Page 86 of Heart of a Rebel

Eloise smiles at me in the mirror, and I turn her head to the side so I can kiss her puffy lips.

“I love you,” she whispers.

There’s no way she’ll be to the stage on time, which I should care about as her manager. But I couldn’t care less.

“I love you more.”

The set is going well considering it started ten minutes late. Something Rome was sure to give me crap about before slinging his guitar over his shoulder and walking onstage.

Can’t blame him with the number of times I’ve reamed him out for getting lost in random pussy backstage. Except that Eloise is as far from random pussy as a woman gets for me.

She’s everything. The garden of Eden. Wonderland. My destiny.

“The show started late.” A voice comes up beside me, and I turn to see two suits standing at my side. Cyrus and Mark, two of Nathan’s record label pit bulls who rarely leave their ivory tower in Los Angeles.

The fact that they’re here isn’t a great sign, but I’m not surprised. I’ve been sending Nathan to voicemail ever since his call the other day, and I haven’t figured out what my strategy is for dealing with him.

I’m not going to push Eloise into something she doesn’t want to do, and the fact that she’s finally taking ownership of her power after handing herself over to the label for the past six years seems to be the catalyst of it.

Not that Nathan’s going to let it go.

While he can’t actually fire me from being Enemy Muse’s manager, he has a lot of pull in the industry. He can make it difficult as I expand my horizons with new talent—namely Merry—and he knows it.

If he chooses to take his frustration with the band members out on me, I have no doubt he will.

“There were issues with the sound system.” I cross my arms over my chest. “You know how this equipment is outdoors.”

Cyrus and Mark might not believe it, but they nod their heads in unison with eyes fixed on the stage.

Mark is someone I’m familiar with and has been at a number of big events that involve the band. He’s around my age and a smart guy, even if he’s kind of a snake in the grass if you’re not careful. At least he’s the devil I know with his dark hair and sharp features.

Cyrus, on the other hand, I’m not very familiar with. He’s attended a couple of events over the years: the record deal signing, select charity galas, and the party when the first world tour ended. But even when he’s there, he mostly keeps his distance, and I get the impression he’s not as socially versed as he’d like everyone to think. He’s my height and build, but awkward. He doesn’t know how to hold himself. Add in his pale skin and light blond hair and there’s something about the guy that’s unnerving.

He stands near me with eyes fixed onstage, and I’m not sure what it is but the guy makes me uncomfortable. Him, and the fact that Nathan only sends him when there’s something big to deal with. His presence gives me the impression Nathan is fed up with my avoidance tactics.

“Did you get the new contract signed?” Cyrus turns to face me.

“If I did, you’d have heard.”

Cyrus maintains his cold expression, but there’s something calculating behind his eyes. “And Eloise?”

Her name in his mouth—really any of their mouths—is what makes my blood boil.

“Is doing what she deems fit.” I cut off whatever assumptions he might have about her falling in line.

Although I haven’t talked to her about extending the contract with the label, she has brought up her speech at the gala with me, and indicated she wants to tell her story. She wants people to know that anyone can be a victim, even Eloise Kane, and that they shouldn’t be ashamed of it.

Since there’s already a documentary crew following her around, she asked me to set up an exclusive interview where she plans on putting her full truth out there.

Fuck the label execs. If they think I’m going to stand in the way of that just because they don’t want to make waves, they’re wrong.

“Hmm,” is all Cyrus gives in return.

Mark offers even less, not so much as making eye contact. They think I don’t know that they’re planning to go to the band directly, but I’m not an idiot.

“The festival ends tomorrow, and Nathan wants to meet with the band the second they get back to LA,” Cyrus says.

With no contract in hand, they were smart to send the band back through LA at the end of the tour, booking their tickets home to Denver from there. Trapping them into a meeting before they can escape.

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