Page 119 of Boss of Me
Laurene’s eyes narrow, and for just a moment her confidence wavers, doubt flickering across her features.
I wait tensely, arms folded.
She leans into my face. “Don’t get too smug, Marlowe the merry maid. Your expiration date is coming sooner than you think.” She tucks her handbag into the crook of her elbow, slides on her sunglasses and smirks at me. “Tick tock, bitch.”
Before I can respond, she struts past me and out the door.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
marlowe
The ugly confrontation with laurene hauntsme for the rest of the day.
No matter how hard I try to put it out of my mind, I can’t stop replaying the hateful things she said. I know she was acting out of spite and jealousy, but there was enough truth behind her words to ramp up my insecurities.
Gunnerdidask her to marry him. So he must have loved her at some point. Maybe he still does. Maybe he’s just using me as a rebound. Maybe he’ll toss me aside when he’s ready to go back to her, or when he finds someone new. She certainly wasn’t wrong about his insatiable sex drive. Given his kinky predilections, keeping him satisfied might be impossible.
These unsettling prospects depress me as I head to campus that afternoon. I muddle through my meeting with my advisor, coming off more scatterbrained than my academic record reflects. When I get to class, I remain so wrapped up in mythoughts that I barely register the whispers and stares following me to my seat.
Shortly after class starts, the professor announces that we have a surprise guest lecturer. It’s Harlan Pierce, the founder and CEO of Digitistic, a company renowned for developing a digital workstation for musicians to connect and create music.
He’s kind of a big deal around Austin. Early thirties, attractive, with expensively cut blond hair, gray eyes and a sculpted beard. He wears a dark blazer over an indie band T-shirt, ripped jeans and vintage sneakers. Something about his appearance seems a bit try-hard, like he’s merely playing the role of hipster CEO. It’s rumored that he’s not the brains behind the company, he’s the money behind the brains.
During his presentation, he discusses the economic and technological upheavals that transformed the music industry. He touts his company’s innovative business model and name-drops several Grammy-winning artists he’s worked with. He’s an engaging speaker, and despite my bad mood, he manages to hold my attention. I even get a little excited when he announces that Digitistic is recruiting interns with music backgrounds.
Once his lecture ends, I grab my backpack and join the crowd of students lining up to talk to him.
While I’m waiting my turn, a voice behind me says excitedly, “Aren’t you Gunner Ransom’s girlfriend?”
I look over my shoulder to see a tall, pretty Latina grinning at me.
“I saw pictures of you and Gunner on TMZ. Oh, my God, you are so damn lucky!” She thrusts her hand out. “Valeria.”
I shake her hand. “Marlowe.”
“Yup. That’s what the article called you, along withfresh-faced ingénueand thebillionaire’s babe.” Her grin is so infectious I find myself smiling back despite the mortified heat burning my cheeks. “So what’s Gunner like? Is he as romanticas the article made him sound? Did he really arrange a private concert for you?”
Ummm . . .
She laughs at my expression. “Don’t mind me. I’m just being nosy. Do you want to be study partners?”
I smile. “Sure.”
We exchange phone numbers and make plans to meet for lunch on Friday.
When it’s my turn to speak to Harlan Pierce, he stares at me with recognition. “Don’t I know you?”
Not again.“Um, I don’t think?—”
He snaps his fingers as if he’s trying to remember my name. “That’s right. You’re the piano girl.”
“Piano girl?” I repeat blankly.
He grins. “One of my acquaintances attended a dinner party where you played the piano. He recorded your performance and shared the video with me. You’re pretty talented.”
“Thank you.” I smile and offer my hand. “Marlowe Somerset.”
“Great to meet you, Marlowe,” he says, shaking my hand. “What’re you studying?”
