Nick rolled over and shielded his eyes from the bright light that suddenly filled his room. He squinted and saw Marley standing by the windows. The cold hearted bastard had raised the shades. Nick glanced at the clock, cursing Marley under his breath.

He'd raised the shades before noon.

"What the hell, Marley?"

"I just got off the phone with Sabrina."

"Who?"

"The girl from the label?"

"Oh right, the Ice Goddess. What did she want?"

Marley just shook his head.

"It's not good Nick."

He sat up abruptly.

"Come on, I need coffee before I get any bad news."

Nick padded barefoot through the mansion toward the kitchen. The marble floors were chilly and it was a good thing.

The skinny maid was in there cooking something. Eggs. And coffee. God that smelled good.

"Good morning Mr. Nick."

"Good morning, love. Can I get a spot of that delicious coffee there."

"You want sugar, Mr. Nick?"

He gave her his best wicked smile.

"Always."

She giggled and made him a cup of coffee, setting it down in front of him.

"Mr. Marley?"

"I'll just make it myself. Thanks, Margarite."

Huh. Marley knew the gel's name. That was impressive.

He sipped his coffee as Marley made himself a cup and then leaned against the white granite island. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth. Nick held up a hand in protest.

"Not yet. I need at least a full cup mate."

Marley nodded and drank his coffee in a few gulps. He looked like he needed the strength. Nick had a bad feeling. He was very intuitive sometimes. He'd learned a long time ago to trust his gut. He finished his cup as string bean- or rather, Margarite- took it from him and refilled it, stirring in a spoonful of raw sugar. She set it down in front of him.

"Thank you, love. Alright, what's the hullabaloo?"

Marley pursed his lips and gathered his thoughts. Oh God, that was a bad sign. Marley wasn't much of a deep thinker.

"The label has come up with an alternate touring schedule."

"So?"

"It's- fuck man, it's a B-List tour. Half the dates and the venues are smaller- some tiny places, mate. It's-"

"Show me."

Nick sipped his coffee calmly. Inside he was seething. He didn't care about much in this world, but don't mess with his music. If this girl had done that, there would be hell to pay.

No matter how shaggable she was.

"Alright, hold on."

Marley walked into the hallway to the office. He was back in just a few minutes with a stack of papers. At the last second he pulled the top sheet off.

"What's that?"

"It's nothing. Just the cover letter."

"Give it here."

Marley sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

"Fine."

Nick grabbed it from his hands and stared down at it. The cheeky little bitch had signed the note. But not as herself.

Bloody hell.

He raked his hand through his hair. She had gumption he'd have to give her that.

"What the hell is that supposed to be- a joke?"

"I think we made a mistake when we sent the flowers."

"We made a mistake?"

"You said to send her the same as last time- well, last time we sent flowers was for Wendel's wake."

"Christ Marley, we need this girl to toe the bloody line! Not go all militant on us."

He sat down again and started reading.

His face cracked into a huge smile as he flipped through the proposed schedule. It wasn't a bad plan actually. Some of the smaller venues were part of rock history. It would be great for a limited tour- he kind of missed playing that sort of intimate venue and really getting off with the crowd. Some of these places were part of his old stomping ground. But if he played them exclusively, he knew what would happen.

People would say he was a has been.

"What do you want to do, Nick?"

"Call her and set up one of those promotional events. Pick the best one. Late night TV. Oh and tell her I’ll do some of the smaller venues. But not all.”

Marley let out a huge sigh of relief.

"Okay Nick."

"Get that skinny redhead. I like him."

"Right. Will do."

"And Marley. Tell her I said, knight to queen's bishop."

"What?"

"She'll understand."