Page 95 of On The Edge
“I speak for all of us when I say if we hear one more cruel word about her from your mouth then we won’t be in business together. No ifs, ands, or buts, about it,” Markus says, stopping right before we’re at the door. “Know this, Louis; we’d rather take our chances without you, then live without her. She’s more important than anything. The band, money, fame. None of it matters without her. So, if you like your job and the money we make you, then you’ll keep her very, very happy.”
Louis looks at each of us, his expression going from denial to awe, and his eyes widen when it finally fucking clicks in his mind that we’re serious.
“Don’t forget it,” I snap, and walk out, letting Markus slam the door on the way out. Only time will tell if we’ve scared him straight or if he’s going to be a slick, sly fox, and fuck us over.
Either way, we’ve made our stance clear.
TWENTY-THREE
FIVE DAYS LATER
I didmy best to reach out to my old clients and thank them, apologizing for the shift in primary provider, but I never got a response. From anyone.
My partner, Hannah, who owns half ofThe Social Buzz, hasn’t responded to me either. It’s getting weird, but I assume she heard thatOn The Edgeis now one of our clients and is fielding other potential clients. We are a decent sized business, obviously since I’m able to do this full time and make a sufficient living, but not quite at this major rockstar level that’s been brought to us.
At least we weren’t.
I’m still pissed off that Reis did this, but I can’t look this career-changing gift in the mouth. For the sake of the business, we can’t turn it down.
The guys came home from the first meeting with Louis, all with various degrees of annoyance or anger on their faces, but didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t pry, it’s none of my business. If they wanted to tell me, they would. But we spent the rest ofthat day in their studio, where I got serenaded over and over. Each time, making me blush like crazy.
I wouldn’t mind doing it again. And honestly, I could at any moment. They’ve been in the studio basically non-stop for the last week preparing for the tour. Adam said that this short of a tour wasn’t uncommon, but it was intense as fuck.
Truth be told, I’ve never been overseas, so I’m nervous. But I don’t want to be separated from them so soon after figuring out what we mean to each other. It’d be like a cruel test that I’m not ready to even consider taking.
After I told them I would go with them, it was Adam’s turn for me to stay the night with him and he showed me just how excited he was that I was coming with them. All. Night. Long.
Thank fuck they have thick walls because that man made me scream. I tried not to looktooproud when he walked out the next morning with a few very visible hickeys decorating his neck and a fresh set of scratches down his back.
Today’s the day we’re going to London, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t like a kid on Christmas. The guys got me a suitcase and somehow expedited a passport for me within five days. Money really does talk.
I’ve been hard at work getting all their socials in a line and organized so everyone in the UK knowsOn The Edgeis coming. I’ve been tracking the data from when I took over and each account’s engagement is up by five percent. It’s small, but it’s definite proof of growth.
“Come on, guys!” I yell through the apartment. “We don’t want to miss our flight!”
“Mel, baby,” Reis comes walking towards me in grey sweats–grey fucking sweatpants, God’s gift to women–and a backward baseball cap with aviators hanging from the collar of his T-shirt, dragging a suitcase behind him. “We own the plane; they aren’t leaving without us.”
“Just because you own the plane doesn’t mean you get to be rude about other people's time,” I sigh, looking down at my watch. “Seriously, we have fifteen minutes before we have to be in the car. Adam, Markus, Kai, move your asses!”
Reis laughs heartily, the sound soothing my anxiety. He comes over, and pulls me in his arms for a big hug, lifting me off the ground.
“It’s okay, I promise,” he says softly, kissing my cheek. “We will make it worth everyone’s while, okay?”
“Don’t you start that with me, Reis Mathers. I seem to remember someone throwing a temper tantrum in the 10thgrade because our geometry teacher was twenty minutes late. You went on, and on, and on, about how rude and disrespectful it was.” I cross my arms over my chest and look up at him with a glint of mischievousness in my eye. “What changed?”
Reis opens his mouth, but Kai answers.
“If the teacher had paid us an extra $100 for every five minutes he was late, we all would’ve been very cool with it.” Kai shrugs his leather jacket over his shoulders, pulling his backpack over his shoulder when he’s done. “Why are you screaming at us like a drill sergeant?”
“Very true. On both counts,” Reis says with raised eyebrows, pointing to Kai and nodding, before looking back at me.
“Don’t,” I drop my shoulders and let my head fall back. “Do not start this whole ‘I’m rich so I can do whatever I want’ bullshit.”
“But wearerich andcando whatever we want,” Markus sighs tiredly, and walks in rolling his own suitcase with a denim jacket in hand. “It’s too early.”
Rolling my eyes, I check that I have my passport, drivers license, and my bank card on me.
“What’s that?” Markus looks over at my little document organizer I’ve put in my cross-body bag. They’re going to give me a lot of shit for this. I know it.
