Page 105 of One Last Verse

There was no malice in his tone. No regret either. He seemed overly calm considering how much shit the tabloids had posted about him after everything that happened at the party. Frank wasn’t the only one whose reputation took a public beating. Although Dante’s reputation was born out of scandal.

In a sick way, I envied his no-fucks-given attitude and his ability to block out and move on. He was a natural-born asshole superstar who didn’t care about anything or anyone but his own gain, and I was merely a girl with my heart in shambles. Playing the role of a good Samaritan wasn’t like him. Contrary to what he’d once claimed, we weren’t friends. Just the opposite. We were foes. Yet here we were. Alone. Maybe it was time for us to dot the i’s and cross the t’s.

Still reeling, I took him up on his offer and rubbed my chest in an attempt to evict the pain. “Okay, I’ll have one, but not too strong.” My voice was a hoarse whisper.

Dante poured himself a glass and took a swallow. His features crinkled. “Don’t worry about that punk.” He grabbed another bottle. “They have security cameras here. They’ll catch the fucker.”

Drawing a deep, painful breath through my teeth, I watched him finish mixing his drink and move on to making another one. He spun around to face the shelf and scanned its contents, then fumbled through the cabinets and fished out a tiny umbrella.

“Ah!” A silly grin passed his lips. He raised his hand to demonstrate his find. “This has your name written all over it, little lady.” A smirk.

I smiled at his goofy remark. Apparently, this was just a pretend pub. Dante continued to work on the drink. Bottles clanked. Ice rattled.

The silence that stretched between us was awkward. I felt like I was behind enemy lines. Witnessing said enemy cooking up the cocktail of death. For me.

My phone buzzed. Levi wanted to know where I was. I sent him a text explaining we were in one of the private rooms upstairs.

Once satisfied with the results, Dante grabbed both glasses and walked over. “It’ll make you feel better.” He handed me the one with the dangerous-looking blue liquid.

I took the drink and stared at the umbrella. “It seems like it’ll make me feel the opposite of better.”

“Anyone ever told you that you have a great sense of humor?” He circled the room and deposited his hat on the pool table, then tossed his lollipop into the nearest trash can.

“Yes. Frank did.”

We locked eyes. His were dark and impenetrable, and I wondered how much he’d had to drink.

“Look… I’m sorry things got out of control during the party.” There was a real apology in his tone.

“I can’t even go to the store now. I have to get my groceries delivered to me.”

“It’s that bad, huh?” Dante stared at the bottom of his drink, confusion evident in his features. “Why do you need to go to the store anyway? Have Hannah do it.”

“Frank and I aren’t together…” My voice shook. I didn’t know why I was telling any of this to Dante. He was partially responsible for the clusterfuck my life had become, but he was the sweet monster. The charming kind you wanted to keep talking to.

His gaze drifted back to me and his eyes wandered across my face. “How come?”

A sarcastic laugh escaped my throat. “Do you really have to ask me that after everything that happened?”

“I don’t know what’s going on between you two.” He shrugged and took a swallow of his drink. “He’s not fucking answering my calls.”

“Of course he’s not. You didn’t stand by him when the label decided to fire him. You didn’t even have the decency to put up the original promotional poster at your party. Instead, you slapped Marshall’s face next to Frank’s artwork.”

“That doesn’t explain why you two aren’t together anymore.”

My frustration began to choke me. “Because I don’t want him to make any more promises he doesn’t plan on keeping. I’m okay with him breaking those promises when they’re made to me. I can take the heat. I grew up with a man like that. But I’m not okay with him breaking promises he made to a nineteen-year-old girl. Publicly. You just can’t do that. You can’t give hope to a person and then take it away. It’s not right.”

I paused. My heart thundered inside my battered chest. I brought the glass to my lips and took a sip of my drink. It wasn’t half bad. Sweet and bubbly. Like the old version of me. Pre-Frank. Right now, I was a ball of hurt and bitterness, and I didn’t like who I’d become a single bit.

“You can’t protect everyone, Cassy. People flake and cheat. It is what it is. A cutthroat business. Not a charity. You don’t get a label to invest money in you unless you have what they’re looking for and it’s not always the talent.”

“Exactly. And people like you and Frank who actually pull some weight in this business and have a chance to change things around for younger musicians resort to hiding in the shadows, letting the labels rape the artists emotionally and financially.”

Seconds passed as Dante stared at me intensely. His palm that was wrapped around his glass remained still, as if one wrong move was going to interrupt his thinking process.

Then there was a knock.

“Hold that thought, short stuff.” He threw his hand in the air and cracked the door open. A wall of noise reigning the lanes drifted into the room. Levi marched in with my bag in hand. He was accompanied by a police officer and one of the guards who’d worked the red carpet. Dante stood back as I answered questions. It was over so soon, it felt like I’d dreamed the entire conversation. The only indication of the officer ever speaking to me was the business card he gave me before he left. I slid it into the side pocket of my bag and returned my attention to Levi.

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