Page 132 of Saved By My Buyers

“I have a lot of irons in the fire with my team, and it didn’t occur to any of us to also look into the students’ parents for gang activity,” he says. “I spend about ninety percent of my day, worried someone is going to take the women I love away from me. I already lost Dee once. Bowen and I wouldn’t survive that a second time. I’ll cut you a little slack if you do the same for me.”

Sullivan’s jaw grinds together as he gazes at Jack before nodding. “It’s been a long fucking day, I’m about ready to go home,” he mutters.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, I sigh. It’s already five. Where the hell did the time go?

I guess I got enough real world practice today, I’ll start working on scoring that song. Chewing my lip, I think about Sullivan’s harmony.

“Hey, do you mind if I write The Forgotten as a duet?” I ask Sullivan. “I didn’t think it would work, but I really love it.”

“Of course,” Sullivan says, some of the anger draining from his gaze. “Go for it. If you hit a snag, give me a shout. As much as it sucked having to blindside you with this, I had fun jamming with you.”

“It did look like you just happened to decide to play together instead of what it was,” Jack admits.

The tension dissipates, and I decide testosterone ridden friendships are very odd. They’re complicated, yet not. I feel exhausted just watching them.

“I need a nap,” I announce, yawning. “Is everyone gone?”

“I’ll check the cameras, but you’re good to head home,” Sullivan says with a nod.

Smiling, I grab my stuff, ready for a nap, ice cream, and then dinner in that order. If you can’t have a little fun as an adult, then I want no part in it.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Dahlia

Three days later, a very grumpy Sullivan comes stomping into the building, grumbling, his hair showing signs that he’s been running his fingers through it. He looks like a mad scientist at this point and it’s only eight AM.

“Did you forget to use a brush this morning?” I tease him as he walks through the lobby. Ciara doesn’t smile but I can feel amusement in her body next to me. She does a good job of hiding it.

“I hate today,” he grunts, laying his head on the counter of the desk. “You’re going to too. I have to make an announcement for the New Year’s party. Basically, my backers want to know what the hell we accomplish.”

“I can’t go to parties,” I remind him, shrugging.

“It’s a recital at a donor’s home, Dee. I’ll have Jack provide the security. Please?” Sullivan begs.

Sighing, I glance at Ciara. “That’s going to be a logistical nightmare, right?” I ask her.

“It’ll suck,” she agrees. “We’ll make it work, though, if Jack approves of it.”

“Thank fuck,” Sullivan mutters, standing to make himself look presentable. He’s wearing a button-up gray shirt without a tie, but he rarely wears a tie to work.

“I’ll come back to give you details after I announce it. Tell everyone to go to Auditorium A, please.”

Frowning at him, I watch as he strides away to his office. I don’t even know what this all will entail, but performing in public, this time probably alone, isn’t something I want to be doing.

Professors and students come through the door after showing their badges, and I begin to direct them with a smile to the auditorium.

“Why aren’t you going?” Arina asks, lip curling as she stands in front of my desk.

Encouraging my lips to stay relaxed and not snarl at her, I say, “I’m manning the desk, Arina, so I won’t be in attendance. Please go meet Sullivan in the auditorium as asked.”

“It should be Mr. Hayes to you,” she says. “I don’t know why you think you’re so special. He really saved your ass at the open house. Are you sure you’re not sleeping with him?”

Oh for fuck’s sakes.

I like Sullivan as a friend and a mentor but that’s it. Why does everyone immediately jump to that conclusion?

“Arina! That’s enough,” roars a music theory teacher. Professor Jakobe doesn’t deal with bullshit well, and I appreciate that. Most of the professors here are very straightforward and knowledgeable.

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