Page 25

“Filling a stadium and then putting on a subpar show all while the press and tabloids have a field day, you mean. It’s not just a rock-and-roll image, Peter. You’re a liability, and the world sees you as such.”
A wild look entered Peter’s eyes. Music was the most important thing in his life. If Jareth took that away from him, I didn’t know what would happen.
“Jareth,” I began and then cleared my throat. “What can we do?”
“I admit you have talent, Peter,” Jareth said, ignoring me.
Peter’s eyes lit up at the compliment, but I knew better. Jareth had more to say.
“But youarereplaceable.”
Peter’s scowl returned.
“However, I have a solution that I think will benefit us all. And let me be clear, Peter, I don’t need you. You need me.”
Peter’s mouth snapped shut. At least he had enough self-preservation this morning to back off.Thank God.
Jareth pressed a button on his desk phone. “Hazel, can you please send in Ms. Darling?”
The door opened, and the woman who had been conversing with Hazel earlier strode in. Up close, she seemed even more intimidating. I’d be blind if I didn’t notice Peter’s demeanor shift. Despite his hangover, his eyes widened, his pupils dilated, and he sat up straighter. A familiar knot formed in my stomach—the same one I felt every time a beautiful woman caught Peter’s attention.
“Peter, Trissa, I’d like to introduce you to Wendy Darling. She’s a top PR consultant and will work with you to rehabilitate your image.”
I drew in a quick breath and banded an arm across my stomach. I felt like I’d been physically punched in the gut. A PR consultant? Why hadn’t Jareth discussed this with me ahead of time? I was Peter’s assistant, for crying out loud. I should have been in the loop before now. Jareth’s gaze swept over me. As much as I tried to hide it, I was sure he sensed my distress.
Peter’s reaction was far more immediate and explosive. “A PR consultant? Are you kidding me? That’s fucking ridiculous.” He stood abruptly. “I don’t need some corporate Barbie telling me how to live my life,” Peter snapped, his eyes still raking over Wendy’s figure even as he spoke.
I clenched my fists, recognizing the wild look in his eyes—a mixture of anger and interest that I’d seen far too many times before.
Wendy, to her credit, maintained her cool, professional demeanor. “Mr. Young, I assure you I’m here to help, not control you. Your career?—”
Peter cut her off, but not before flashing his trademark charming smile—even if it contained a hint of resentment—the one that made my heart ache whenever I saw it directed at someone else. “My career isfine,”Peter growled. “I don’t need your help or anyone else’s. I’m Peter-fucking-Young. I’m doingjust fine.”
“Sit, Peter.” Jareth’s sharp voice cut through the tension. “This is not a request. It’s a condition of your continued contract with VS Music Production.”
Peter reluctantly complied, still glaring. Even with his anger, he couldn’t help his gaze from darting to Wendy. Another surge of jealousy coursed through me, hot and bitter. “This is bullshit,” he muttered.
“I might agree, except you showed up to our meeting hungover, and last night, we had to pay off the individual you got into a fistfight with at a bar.”
I shook my head, wanting nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow me. This was the first I’d heard of that incident. Why the hell didn’t Peter tell me? I was always the first person he usually reached out to when he was in trouble.
My jaw clenched and strained as I fought to keep my words to myself.
Peter’s knee bounced wildly. He at least had enough presence of mind to shut up.
“Now that we have that settled,” Jareth continued, “Wendy will be working closely with both of you. Trissa, I expect you togive her your full cooperation. Share your schedules, routines, anything she needs to know.”
I nodded, still not trusting myself to speak. This whole scenario had blindsided me. It was like I was being pushed aside from Peter’s life only for Wendy to step into my place. A rational part of me knew I was being dramatic, but regardless of his current animosity, I saw how Peter had responded to Wendy before he even knew who she was.
I observed Peter’s reactions as Jareth outlined the plan for the coming weeks. Though he still bristled with anger, I could see how his body angled towards Wendy, the subtle shifts in his posture when she spoke. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion—I couldn’t look away, even though it hurt to see.
When the meeting ended, Peter stood abruptly. “This is fucking ridiculous,” he muttered and stormed out.
I shook my head and faced Jareth. “Mr. Vizier?—”
“I’m not replacing you, Trissa. Not yet, anyway.”
I drew in a startled breath. How had he known my thoughts had shifted in that direction? “No, of course?—”