Chapter 1
Mel Fairbanks watched the tall, sexy, dark haired man as he mingled with the other bigwigs at the record label party from her post behind the bar. He was sexy, she’d give him that, but that’s not why she was staring at him. Tristan Powers was not only a person of stature in the record label, he owned it. That meant he had something Mel wanted; a record contract. Playing guitar and singing at open mic nights were one thing but Mel wanted to make it big. She deserved to make it big. Especially after…no she wouldn’t think about that right now, she had work to do, and she didn’t mean serving drinks to drunken, handsy, rich men.
Mel watched Tristan circle the room, smiling and shaking hands with everyone while his body language was rigid. She wondered what he had to be so standoffish about. Shrugging with resignation, Mel grabbed her tray, tugging the tiny skirt down to cover her ample bottom, and rounded the bar. Plastering a fake smile on her face she sidled up to two men in their fifties, handing them each a cold bottle of beer and pocketing the tip they gave her in the small apron over her skirt. At least this job was good tips. Mel snorted; it was a small price to pay to have her ass ogled by strangers if she could walk out of here with enough money for two months rent.
The next two hours went by quickly, and before Mel knew it she only had a small window of an hour left to make her move and talk to Tristan Powers. She needed to do this, to get her head out of her ass and make something of her herself. Waitressing, open mic night and other tiny gigs at small bars weren’t going to pay the bills for long. It was her dream and she had to at least give it a shot. Finally a window of opportunity opened when a man; a very sleazy, slicked back hair, rapist looking man, who was talking to Mr. Powers asked her to get him a drink. Then tried to slap her ass. Luckily for her, Mel was quick and was out of his arms range before he made contact. She made the decision right then and there that after delivering this man’s drink she would talk to Tristan. This was her only shot. Nerves caused her stomach to clench as she walked the extra fruity drink back to the sleazy guy but she took two deep breaths and forced them back; now was not the time to chicken out.
Mel handed the man his drink. “Thanks, doll,” He muttered, his nasty, hot breath making Mel want to gag as he leaned in. Did he think she was going to kiss him?
Backing up, Mel said, “You’re welcome.”
She waited for a tip but he didn’t produce one. Mel frowned, but kept her dissatisfaction to herself; nothing was going to get in the way of her speaking to Tristan Powers. When she didn’t respond to the man’s advances after a moment, he moved on to another cabana girl, managing to grab her ass before she could get out of his way. Mel stood close to Tristan, feeling a little awkward. He was talking to a man on his right and Mel was back by his left elbow. She wasn’t sure how to proceed. Not wanting a little awkwardness to discourage her, Mel waited for a moment until the man he was speaking to walked away. Now was her chance!
“Excuse me, Mr. Powers?” Mel hated how small and timid she sounded, but to be honest, he intimidated her a bit.
Mr. Powers turned, and looked down at her, a dark frown spreading across his face. “Can I help you?” He sounded put out, like she was the last person who should be speaking to him.
Mel’s stomach knotted and she almost bolted. No, this had to be done. This was what she wanted. She cleared her throat and began. “I, um, I’m Mel Fairbanks, a cabana girl,” Mel motioned weakly towards the bar, “I just wanted to ask you a question.”
Tristan didn’t answer; he just stared at her with a look of boredom.
“Um, I’m a singer/songwriter and I was wondering if you have any time to hear me play a…”
Tristan raised a hand as if to dismiss her. “I’m sorry, Ms. Fairbanks. I’m very busy at the moment. If you could just resume the job that I’m paying you to do we will forget this conversation ever happened.” He turned and walked away without another word.
Mel stood for a moment, her face heating. That was the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to her. Fortunately for her, very few people saw how Tristan Powers humiliated her. Pressing a cold hand to her hot cheek, Mel turned and walked back to the bar.
“Did you do it?” Blake asked, tossing her long, red curls behind her shoulder.
Mel nodded. “It was awful. He dismissed me like a dog. Blake, what am I going to do? That was my last shot. None of the other record labels I’ve contacted will even return my calls. I don’t think this is going to happen.” She looked down at her hands, which were grasped tightly together, and frowned.
Blake patted her back, brushing Mel’s shiny black hair off of her shoulder. Refusing to cry at work, Mel squeezed Blake’s hand and rounded the bar, ready to resume her shift.
