Page 31 of Gluttony (Seven Deadly Sins #4)

Definitely real and definitely happening again. Soon.

Fifteen minutes later, Orion is frowning, which I guess isn't a good sign.

“It’s not bad but it’s a bit on the fringe of what we do.” Orion hands over my ear pods and shrugs.

“This is the kind of music you listen to when you go to the beach or on a road trip with your bestie.” I have no fucking clue if that’s true, I’ve never had a bestie.

“Maybe. But the risk is high and we don’t have the manpower to take this chance.”

“I’ll do it. Please, Orion. I’ll work overtime and you won’t have to pay me.

I’ll shadow any one of your employees so I can learn the ropes.

I wanna do this. I wanna be good at this job.

Please, Orion, pleeeease!” In a last ditch effort, I bring my hands palm to palm in a steeple position and close my eyes like I’m praying as I repeat please over and over again.

Annoying, I know, but it fucking works—that little smirk is his tell—so no regrets on my part.

“Fine. But this is your project on top of your executive assistant job. No slacking off, Bowie, or else I will make that perfect little ass of yours so fucking red, you’ll only be able to sleep on your stomach while I fuck your hole from behind.

” Well, damn. Um, okay. “And forget about shadowing one of our workers.” My shoulders drop in disappointment.

How am I supposed to learn otherwise? “You’ll shadow one of us. ” Oh, even better.

“Deal.” We shake hands like we’ve just signed a contract and when I lean in and kiss his cheek, I whisper, “Although, I might fuck up just so you can spank me hard enough to make me scream.”

The hitch of his breath is everything I ever want to hear from now on.

That night, I juggle both my regular work and this project quite well, if I do say so myself. The fear that Hadley would shut me down was real but he just shrugged and said, “Give them a call and tell them we have an opening for a meeting on Saturday. Pick the time, I’ll be there.”

Not wasting a second in case either one of them change their minds, I do exactly that and by the end of the work day, I’ve got a meeting set up at the studio with Slumlord and Hadley and excitement rolling off of me like water.

I spend the entire day of Friday making sure my work is done to perfection so that Orion cannot counter that I slacked off in order to work on my new project. Although, from what Drew hinted during our lunch hour, he’s excited for me to see this through.

By the time Saturday rolls around, I’ve got an entire army of butterflies fighting dragons in my belly.

The band isn’t local to Manhattan, but they’re from Maryland and dropped everything to make it to our meeting.

Hadley decided mid afternoon would be best so we could spend the morning looking over the production side of the business and avoid saying shit to the band that makes no sense.

In the last month—essentially starting my first day—I’ve been paying attention to my job and the business.

I like it. I mean, I really fucking enjoy working here, and on a broader scope, the production industry.

Sure, I’m only an executive assistant getting coffee and lunches and dry cleaning but I’ve been watching and asking questions. Okay, yes, I’ve also been snooping.

With help from Crosby and Ginny—sometimes even Drew—I’ve been looking at contracts and the process of signing a new client. Totally off the books, of course, but when Ginny types up a standard contract, she often explains the general gist of it.

Obviously, our interests don’t always align with the interests of the artists, but Ginny says that H2O doesn't actively try to screw its musicians and always accepts negotiations.

The big sticking point is often on royalties and unions advising the artists to aim for a payment of one hundred percent of all sales.

Like I said, it’s all about negotiations and I can’t wait to see Hadley’s work.

“Look, this morning, I’m going to show you the ropes, the way the music is recorded, the whole vibe that goes with it.

This afternoon, it’s a completely different scene.

Everything is great until we start talking money.

” I nod at Hadley’s words as I watch the perpendicular streets pass by faster than usual.

“We want our artists happy, for sure, but we also need to make enough money to stay relevant.”

It makes sense, and it takes me back to so many artists who fought the big corporate machine made up of recording labels. I wonder what would have happened if they’d been signed by something like H2O? I mean, Taylor Swift is a prime example.

When we step into the studio, it feels like I’ve been transported into a time capsule.

I was expecting luxury and modern amenities but what I see in front of me now is history written in different forms. By the original flooring and the apparent brick walls with at least two dozen signed portraits or legendary artists lining them, it’s like seeing the evolution of music in one three-sixty turn.

And that’s just the entrance hall.

“Bowie, this is Benny, one of our producers. He’s the boss when it comes to recording.” Hadley winks at his employee as they shake hands and talk shop.

“And I get the pay for it.” Benny shakes my hand and I don’t miss the way Hadley steps closer to me, almost claiming me as his. All that’s missing is him pissing on me to make the moment perfect. Insert sarcasm here .

“He’s the reason I can’t buy a yacht.” Hadley slaps Benny on the shoulder, both acknowledging the joke as we make our way deeper into the building.

When we reach a larger room, it’s just couches and a bar with various instruments lying around, like an impromptu jam sesh is always a possibility.

“This is where family and friends hang out. Also a sort of waiting room for the fish bowl.” Hadley nods his chin over his shoulder, and when I lean in a bit I can see the wall of windows and the microphones coming down from the ceiling while others are standing on central poles.

