our business account has plenty of money to—”

“Oh, no,” the councilman chuckled, “it had nothing to do with the funds. According to your bank, Ms. Ayers is not on the corporate charter.”

Silence hung thick, and I stared down at my hands.

I’d never pushed Tori to make me a partner, and I never would. Twin Souls was her company, built on the legacy of her husband, her twin soul.

“Taryn Ayers has full authority to sign any check on behalf of this company,” Tori finally said. “Clearly this is an issue with your bank.”

“Yes, well, be that as it may, I don’t have any control over the bank the city uses,” the councilman said. “But since the funds have been verified, I’m happy to report that our office issued your permit today granting Twin Souls full use of Zilker Park for the Ron Grayson/Paige Dawson Memorial Endowment Concert.”

Tori sank into her seat, staring at the phone, her face growing paler by the second.

Sliding out from behind the desk, I made my way to her side. “It’s Rhenn Grayson,” I corrected the councilmen. “The Rhenn Grayson/Paige Dawson Memorial Endowment Concert.”

Tori blanched when the councilman offered another weak laugh. “Yes, I see … It’s right here. Rhenn Grayson.”

Bracing a hand on Tori’s shoulder, I said, “Thank you for taking the time to clear this up, councilman. We appreciate your help.”

I hurried to end the call before the old fool put his foot in his mouth again. Tori swiveled her chair and gazed out the window, but I knew that expression; she was somewhere else.

Resting my butt on the table, I said gently, “Have you ever seen Harlson?” No response, so I nudged her chair. “Huh?”

Tori shook her head, listless.

“The man is pushing seventy-five. Of course, he doesn’t know who Rhenn is. I’m sure the last musician he could name wore bell bottoms.”

A smile ghosted Tori’s lips. “I guess.”

I took my seat, and after a moment, Tori let out a staggered breath and then returned to sifting through files.

“We have to get this right,” she said quietly. And when I looked up, her watery gaze was locked on mine.

“We will, Belle. I promise.”

An hour later I stretched my legs. Though the ruckus in the other room had died down, it hadn’t diminished completely. As long as Dylan and Becks were here, unpaid interns and hourly employees, long off the clock, remained.

“Drink?” I asked, on my way to the break room.

Tori nodded, and when I returned with a Dr. Pepper for each of us, she lifted a confused gaze.

“What is this?”

My mouth went dry when she flipped the file around, revealing a photo of Dylan and Harper. They were at the studio, with Dylan’s chest barely grazing Harper’s back as he looked over her shoulder, studying an arrangement she had in her hand. All in all, it appeared innocent. Unless you’d seen what I had on that tape.

I cracked open the soda and then took a drink to peel my tongue off the roof of my mouth. “That’s Harper, um, Rush. The girl I scouted in Biloxi a few months back.”

Tori pulled out a memo and, glancing it over, her frown intensified.

“What is it?” I managed to croak.

“The label wants to know if they’re an item.” Tori’s gaze flicked to mine. “So they can use it to promote the albums.”

Joint, as in both albums.

“I’ll talk to Dylan,” I said, as casually as possible.

Tori was quiet for a long moment, then shoved the picture back into the file. “It’s probably nothing.”

Placing the folder in our “pass” pile, she moved on.

“We’re not passing on Rush,” I said, as I sank back into my chair.

“I don’t like her.” Tori scribbled notes without looking up, like the subject was closed.

“That doesn’t matter, Belle. Harper is talent, my domain.”

My only piece of the kingdom, and the one thing I’d insisted on from the start. I handled talent acquisition, period. And I’d hide behind that privilege now, except, I shouldn’t have to.

Irritated, Tori lifted her gaze. “The whole damn company is my domain, Taryn. Since I own it.”

Whether she meant to say it or not, it was out there. And rather than back down, I eased farther into my chair. “That’s not the way it works.”

My dry tone caught her off guard. Hell, it caught me off guard.

Tori narrowed her eyes, then shoved to her feet. With deliberate steps, she walked to the door and dumped Harper’s file in the trash on her way out.

When Tori returned, a steaming plate of food in her hand, her brows drew together as she watched me tossing stuff into my backpack.

“I warmed up some Thai.” She offered me her plate. “Where are you going?”

Seething, I picked up my phone, rereading Chase’s message.

Come by anytime.

“I’m tired. I’ll figure this stuff out tomorrow.”

Leaving Tori with her noodles and her mouth slightly agape, I stormed out.

Beckett jogged over, NERF basketball in hand as I marched through the office. “Hey, babe. You hungry? Let’s go grab some dinner.”

I glanced briefly at the group of female interns as I shouldered my way out the door. “I’ve got plans. There’s plenty here to keep you busy.”

Waiting for the elevator, I clenched my teeth when heavy footfalls sounded behind me.

And then Beckett’s breath fanned over the back of my neck like a warm breeze. “Did you pack a bag?”

Stepping onto the lift, I turned to face him.

“Yes or no?” he persisted, slamming his hand on the closing door.

Jabbing the button, I looked him in the eyes. “Yes.”

His hand fell to his side, and the door slid shut. “This isn’t over,” I heard him yell.

Closing my eyes, I slumped against the back wall. “Yes, it is.”

* * *

I couldn’t bring myself to go to Chase’s. Instead, I drove for hours. For all my posturing, I wasn’t one-night stand material. Even if that one-night stand stretched into a week, or even two. In the end, I’d want more.

That voice in my head that belonged to Paige urged me to take a chance.

You don’t have enough fun. Live a little.

But I couldn’t be like Paige. All fun, no strings. And I didn’t inspire lasting love in men the way that Tori did.

I was the in-between girl. The friend you loved for a lifetime, who wasn’t the love of your life.

Could I be that for another man? Was that even an option with Chase?

Maybe he had enough friends. But then, so did I.

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