*****
Tristan watched the woman with the café au lait skin as she rounded the bar while her red headed friend jabbered on. These women were all the same. They thought they could use their good looks to get a record deal. He’d seen them all. Most were rich kids, and daddy was paying for them to have a session at the studio. They’d record an awful song and get a copy of it but Tristan refused to even try to get it out there. The ones without rich fathers tried to use their good looks and sex to persuade Tristan to give them a contract. Just like their rich counterparts they had little to no talent and couldn’t carry a tune to save their sorry skin. Sometimes Tristan would use them, but after once or twice he was bored with them and had better things to do like run a company. He had yet to encounter anyone with real talent who looked like that Fairbanks girl and he wasn’t inclined to waste what little time he had at a night out networking on some nobody with a guitar.
“Mr. Powers,” Tristan turned, his fake smile in place and his hand out ready to shake. He never had enough investors and making the right contacts kept his company relevant.
It was time to schmooze and he wouldn’t give that woman another thought, even if her ass in that short skirt made his dick stir. Watching her move away from the bar from the corner of his eye as he talked shop with a possible investor, Tristan decided to keep an eye on her for the rest of the night. She may be worth bringing home for some fun even if she had no talent.
*****
Mel’s feet were on fire by the time she and Blake started cleaning up the mess left behind as the people began to stream out of the party. There were still a few rather drunk individuals lounging by the pool, ordering drink after drink with no end in sight. Mel was told the party was only until midnight. It was currently quarter to two in the morning and people were still partying. It didn’t matter that the DJ had left an hour ago or that they were closing down the bar.
Rich people just don’t know when to pack it in, Mel thought slipping her wedge sandal off and rubbing her aching arches.
“I thought this thing ended at twelve,” Blake mumbled. She gathered several empty cups and tossed them into the trash can which they were laying right next to.
Mel shrugged. “I was told the same by the catering company. Does that mean we can leave?” She slipped her sandal back on and smoothed her skirt back down.
Blake returned the shrug and continued to clean up the bar area. They weren’t technically supposed to clean up afterwards, but Mel and Blake always made a point to clean up the area where they worked. The clients liked it and in return would request them to do parties.
“So is this Tristan’s house?” Blake asked as they threw their last empty liquor bottle into a recycling bin behind the property.
“I’m not sure. It didn’t say. Could be a place the label rented just for the party.”
Mel and Blake wandered back towards the bar area to retrieve their jackets and purses before making their way through the small crowd to the back gate to exit the yard. Mel looked back. It wasn’t like any yard she had ever seen before. It had to be at least two acres, one of which was taken up by a large salt water pool and gigantic patio where the party was held. Living in a place like that had always been Mel’s dream; one that she thought may come true if she could get a record deal. Sighing, she realized that it was likely a pipe dream. Digging in her purse for her phone and key’s Mel realized that something was missing.
“Shit, I forgot my phone. Wait here, I’ll be right back.” Mel said to Blake as they reached the rear of the yard.
Blake nodded, and Mel took off back towards the bar as fast as she could with her heels. All she wanted was to go home and take a hot shower and go to bed; crying herself to sleep sounded really great right about now.
“There you are my little brown goddess.” Mel turned as a pair of man’s hands encircled her waist.
She was face to face with the sleazy drunk man from earlier and he was even drunker.
“I’m leaving, please let me go.” Mel pleaded with him as he pulled her back under one of the cabana tents that were set up around the patio, tossing her on a chaise in the middle of it.
“I don’t think so,” he slurred. The man’s breath reeked of alcohol.
Mel lay still on the chaise, looking around for a way to get out of the cabana. There was only one way in or out; the way she came in, and the man was blocking the exit. The man leered at her, moving closer. Mel looked around again frantically but there was no way out. She squeezed her eyes shut so she wouldn’t have to watch the man assault her. This night was not ending at all the way she pictured it.
*****
Tristan heard a woman scream from inside of one of the cabanas on the patio. He looked around. There weren’t many guests left and those that were left were wasted. Sighing with irritation, Tristan waved the butler over. Of course he couldn’t count on rich brats to get themselves out of his home by the appointed hour. They never wanted to stop partying.
