Page 113 of Before Now

“No chance.” Dev sighs and hangs his head. “It has to be group hysteria.”

But I smile and knock Felix’s hand away. “Nah, we’re lucid. But you’re right. It didn’t just fucking happen.” I spin and slap a grinning Colt on the shoulder on my way past him. “We made it fucking happen.”

32

REMI

“Sinner.”

I narrow my gaze at the meddling director glaring back at me through my laptop screen. “Heath.”

The stare down continues until I consider the possibility of the call having frozen. But before I break first to check, Heath releases a pent-up sigh and relaxes into his office chair, finger to temple.

“So, you’re still upset.”

Stillrefers to the three-paragraph text I sent after talking to Xander about what went down with Heath and the label. I told him he was wildly off base, and if he’d bothered talking to me first, he could have saved himself the trouble of caring. He replied with:I’ll call Sunday. Be over it by then.

“Yeah, I am.” I sit back on my bed, pulling the computer onto my lap and leaning against the headboard. “You took into consideration everyone’s input on me, my safety, and my working conditionsexceptfor mine.”

He looks like he has plenty to say, so it surprises me when he says, “You’re right.”

I blink at him. “Wh-what? Is this a trap?”

“For fuck’s sake.” He rubs his temple like I’m giving him a headache. “No, it’s called introspection, Sinner. After twenty years in an industry full of abusive man-babies who think breathing is consent, you morally bottom out and act oblivious, or you assume everyone is a duck all the time. I made a call based on experiences with too many terrible fucking people. But you’re right. I should have talked to you before anyone.”

Twice he said I’m right, and twice I’ve feared someone might have a gun to his head. “Um … thank you?”

His gaze darts to the side and appears further annoyed once it returns. “Text me another essay, and I guarantee you’ll never have another director credit in your life.”

“He’s lying,” Jasmine calls from off screen.

I press my lips together to school my expression as his face tips to the ceiling.

“And that’s why,” he mumbles.

His gorgeous wife pops her blonde head in from beside him long enough to wink at me and kiss his cheek. Turns out, the director did have a metaphorical gun to his head this entire time.

Once she and her baby belly have gone, the unholy glare Heath unleashes on me is a warning, a threat, and possibly a curse on my soul if I say a word about it. But I wouldn’t dare. The man slipped, showing he cares for me by overstepping with the label. He was dangerously close to humanity with an almost-apology. Buried deep in there might have even been a near admission of respect.

The tiniest push and he may implode.

“I’ll be sure to make my point succinctly in the future.”

“Great. Fan-fucking-tastic. Now, do I need to hold your hand to get the Adams interview or can you do us both a favor and fucking nail it down?”

“There will be three Adams interviews by the end of the tour. The only hand you need to hold is Jasmine’s in the delivery room. Who else will scowl and terrorize the birthing center staff if not you?”

I tack on a grin he ignores completely.

“The first two better not take until then,” he says. “After you get those and the last of your main shots once the break is over, you don’t need to stay on the road. With Xander there, your crew can finish up and send you the footage.”

The comment catches me off guard, the plan being I remain on tour until the very end. “I can’t leave before New York. I need to conduct the third solo interviews after their last concert.”

“So, you meet the band in New York for the wrap interviews or fly out to LA.” Heath grabs his phone, his interest waning.

I shake my head. “I’ll probably stay. Who knows what shot we might miss.”

“I don’t care what you do, Sinner. Just don’t fuck it up.” Without looking, he reaches forward to end the call, but he stops and glances up. My mentor’s jaw appears ready to crack until he forces out, “I’m glad I was wrong. Tell me if it changes.”

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