Page 16 of Filthy Sweet

Considering our conversation in the car, I don’t expect Owen to chat much. But then Mare starts telling him about the new album, which is inspired by the landscapes around Seattle, and he starts talking about his new job.

I lean back on a couch, listening. It’s fascinating. Owen is clearly drawing on deep wells of knowledge. One of the things that struck me about Mare’s songs in the first place was the lyrics. She combines this classic Seattle grunge sound with dreamy keyboard pop, and she’s always singing about nature, science, stuff you don’t normally hear in pop music.

Listening to the two of them talk about wolves howling and alpine flowers, I feel almost like I’m listening to a song.

We hang out for a while, long enough to eat some waffles and for me to hear the new tracks, which Owen loves as much as I do. The band is so chill, Owen actually seems to relax, and I’m sure they’d be happy if we hung out all day. But I also know Mare works best when she’s focused and alone with the band, so before too long, I call it an afternoon.

“Those songs are amazing,” Owen tells me on the way out. “They’re going to be huge.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “I think so, too.”

I push the door to the outside open, then run straight into Decker, who is dressed in a full gray suit, despite it being Sunday.

He grunts at me. “If it isn’t the man of the hour.”

I adjust my sunglasses. “It will blow over.”

He stares at me, not blinking. “I told you—it’s time to keep a low profile.”

“It’s just a photo.”

“It’s just the reputation of the label. The bands are supposed to be in the headlines, Fox. Not the A&R reps.” He nods to Owen. “Good morning.” Then, a second later, he seems to recognize him. “Fuck.”

“This is my friend, Owen,” I say coolly.

“Hi?” Owen adds, like it’s a question.

Decker pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fucking hell.” He glances between us. “Are you two dating? What is this?”

“We’re not dating,” Owen says quickly. “We barely—”

“It’s none of your business,” I interrupt, then hold Decker’s eye, “who I date.”

Decker purses his mouth tight, clearly frustrated with me. “Fine.” He walks toward the door, then stops and turns abruptly.

“Sorry,” I grumble to Owen.

“You don’t want to tell me your business?” Decker says. “Then do me a favor. Find a cover story. A total stranger. A friend.” He gestures to Owen. “The guy with the dildo here.”

“Hey,” Owen says softly.

“Hey,” I add with a growl.

“I don’t care!” Decker continues. “Just find someone nice and normal and make a few professional appearances, smooth your reputation over. Please. For the sake of my remaining hair, get yourself a chaperone, and stop adding shit to my plate.”

Before I can say anything else, Decker storms away and slams the studio door behind him.

Chapter Six

Owen

“You have to do it,”Reggie urges me. “You have to pretend to be Fox’s boyfriend. It’s too good.”

The three of us are sitting in a booth at the diner, plates of breakfast food scattered on the table between us. Reggie’s in his gym clothes, and I’m dressed for my first day of work, my tie thrown over my shoulder and a napkin tucked into my collared shirt to protect it from stray veggie omelet. In contrast, Fox relaxes across from me and my brother, an arm slung across the back of the seat as he sips coffee, still up after a long night of concerts.

“I don’t know,” I say hesitatingly, not looking at Fox. “I don’t think anyone would believe that.”

Reggie scoffs. “You could totally pull it off. You just have to let Fox dress you.”

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