The big conference room off the main hallway at Anthem was the one I usually hated the most because of the huge mirror that hung on the wall, behind where Anthony Pyne, head of A&R sat. There was no escaping your reflection, because if you looked away, Anthony got pissy thinking that you weren't paying attention.

I hated being forced to stare at myself. There was no way to keep from catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and realizing I was cocking my head to the side like some demented Pug, twisting my tongue around in my mouth, or worst of all, was biting my lip like it was a piece of chewing gum out of sheer, nervous habit. My self-consciousness had risen to the point where I barely spoke up in the meetings, preferring instead to listen to the other, more experienced A&R reps talk about the artists they had in development, all the while ignoring my own startled visage staring back at me.

But today's meeting was a whole different story. Today, as Matt Gracie droned on about the band he was developing, giving us all a near minute by minute account of his heroics in service of the label, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and actually liked what I saw. A blush had risen in my cheeks, and it had nothing to do with embarrassment about my awkward tongue placement and everything to do with the placement of Ewan Boyd's tongue last night.

Holy shit. That tongue of his...

My brain still insisted that I should be ashamed, that I should regret letting him do what he had done, but the tingles in my spine, and the dull, insistent, unceasing throbbing between my legs whenever I thought of him told me that there was nothing to regret. He was a grown man, and I was a grown woman, and there was no need for me to worry about how other people saw what we'd done, right?

And besides, I could keep it secret, and I was pretty sure he could, so there was no reason even to worry about anyone finding out.

"It seems like you're on the right track," Anthony said, cutting into my thoughts even as he cut into Matt's monologue.

"Oh, definitely," Matt nodded, preening a little even know it was clear Anthony was cutting him off instead of praising him. "I've been at this a long time..."

"Too long," Anthony interjected.

At this, everyone sitting at the table stiffened at the sudden change in Anthony's tone. I looked at Matt, whose mouth was still half opened, ready to finish his spiel. The temperature of the room felt like it dropped ten degrees.

"You are over budget, and over-leveraged," Anthony went on, as Matt stammered protest. "It's pretty clear to me that your project, and your artists, aren't ready for prime time yet."

I winced. Yeah, Matt was a blowhard, but getting called out on the carpet like this in an all staff meeting was pretty fucking brutal. I shot him a sympathetic glance, but he turned away, the tips of his ears bright red. I knew he thought I was still just a new girl. He knew nothing about me other than I just appeared in the department one day. There were whispers about who I was, but so far, no one had put two and two together, and I wanted to keep it that way for as long as I possibly could.

"Any new business?" Anthony barked, making me jump. Somebody had definitely pissed in his Cheerios this morning because he was on the warpath. He clapped his hands together. "Come on people!" he barked. "We're supposed to be in the business of developing artists. You should be pounding the pavement, going to shows, putting feelers out. We need new talent, and that's your job."

I sat up straighter. No one was speaking up, no one had anything new...

But I did.

"Excuse me," I spoke up. My voice sounded high, girlish. I cleared my throat. "I have someone," I said sounding much more confident that I felt.

All heads whipped around to stare at me, and Anthony leaned forward. "Celia right?" he asked. "You're new?"

I nodded. And Anthony nodded back, his eyes glinting approval. "See now, that's what I'm talking about. That's the drive we need. Celia has only been here for four weeks, and she already has something ready to bring to the meeting. I like that." He leaned back in his chair. "Go ahead, Celia."

I could feel the virulent hatred from every person in the entire room bearing down on me as I leaned forward and glanced at my notes. Matt looked like he had swallowed hot sauce and was trying not to react. His eyes were practically bulging out of his head. "Ahem, well," I choked, looking away from him. "As I'm sure you all know, Crux Records dissolved their relationship with Wrecked."

"Old news," Matt scoffed, interrupting me. "Their crazy lead singer is going to be spending a lot of time in jail and the other one is holed up in some hillbilly town upstate."

I looked up from my notes and shot him a tight grin. "I realize that," I said. "But I wasn't talking about Killian Ness and Jane Doe. I'm talking about Ewan Boyd, Jules Spencer, and Niall Penrose."

"Who the fuck are they?" Matt snipped.

"The rest of the band?" I answered, struggling to keep the incredulity out of my voice. "The people who actually made the music we all listened to?" I swallowed and pressed on. "They are free agents now, and they're putting together a new lineup, with a new lead singer. I've seen him. His name is Hudson Glenn, and he is incredible." I turned back to Anthony who was watching me with an inscrutable expression. "I'd like to sign them."

"How the fuck did she find this in her first freaking week here?" I heard Matt complain to no one in particular. I ignored him and watched Anthony, who was nodding ever so slightly.

"You want to sign Wrecked?" Anthony finally asked.

I shook my head, and allowed a little grin to spread across my face. "No. I want to sign Wreckage."

A small murmur went up from the table. I could tell there was interest, so, spreading my hands, I made my final appeal. "I'm working with them to develop a new look. They already have a new sound with this lead singer. They'll need some rehearsals, true, but their manager is gung ho, and has the chops to go and get them some live shows. We can build some buzz, have a few secret shows for industry only. Get the word out that they're ready." I turned back to Anthony whose eyes were wide, and gave him my biggest smile. "They're ready for the big time again. They've already been on top once, and I know they've got what it takes to be on top again. They're going to make somebody a lot of fucking money," I said, getting a little too into it and swearing in the middle of a meeting. "Sorry, but the way I figure it, that somebody should be Anthem."

Anthony tapped his fingers against the glass topped table, and I held my breath. The silence stretched out for a long time. I turned, looking at the rest of the A&R reps. Some of them looked excited, happy for me, and for the fact that we had somebody new. But I also saw some not so friendly faces. I saw suspicion, jealousy, and on Matt's face I saw nothing short of pure, unadulterated hate.

Quickly I turned back to Anthony who was starting to nod. Slowly, then faster and faster. He leaned back in his chair. "Let's do it," he said, tapping his pen against the chair. "I’ll have legal draw up contracts for you, and you can bring it to them." He looked at me with new respect. "Congratulations Celia. You just signed your first band."