Page 63 of Filthy Sweet

“Trey got caught,” he says carefully. “That’s good, right? You don’t have to worry about him anymore?”

“Maybe. If his secrets are out, it also means I don’t have any leverage over him.”

“Am I interrupting?”

Owen and I turn to see Aya standing there. She’s dressed down in jeans and a flowy white shirt, her hair pinned back. Instantly, I tense again, going straight back into work mode.

“Not at all,” I answer and nod to the open chair. “You remember Owen.”

Owen composes himself and gives her a big smile. “Good to see you again.”

Aya gives a nod to a waiter and joins us. “Owen, of course. You’re both enjoying your stay?”

“It’s very generous of you,” I answer.

Aya smiles kindly. “I wanted you to see what kind of resources we have available.” The waiter approaches with a bottle of sparkling wine and begins to serve it to us after Aya approves with a slight nod. “Give you a taste of doing business with me.”

“Is that so?”

Owen gives me a hopeful smile, probably assuming this is good news, although I’m way too skeptical, and I keep my face still, unmoved.

Nothing comes this easy, not in the music industry and especially not in my fucked-up life.

Aya laughs warmly. “I’ve always heard you don’t like small talk. Fine. Phoenix Sunset. I’d like to do a video with them after the tour.”

I swirl the wine in my glass. “All this for a little old music video?”

To her credit, her smile doesn’t slip. “Something more commercial, hopefully,” she continues. “I see what you’ve done with this new album, returning them to their roots. It’s smart. But you should start shooting for hit singles again, and my team is ready to work.”

I lean back. “Hit singles. Isn’t that interesting. I take it you have a proposal?”

“Something like it.”

“Send it over,” I say, then turn to Owen with a smile. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve promised my man here a vacation.”

“Of course.” Aya smiles politely and stands. “I should get back to work.”

Once she’s gone, I let out a deep breath. “Damn it,” I say, then gulp the sweet, sparkling wine. “This day is fucking relentless.”

Owen laughs. “Thatwas bad news, too? I thought the whole point of coming out here was to get your bands hit music videos.”

I frown. “It was.”

“And she’s the woman you wanted to do that with?”

“That’s right.”

“Fox, you’re really losing me here.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. It seems too fast. I don’t trust it.”

Owen pushes his foot against mine under the table. “Maybe you’re just thrown off?” he asks gently. “About Reggie and being back in California.”

My heart softens. I try to throw my walls back up, remind myself that this industry is cut-throat, but maybe Owen is right. Maybe this is just a good break for me and the bands, and maybe Reggie will be chill with everything, and I’ll actually get to have what I want.

Or maybe I’m just another damn Wilder, fooling myself into thinking I’m good when I’m nothing but a burning pile of trash.

Hard to say.

---