Page 117 of Wingwoman
I worried my bottom lip, not sure how much I should divulge. On one hand, he’d been so good about not revealing my secrets, I wanted to return that favor. But on the other hand, my friends were incredibly resourceful and I knew they could help. We just needed to put our heads together. “He… he has debt he needs to pay off,” I said carefully. “Not his own. But it’s serious. We have a week to get half a million dollars.”
“He’s a rockstar… he seriously doesn’t have half a million dollars?” Carrow asked.
“He does. At least, I think he does. But I don’t know, I just want to contribute in any way I can. Like, I’m just sitting here getting all these designer things—scarves, boots, dresses—and he’s fighting for the lives of these incredible horses.”
Carrow sat back, draining the rest of her champagne. “Okay. What did you have in mind?”
A slow smile spread on my face. “Before you were a divorce attorney, you worked in entertainment law, right?”
Her eyes brightened. “I did. I worked with all kinds of labels.”
A smile split my face. “Well… I have an idea.”
Thirty-Three
JOSH
“What time is she coming back?”Matt sat on my couch with Cash sprawled on his back beside him, shamelessly basking in the belly rubs.
“Dunno,” I grunted, fumbling with my tie in the mirror. I still had four hours until the event. I wasn’t sure why the hell I was already getting dressed other than I didn’t know what the hell else to do with my time until Hope returned.
I hadn’t seen much of her since her friends arrived yesterday and I wasn’t counting on how grumpy that would make me.
She even spent the night with them at their hotel.
I spent all day yesterday in my studio writing while they shopped for their outfits for the rodeo. The first five hours were insanely productive.
But then with her gone overnight?
All that productivity vanished.
If there was ever any evidence I was getting too attached too soon, this was it.
It was like her being gone for a night took all the oxygen from the house.
I’d always said, happiness didn’t produce good songs. Happiness made you complacent. It was in the depths of heartbreak that the real inspiration came. But I needed the happiness first in order to orchestrate the heartbreak.
It’d only been a week, and I had written a couple good songs… but the real genius was yet to come. When Hope left me for good.
And Matt and I both knew that. Because he was one astute mother fucker.
So then it begged the question… why did I have the opposite reaction with her gone last night? Why wasn’t the absence of her making my creativity spark?
Because she’s not really gone. I knew she’d be back.
“So?” Matt asked. “Am I ever going to hear this song you supposedly finished yesterday?”
That earned him another grunt.
“Come on,” he prodded. “The fact you finishedanysong with this girl is pretty incredible. Usually when you’re dating someone, you don’t write at all.”
See? Astute.
“Yeah.” Another spike of guilt nailed deeper in my stomach. On one hand, I hated keeping all this from Hope. But on the other, the plan wouldn’t work if she was privy to it. “But one song doesn’t make an album,” I grumbled.
Matt shrugged. “True. But you only really need one song off an album to be ahit.”
Suddenly my jaw felt like it was going to crack my teeth into mosaics.
