Page 6

“Take it easy!” He laughed, but he was starting to sweat. He had a front row seat to how the cords in my forearms flexed. “You're a busy man, Bach. I thought Violet would handle it.”

“And when you signed with us, did you do it throughViolet?”

His lips pulled into a sickening smile. “I remember shaking hands with your father. Not you. In fact, I think I remember you were on some bender in Vegas. Or maybe you were serving jail time. My memory isn’t always so good.”

Ignoring his bait, I said, “You'd never have done this to my father.”

“Bach, this isn't personal. It's business.”

“Business.” I spit the word out, leaning ever closer. “My father made you famous and this is how you thank him?”

“Is running this place into the ground howyouthankhim?”

My fist came around so fast that I almost couldn't stop myself. I redirected the energy; instead of punching him in the nose, I gathered up the front of his shirt. His arrogance melted into terror.

“Bach!” Violet—the wise woman that she was—had followed me. Reaching around my middle, she tried pulling me backwards. “Bach, calm down! This isn't helping!”

She was right, of course. But Santino's words had cut me deeper than any insult ever could. I was seeing red—and all because he wasright.

Violet lowered her voice. “Bach, please.”

When I released him, my fingers throbbed from the tension. I flexed them, then gently eased Violet off of me. My hot gaze never strayed from the other man. “Finish your paperwork and get the hell out of here. We don't need musicians who can't commit representing us.”

He was breathing heavy; his knuckles were stained black. He'd gripped the pen so hard that it had broken, ink splattering on his skin. “You're lucky I don't sue you,” he said.

“You're lucky your contract allows you to cut and run with no penalties,” Violet spat back. “Laurence Devine didn't believe in that kind of thing. He trusted the people he brought into this company. Thought they had integrity. Pride.”

Her implication that Santino didn't have those qualities made him bristle. “People have their reasons.”

“Money,” I chuckled darkly. “It's always money.”

“At least Eckland's label has some to throw around.”

I bit my tongue. Danny Eckland had been one of my father's rivals. Never quite as good as Beats and Blast, but... if I kept losing my musicians like this...

Looking away, Santino bent over the desk. Farrah offered him a wet-wipe, then a new pen. Her crystal-blue eyes fixed on me, as if I'd yell at her for helping. That look unsettled me; I put on a fake smile, mouthing, “It's okay.”

It was one thing to direct my fury at someone who'd wronged me, it was another to let others get caught in the crossfire. Suddenly aware of my swim trunks and bare feet, I walked out of the room at a quick pace.

Violet was on my heels, her shoes clicking as she struggled to keep up. “What the hell were you thinking?” she asked.

Palming my damp hair, I said nothing.

“Slow down for a second!”

I entered the nearest elevator, ignoring how the exiting women gawked at me. One of them whispered, “That was Bach Devine!” Before the doors shut, she lifted her phone, snapping a picture.

Great, another memorable photo for the internet.As if people didn't have enough reasons to talk about me. And why did so many of my photos have me mostly—or totally—naked?At least I look good. Small favors.

Violet had jumped in before the doors shut. She promptly smacked my shoulder with her purse. “Stop running and listen to me!”

“FuckingDanny Eckland?”

“Forget about Santino, I have news.”

“Great. Nothing goes better with a stiff drink thannews.”

“It's two in the afternoon, why are you—never mind.” Chasing me into my office, Violet shut the door behind us. “Just look at me so I know you're listening.”