The rest of the morning is much the same.

I don’t know what I expected from Hadley but this no nonsense professional is not it.

For sure, I thought he’d try to cop a feel at least five times and it’s been an impressive number of zero.

It’s like being in his element transforms him into the CEO machine that I so often see with Orion and Hayes.

I’m impressed, truly. And I won’t lie, I’m also really fucking turned on by this.

“…a few takes but we try not to make it a whole day of it. Time is money and money is time.” Focusing back on Hadley’s lessons, I nod. It all makes perfect sense.

“Okay, so…do you give some kind of priority timing to your big artists and fill in with the new ones?” My question is biased since I’m curious about Slumlord not being able to have the studio time they need until all the others have recorded their albums.

“There’s obviously a schedule but it’s more about the artist availability than it is about ours. We’re here all the time, Benny and his staff are as good at this job as I am, so there’s always a crew member here.”

“Wait, you’re open twenty-four seven?” I’m a little shocked by this revelation. I’d expect days off or something.

“Yeah, it makes sense, you know? Musicians never have regular business hours and you can’t bully creativity so we offer twenty-four hour service.”

Shit, that’s why he’s never at the offices during the day. His world is here, in this time capsule of past and present music stars.

“Is it bad that I’m impressed?” I’m a little ashamed that I underestimated his serious side when it comes to work.

“Glad you think so little of me, Little Rabbit.” His professionalism slips when he reaches up and grabs my hair, clutching it close to the back of my neck. “But don’t worry, once we go home, I promise to make it all up to you with my cock.”

I mock almost fainting by waving my hand to my face like a fan, earning a deep chuckle from Hadley.

“Hey, boss, the band’s here.” We both look at Benny and my lust for Hadley disappears while the butterflies come right back.

“Send ‘em in, B.”

We meet in the large common room, Benny behind the bar asking us what we’d like to drink. Everyone says some kind of variant of coffee, with me asking for a cappuccino ‘cause I've become bougee like that.

“‘Sup guys, I’m Hadley Beckett, this is one of our agents, Bowie Jones.” I preen at his introduction and I swear to fuck, I love the sound of that. I really fucking do.

“Hey, man, I’m Creed West, vocals and guitar.” The goofy banana smile on Creed’s face is huge and holy fuck, the man is rock star material for fucking sure. It’s going to be easy peasy promoting this group.

“Nice to meet you.” We shake hands and I’m pretty sure Hadley’s making some kind of weird noise beside me.

When I turn to look at him, his eyes are fixed on where Creed and I are joined by our palms. The whole thing took three seconds but considering Hadley’s reaction it may as well have been three hours.

Creed, of course, is completely oblivious to this because he’s got stars in his eyes and hope in his heart.

“This here is Lennox, he’s drums. Over there is Gunner, lead guitar, and this is our youngest member and my little brother, Eddy.” We all shake hands and sit down as Benny brings us our drinks.

“It’s funny, all your names sound like…” I’m interrupted by laughter; the guys clearly know where I’m going with this.

“Yeah, well, Creed and I had nineties parents, so obviously Creed and Eddie for Vedder of Pearl Jam. We’re surprised they didn’t name us after the Grateful Dead.” We chuckle and I’m suddenly ashamed that I’ve never listened to the Dead, not really my style.

“Gunner is actually his last name, first name’s Leo, and Lennox changed his because Lenny wasn’t sexy enough; his words.” At that, we do laugh because he’s not wrong.

“Sorry I’m late, traffic was a bitch!” We all turn at the sing-song voice that interrupts the casual conversation.

“There she is! Sorry guys, this is Zahra. She’s our—”

Like a fangirl, I interrupt Creed and finish his sentence for him. “The violinist. Oh my God, you’re the reason I chose this group!” Fuck, maybe I wasn’t supposed to say that. I’m sure the label needs to be more standoffish than that. Well, good thing I’m just an executive assistant.

“Shit, maybe we should give them a moment in private?” Eddie cracks up beside me but I’m too busy shaking Zahra’s hand to care. The contrast between our clasped hands fascinates me. Hers is as dark as mine is pale.

“Wow, thank you!” She does a little curtsy and I can tell right away that she probably adds a lot to the live shows if her bright wardrobe says anything.

For the next two hours, we talk shop, recording times, royalties, and scheduling.

We show them around and, I’m not going to lie, I think these guys would be a great fit with H2O.

In fact, when they walk into the studio and give a bit of a jam session, we see that they’re a live band through and through, and that’s money in the damn bag, as per Hadley.

“You did good, Little Rabbit. Real fucking good.” These are Hadley’s words as we get home that evening to Orion and Hayes, who are just getting back from a run, sweat and heaving breaths all over the place.

“How’d it go?” Orion is the first to speak but I see Hayes watching his twin intently.

“She nailed it. Slumlord is going to sign and they’re going to fucking rake in the cash, brothers.” I preen at his high praises. “Unless I fucking kill the lead singer, then all bets are off.”