Page 66 of Take What You Want

“Yes. No backing out now. Especially not after that performance. The two of you might not exactly enjoy each other’s presence offstage, but onstage…” He trails off and pulls up his phone, a video queued up that’s already been posted on social media.

It shows the two of us singing the bridge. Our bodies lean into one another, my much larger frame swallowing hers. The stage lights dance over our profiles and paint us in technicolor. Kerra smiles as she sings and I return it as I lean into her, the song, the show of it all. Damn, even I’m convinced that we have chemistry.

Arun’s right.

We look good together.

But it’s just a show. We’re two pieces from two completely different puzzles. As long as the masses are convinced though, which based on the excited expressions of everyone in the room, I’d say we’re doing our job.

“Are you showing that to me so I’ll say you were right all along?”

He chuckles and tucks his phone in his suit. “Simply thought it would be helpful for you to see from a third party perspective. And to keep it up as the marketing campaign starts now. You two are an item now. You need to uphold your side on that.”

I roll my shoulders back and look around the room as I mutter, “Yeah, yeah.” My eyes dart from person to person and my stomach drops more and more each time I come up short with the person I’m looking for.

The person I’ve been searching for in every crowd since I was a teenager.

I know she’s here. She was in the VIP section during the show and Hendrik confirmed with me when he arrived with her earlier this evening.

Did she leave?

She wouldn’t have.

I go to step out into the hallway to try to find her when I’m intercepted by a few members on Arun’s team. All of them have been around since the early Whisper Me Nothings days and their excitement for my new solo venture is palpable as they praise the new song and chat about how my studio sessions are going.

Normally, making small talk comes easily. It has to when you’re in a line of work like this. But right now, it’s damn near impossible to focus when all I can wonder is where Jane is. Was she upset? It’s not like she didn’t know about Kerra and the fact that we’d be performing together.

Hopefully I appear more engaged with the conversation than I actually am, but all of that flies out the window when the door opens and in walks my favorite distraction and biggest regret wrapped up in the sexiest black dress I’ve ever seen.

My entire focus lasers in on Jane as she enters, chatting with Arun’s marketing manager. She fiddles with the strap on herpurse as she warily eyes the crowded room. Her lips are a rich, ruby red and her high cheekbones hold a dark flush. Perfectly rimming my favorite shade of green are dark, thick lashes and her eyes dart around the room as if she’s looking for something.

She’s a fucking work of art, and hatred pumps through my veins that I let her go.

As soon as there’s a lull in conversation, I politely excuse myself and step away from the group. Jane must feel my gaze burning into the side of her head because she meets my eyes for the first time and my stomach drops the second she does.

She shifts on her feet, pursing her lips. The chill from her expression travels across the room and down my spine.

What the hell?

While her palpable unease gives me pause for a moment, I continue to make my way toward her. She shifts and angles her body away from me as if she’s enthralled with her current conversation.

A hand stops me in my tracks.

“Remember what we just talked about?” Arun’s voice is low. “You have a deal to uphold now. And that’s not part of it.” He follows my eyeline to Jane. His grip is tight on my arm but his words feel more like a chain around my heart instead.

I’ll apologize for it later, but right now, I ignore him. Shaking off his hand, I make my way toward her. She recedes back a few steps and that only makes me want to corner her more.

What happened between this morning and now? Why does she look like she’s going to be sick when she looks at me?

“Hey, man, great show.” Raymond, Arun’s head of marketing, holds out his hand, and I shake it absentmindedly, not taking my eyes off Jane.

“Thank you,” I answer. “Did you enjoy the show?” My question is directed at Jane, and she crosses her arms, pushing her breasts higher.

“It was good,” she replies in a monotone that turns my unease to irritation.

“Good?” I rear back.

“Fine.”

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