“Bernard, can you please round up the stragglers and throw them the hell off of my property?” Bernard nodded and Tristan moved down away from the mansion and towards the cabana in which he heard the screams.
It didn’t appear anyone was down there, but he figured he would check anyway to be sure. People thought he was a cold hearted bastard but a woman being assaulted on his property when he could have stopped it would eat at him. Speeding up a bit, Tristan rounded the corner of the cabana only to find Stewart Latham, the accountant for the record label, piss drunk and advancing on a woman on the chaise. The woman’s eyes widened when she saw him approaching and she mouthed ‘please help me’.
“Stewart, what’s the meaning of this?” Tristan said loudly.
Stewart turned, his eyes wide. “Um, I was just... Damn.” Stewart backed up looking sheepish.
“How about you leave the lady alone, Stewart. Walk it off and then leave or you won’t have a job come Monday morning.”
Stewart’s eyes widened even more, making him look like an owl. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, miss. I forgot my manners.” He turned and ran off looking extremely sober.
The woman stood up slowly, and that’s when he realized it was the Fairbanks woman. Looked like he would have to talk to her after all.
*****
Mel watched the disgusting man, Stewart, run from the cabana like a scared kitten. Apparently he worked for Tristan and that was enough to scare him away. Why did it seem people were so intimidated by this guy? Standing up slowly to gain her bearings back, Mel looked at him.
“I apologize for Stewart. He’s never been good at holding his liquor.” Tristan looked her up and down as he spoke and Mel shifted uncomfortably, hugging her sweater around her.
“I guess it’s okay to talk to the lowly help when they are almost assaulted by one of your employees?” Mel whispered snidely, pushing past him to exit the cabana. She ignored the brush of his muscular arm against hers and the way it made her stomach flip flop. He was so not her type.
Tristan smirked, a dark glint in his ice blue eyes. “Touché, Ms. Fairbanks.” He responded. Mel didn’t realize he heard her. “What is it that you wanted to talk to me about anyway?”
Mel froze at the door. Was he really going to listen? Taking a deep breath so that she wouldn’t chicken out, she turned around, trying to hide the bit of excitement at the prospect of finally having her music signed to a label.
“My music. I’m a singer and a songwriter. I play acoustic guitar. I wanted to play for you to see if you thought I was worthy of the Powers label.” Mel almost curtsyed but figured she didn’t want to push her luck and be too much of a smart ass.
Tristan chuckled, he actually laughed at her. Was he going to dismiss her again?
“Well then. I guess I owe it to you since you were almost assaulted on my property.”
Mel’s eyes went as wide as Stewart's before he ran from the cabana. He was going to listen to her music?
“I will give you my card,” and as he said it he whipped the card out from a hidden pocket inside of his suit jacket, “and you can come by on Monday morning to play for me. How is that?”
Mel nodded, too shocked to actually answer. She took the card from him and started to walk away.
“Oh and Ms. Fairbanks?” Mel turned waiting for him to continue. “I don’t just do these types of things for free. If I like your music we will have to discuss an arrangement.” He looked her up and down once more. Why did Mel get the feeling this arrangement involved more than music?
*****
“What the hell happened to you? I’ve been waiting out here freezing my little white ass off.” Blake yelled, teeth chattering, when Mel walked out of the gates.
“Guess what happened, Blake!” Mel shrieked, ignoring her previous comment.
Blake raised an eyebrow at her and waited.
“That sleazy drunk guy from earlier almost assaulted me in a cabana…”
“Oh my God, Mel! Are you al…”
“I’m fine. He didn’t assault me, just let me finish. Tristan Powers himself saved the day, in his dark knightly way, and guess what he agreed to?”
“Um…”
“Dammit, Blake! He wants me to sing for him on Monday at the studio!” Mel yelled as they hopped into Blake’s car. Blake was being awfully dense tonight.
“Oh my God! I forgot that was your objective tonight. That’s so awesome, Mel. I bet you get signed. I can just feel it.”
Mel held up her hand as if to tell Blake to calm down. “Let’s not jump the gun here. I still have to wow him with my mad singing skills.”
Blake rolled her eyes. “I knew you would be a superstar the first time I heard you singing in my shower when we were twelve.”
“You have to say that, you love me.” Mel said.
