Page 119 of Wingwoman
Matt’s eyes went eagle sharp at that. “Excuse me?”
I shook my head. “You heard me. I’m not monetizing my mom’s death.”
Silence thickened the air between us and Matt pinched the bridge of his nose, deep in thought. “Josh, don’t be crazy. The label needs to hear at least one song by the end of next week. And this one is a hit. It’s so good, it might even buy you an extra month to write.”
Good? It was fucking great.
But it was also completely different than anything I’d ever written in my life.
“But it’s nothing compared to what we know is coming,” I managed to croak.
It was why I knew Hope was the one, without a shadow of a doubt. Because I knew her heart belonged to someone else. I knew that even if she gave her body to me, she would never fall for me.
“You wrote one song while you were happy with her. Maybe this is the start of a new Josh? Maybe you’ll write another and then you won’t even have to record this one for the album.”
We both knew that wasn’t going to happen. “Sure. Maybe.”
When it grew silent between us, I turned to find Matt frowning at me.
“How about this? Everyone from the label is going to be at the gala tonight. Play the song there. You always play at least one song anyway, so what better time than this gala to unveil the newest beautiful ballad you wrote about and for your mother? If you play it tonight, then you’re not really monetizing it. Not for profit at least. Just to keep your mother’s horse rescue afloat. And then at least the label will see the progress you’ve been making.”
It wasn’t a bad plan. “I’ll think about it.”
I scrubbed my hand down my face and caught my reflection in the mirror.
I looked rough. Too damn rough to host a charity event whereIwas supposed to be the man in charge.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Matt stand from the couch and walk carefully over to me, scrutinizing me with every step. “She’s moving back to New York right after her dad’s wedding, you know?” he asked me, watching carefully as he said those words. “That’s what Maggie told me.”
“It’s fine,” I muttered. “I know she doesn’t feel the same way about me. For her, this is just sex. A good time. A paycheck.” I gulped, my throat roping at those words. Because even as I said them, they didn’t sit right. It didn’t sound like the Hope I’d grown to know.” I cleared my throat and added, “And you and I both know the best music is born from heartbreak.”
The break in my voice contradicted my nonchalant shrug.
“She’s going to pulverize you,” Matt said.
She already has.
But before I could answer, a hollow, feminine voice with a Texas drawl stronger than even my father’s spoke from behind me.
“A woman breakingyourheart? That’d be a first.”
I whipped around as Matt gasped behind me, “Jenn.”
She was in a ballgown.
Actually…
I squinted and examined the sequined dress that hugged her slim frame.
She was wearing her prom dress. Even though we never dated in high school, she and I had been friends and I remembered the dress from the group photos we’d taken together.
“Jenn,” I said carefully, “what are you doing here?”
“I want to come tonight,” she said, her voice steady as she lifted her chin a touch higher.
Before I could answer, Matt was stepping in front of me. “No way in hell,” he growled protectively.
He already had his phone out, pressed against his ear.
