Page 28 of Holiday Hookup

“Nel, baby, you’re breaking my heart.” I would do anything to be able to hold her in my arms right now… to show her exactly how much she means to me, but right now my voice is the only thing I have.

“I-I’m s-sorry—” she whimpers, and my heart constricts.

“Baby, listen to me. I will be home as soon as I can, okay? If you want, I can fly you and Jaxon here.” I hate this idea for the sole reason of the press finding out about them, but if it makes her feel better, I’ll do it.

“We can’t. Jaxon has school starting next week and Brian’s coming over this weekend to take him so…”

I silently curse, knowing she’s right.

“We’ll figure something out, okay?”

She yawns again as the guilt washes over me again; I’m taking away her sleep.

“You’re tired, baby, why don’t you go to sleep?”

She agrees as we say goodnight, hoping I can get this shit done fast so I can get my ass back to my woman and never leave her again.

It’s been two fucking weeks and I’m still in LA, calling Nel every night, trying to make up for the fact that I’m not where either of us wants me to be. I’m not going to say it’s been easy; the phone sex has been off the charts and FaceTime has also done wonders but it’s not the same. I miss her with every fiber of my being and so last night I begged my lawyer to find something, anything for me to get out of this fucking contract once and for all. Which leads me to right now.

“There is one option I haven’t told you about yet.” Dave, my lawyer, looks at me from across the table as I stare at him with a blank expression.

“At this point I will pay any amount of money just to be rid of the label and everything that comes with it,” I mutter, looking at my phone screen which has a picture of Nel and Jaxon on Christmas.

“Well, I’m glad you said that because there is a clause that states that if you wish to break your contract, you can pay a sum of money put forth by the label and forfeit all royalties accrued after the agreement is made and you will be free to go.”

I must be in shock because there is no way it could be that easy.

“Seriously? That’s it?” I ask, wondering why we didn’t talk about this before.

“It can be. But I will tell you right now that the sum of money depends on what the label thinks you’re worth, and right now I’m going to be straight with you, it will be a lot. I’m guessing in the low tens of millions.”

My eyes bulge.

“I know you can afford that Dane, but right now I’m concentrating on trying to get that cost down as low as possible for you to continue the life you lead.”

We agree that this is the course of action we’re gonna take and he leaves, knowing that the next few days are going to be utter hell.

Just as I shut the door, there’s a knock, and when I open it I’m not prepared to see Frankie standing in my doorway, sober, asking to talk. But I let him in, needing to get everything out in the open because right now the tension between us is palpable and I hate it.

“Look, Dane. I know I’ve been an ass these last few weeks.”

I don’t say anything but lead him into the living area and sit on the couch. There’s a bottle of scotch next to me and I take it and pour myself a glass. I ask if he wants one, but when he shakes his head, I just shrug and sip mine instead.

“You might say that.”

He gives me a look as I motion for him to continue whatever the hell he was about to say.

“I know you want out and I get that.”

“Do you really? Because I honestly believe you think you get it, but you have no fucking clue what’s going on inside my head.”

“You’re right, I don’t. And it’s my fault for not asking you.”

We’re silent for a minute before his eyes meet mine and I see the question in his eyes, so I sigh, put down my drink, leaning my elbows on my knees.

“Being a lead singer sucks.”

He scoffs at the idea, but I continue.