Page 51 of Heartbreaker

As if we really can read each other’s minds.

“Midnight,” he sings, his voice deep and rich. “When there’s no one but you and me, girl. Snowfall, like an avalanche of pearls. Come and show me…la-di-da-midnight…”

“Oh, yes. Yes!” I immediately pick it up. “...it feels like morning but it’s barely midnight, you and me, boy, not lettin’ you out of my sight…” I cut off abruptly, glance over at him. “A duet.”

He frowns. “I don’t sing. I mean, not like that. I’m not a lead singer.”

“But you could do part of this one. I can carry us, and you have no problem harmonizing…Look.” I hand him the guitar and run into the living room where we left the notebooks we’d been doodling in all day yesterday.

He follows me, thoughtfully carrying both my guitar and the mug of coffee I’d already forgotten about.

I’m writing furiously on one of the pads, rough lyrics practically pouring out of me.

There’sno time like midnight when it’s snowing

I look in your eyes, baby, you’re glowing

Show me the moon and I’ll give you the stars

Baby, you know me, and this night is ours.

He nods,humming along.

“Baby, you’re glowing…” he sings. “That would be my verse.”

Then he’s beside me, watching as I write. “No, what about ‘this time is ours’ instead of ‘this night’?”

That could work. I scribble the new lyrics, decide I don’t like them, and go back to the original.

The oven timer goes off, alerting us that breakfast is ready, and I reluctantly put down the guitar.

“Let’s pick this up after we eat,” I suggest.

“Sure.” He follows me into the kitchen.

My phone goes off again, and I roll my eyes before sending it to voicemail and setting it on the counter.

“Farrah again?” he asks.

“No, my manager. They want to schedule a video conference call to discuss what happened. Farrah is apparently quite contrite, apologizing all over the place—she even sent me flowers. I’m just not interested.”

“Tell them that. And this is truly your way out.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, taking the quiche out of the oven.

“You get a good lawyer to say they aren’t representing your best interests. Document everything. Sit down right now, while we’re having breakfast, and make notes. Exactly what happened with Farrah, the date, as close to the time as you remember…you’re ‘in the studio’ this weekend working on new music and they’re bombarding you with annoying calls. Use anything and everything, Jade.” He sounds so sincere, I’m momentarily emotional.

“I will. Thank you.” I go get my notebook and bring it back to the kitchen, jotting down the dates and times I can remember Farrah not doing her job, and digging through my email for the approved list of questions for that interview with Liza Bancroft.

Royal eats quietly while I make notes, letting me get it all down.

This is good stuff, things I wouldn’t have thought to do on my own.

He’s a royal pain-in-the-butt, but I’m starting to see the man beneath the rough façade.

And despite my best efforts not to, I’m starting to like him even more.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

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