Blake smacked her on the arm and they drove the rest of the way in silence. What if Blake was right? Would she wow him? Monday seemed so far away all of a sudden and Mel wasn’t sure how she would be able to wait one more moment.
*****
Mel stepped from the elevator, her heart pounding in her chest. It felt like someone had released a thousand butterflies inside of her stomach. Taking a deep breath, and willing herself not to turn and jump back onto the elevator, Mel moved towards the double glass doors of Powers Records. This was it; she was really going to play her music for a label. Shaking the nerves from her hands, Mel approached the reception desk.
“Can I help you?” The petite, pretty, Asian woman behind the desk asked.
Mel nodded, her words escaping her for a moment. “Uh, yes. I’m here to see Mr. Powers.”
The woman nodded. “Have a seat over there and he will be right with you.” She pointed to a small row of black leather seats in the corner.
Mel nodded again, feeling like a bobble head and made her way over to the seats. Waiting for what felt like hours, though Mel was sure only fifteen minutes had passed, she scrolled through her phone trying to occupy her time. The weight of her guitar against her knee reminded her why she was there and the butterflies began their dancing again in her stomach. After another agonizing five minutes, Tristan appeared in front of her, a dark look on his face.
Mel stood quickly, her guitar case clattering to the ground. “Shit!” She hissed, bending to pick it up.
Tristan bent at the same time and they collided, bumping heads. “Dammit!” he yelled, rubbing his forehead.
Mel rubbed her head too, stifling a laugh. This guy took himself entirely too seriously. Mel flung the strap for her guitar case over her shoulder and followed him; kept up with him was a more appropriate way to describe it since he was practically running down the hall away from her. Tristan finally stopped at a door to a sound booth, and Mel skidded to a halt behind him, panting under the burden of her guitar.
“After you,” Tristan said, waving her into the room.
Nodding again, Mel preceded him, stepping to the side against the back wall to let him through. There wasn’t a lot of room to maneuver and Mel wasn’t sure why she didn’t just sing for him in his office. It’s not like she was recording something today. Sighing with confusion, Mel set her guitar case down and snapped it opened, lovingly pulling her guitar from where it rested. Mel loved her guitar. It was the last thing her parents bought her before… No, she didn’t want to think about it today. Today was supposed to be a happy day.
“Where would you like me?” She asked, looking around the room.
When her eyes met with Tristan’s again, he had a strange look on his face. A dark look. Mel wasn’t sure what it was about but that was too vague, since it seemed all of his looks were dark.
“Just sit over there.” He pointed to the far corner of the room where a chair sat all alone.
“Ok.” Mel walked over, feeling Tristan’s eyes burrowing under her skin through her billowy maxi dress. What was happening?
She sat, resting her guitar on her knee, and began to play. Before long she was lost in her song and wasn’t aware that she was playing in front of Tristan any longer. Mel always felt free when she played and the music and lyrics washed over her as the song she wrote floated through the room. She understood now why he had her play in here, the sound was fabulous. This was a song she wrote after her parents died in a car crash when she was twelve. The dark and lonely words made Mel’s chest ache but she didn’t cry, having shed too many tears for the loss of her parents already. Instead she let the music sooth her pain, as she always did, and sang her little heart out.
When she finally finished, she looked up at Tristan, the strange look now replaced with another. He didn’t speak right away, but instead stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. It made Mel shiver in a way she didn’t understand. Not yet anyway. Tristan broke the gaze first, walking towards her slowly. Mel’s heart sped up, he looked predatory and it made heat spread from between her thighs up to her face. She fought the urge to look away even though his stare was so intense that the room heated at least a few degrees. Why was he looking at her like that?
Mel shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the strange arousal that she felt at Tristan’s stare spreading over her like wild fire. This never happened to her, she didn’t date, not really. How this one dark and lovely man managed to break through her walls of protection in only moments scared Mel beyond words.
Tristan stopped in front of her and looked down so he would meet her eyes. “That was wonderful. I want to talk to you more about it over drinks. Will you come with me?”
Mel looked at Tristan’s outstretched hand unsure of what to do. She really wanted a record deal but why did he want her to go somewhere else to talk about it? Waiting a few minutes before she responded, Mel finally decided to grab his hand.
What the hell, she thought, what have I got to lose.