Page 23 of Stolen Voices
Thankfully, Eli pulls into Pink Pony Studio’s parking lot. He parks, and before he can turn off the car, I unsnap my seat belt and throw open the door to make an escape.
“Fuck, Callie. Wait up.”
I ignore his plea and rush into the studio.
Drowning myself in soulless music sounds way more appealing than letting Eli crack open another piece of the brick façade I am forced to live behind.
The recording light turns off, and the intercom clicks over. I brace myself because I already know what my music producer is going to say.
“That sounds good, Callie, but let’s do it again. I need you to sound more … energetic. You’re too flat, and we need this track to be up,” Reigns says. He’s trying to be nice, but I can hear the frustration in his voice.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Eli grumbles.
I bite back a smile. My agent looks grumpy and pissed off, standing in the background, but it’s clear this is Eli’s first time in a recording studio. He can’t tell that I’m off my game tonight and that it’s all his fault.
Letting that bit of information about my parents slip has me on edge. Eli is the type of man who likes to know everything about everyone. He thrives on being the guy with all the answers and information. He’s a fixer. It’s a part of his agent persona. It can’t be easy for him to know very little about my life. I still wonder how he figured out my real name.
I shake my head clear and answer Reigns, “Okay. Count me in.”
“No. She’s sung the same damn song for the last three hours, and it sounds exactly the fucking same.” I can hear Eli’s frustration in the deep timbre of his voice.
The intercom switches off, and the sound booth falls silent. I fight the laugh bubbling up inside. Eli is wrong. Okay, half wrong. While I’ve sung about ten different songs, they all sound the same.
Any singer would die to make music with Reigns, but my heart isn’t into it. None of these songs are mine.
Eli points his finger at DJ Reigns’s face as he argues with him. I almost feel bad for Reigns because he really is a good guy and a great music producer, but it’s been so long since someone has stood up for me. It feels kind of nice having someone in my corner.
Hudson understands music, so he would just grab a bottle of water and pump me up. Silla would never dream of standing up for me. She dips into these sessions to make sure I’m being the obedient little client she wants before leaving me to fend for myself.
My stomach rumbles, and I take this as my signal to take a break and help calm my agent down. No one notices me taking off my headphones and leaving the booth until I’m standing in the room, listening to Reigns and Eli bicker.
I lean a hip against the soundboard until everyone’s eyes fall on me. I plaster on a bright smile and look at Reigns. “Mind if I take a break? I’m getting a little hungry, and I think my agent needs a minute.”
Reigns nods. “Yeah, I could use a minute myself.” He stands up and stretches. “Alright, people, you heard Callie. Let’s take a break for dinner. Everyone be back in thirty.”
“Thanks, Reigns.”
He gives me a tentative smile. “No problem.” He looks back at Eli, who is glowering at him, before leaning in and whispering into my ear, “He’s intense.”
I cover my smile with my fist and nod. “He’s new to music.”
“Gotcha. Catering is in the conference room.” Reigns pats my shoulder before leaving the booth.
Eli’s gaze narrows in on the friendly gesture, like the way it did earlier when my back up dancer Josh placed his hand on the small of my back.
His stormy eyes flicker with a covetous heat directed at me. A flutter zips through me. Eli isn’t looking at me like an agent would. No, this is the look of an overprotective, bordering-on-jealous boyfriend.
Am I reading into this too much?Maybe.
But when my eyes met Eli’s from across the room earlier at rehearsals, I could almost imagine him stomping over and ripping Josh’s hand off me. Usually, Josh’s touch is harmless, but this time was different. For some odd reason, I didn’t like him laying his hand on me in front of Eli. I immediately, and as kindly as I could, stepped away. I don’t want Eli to think something is going on with Josh.
That will never happen. Ever.
Josh lost any chance at something with me when he slept with the Devil. Josh thinks I don’t know, but I do. Silla is a gloater. Aside from Hudson and Eli, there isn’t a guy in my life she hasn’t slept with or paid off. She’s twisted in ways I don’t understand or want to know. It’s sad, but there is no love lost between us; too much has happened.
Once everyone has left, I turn to Eli and can see the riotous storm brewing in his eyes.
“So, what was all that about?” I ask.
