Page 8 of Ethan
She lets out a giggle and looks me in the eyes. There’s tears building up there. Waiting to burst out and run down her soft, smooth cheek. “I’m anything but perfect, Ethan. But it’s nice of you to say that. Nice of you to see me that way.”
“Ain’t no other way to see you, honey,” I purr, edging towards her on the couch and wrapping my arm around her shoulder.
She doesn’t look me in the face. Instead, she takes a big gulp of her drink and puts it down on the coffee table in front of us. “Talking of mistakes,” she says. “I think this thing… whatever it is that happening between us… I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“You don’t?”
“For a second, I did. I let myself get carried away in the moment. You’re a very attractive man, Ethan. I’m sure you know that. I’m sure you know exactly what kind of effect you have on women. Especially young women who are just trying to make it in the music industry.”
“It’s not like that, Sydney.” I push a strand of hair behind her ear and kiss her cheek.
She stands up, crossing her arms over her large, round breasts. “I’m here as your assistant. I’m getting paid to assist you. Not kiss you. Not throw myself at you. Spread my legs open and let you fuck my brains out. Tomorrow, I’ll go home, and I’ll go back to working for Gunther, and my birthday will be over, and we’ll never see each other again, and even though every cell in my body is telling me otherwise, I think it’s best if we kept things professional. I don’t want to get a reputation.”
“A reputation?” I stutter. “Your birthday?”
I stand up and take her hands in mine. “You mean, that asshole Gunther has you working like this on your birthday? Running off at a moment's notice, and ruining your plans?”
Anger floods through me. I’ve been looking for a reason to fire that jerk-off for ages. This is the final straw.
“Plans,” she scoffs. “I didn't have any plans. Besides, I knew what I signed up for. I’m paying my dues. I want to work in this industry. I want to be a songwriter... producer. And if I have to spend a few years being bossed around while I learn how things work, then that’s fine by me. I just don’t want things to get complicated. I don’t want to be one of those girls who sleeps her way to the top. That’s not how my momma raised me.”
It takes a few minutes for me to digest everything she’s said. But I can tell she’s made her mind up. “You want to be a songwriter?” I ask. “For real?”
“It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” she says, “ever since I was a kid.”
“I have an idea,” I say, grabbing her wrist and pulling her through my apartment.
She doesn’t resist. And when I unlock the door to my music room and turn on the lights her jaw literally drops.
“How about you play me something?” I say.
She runs her hand across the lid of the vintage Steinway & Sons piano. “No,” she says, her voice soft and dreamy. “I couldn’t.”
“Sure you can.” I step behind her and lift the lid. The white and black keys gleam in the dimmed lights. I pull back the stool and guide her to a sitting position.
She looks up at me. I nod back, urging her on.
When she plays the first few notes, I sit down on a beanbag in the corner. Her hair falls down over her face.
She fingers the keys gently. Her wrists dancing above the notes. And then her voice joins in with the melody…
I swear, I’ve never heard anything so beautiful.
Closing my eyes, I let myself be carried away with the music. The raw emotion. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. My chest swells and tears build up in my eyes.
When she finishes, she turns towards me. An expectant look on her face. Waiting for my approval.
I get up and kneel down before her. I kiss the back of her hand and look into her eyes. “Sydney, baby... you’re one in a billion.”
7
Sydney
“You really mean that?”I ask. “You liked it?”
“Honey,” he growls. “You’re as talented as you are beautiful. I’ve never wanted someone so much in all my life.”
“But…” I say, fighting to hold on to my last tiny bit of self-control. “We shouldn’t be doing this. I want to make it on my own… I don’t want to succeed just by sleeping with you.”
