Page 45 of Score
“What’s wrong?” she asks, spreading her legs so the dress rides up even farther to reveal the enticing shadow at the apex of her thighs.
“Dammit.” I lean forward to push the talk-back button, stopping them in the middle of the bridge. “Guys, gimme five.”
Each of them looks various shades of confused and pissed.
“I know. I’m sorry,” I tell them. “Let me take care of one thing and you get an hour of studio time on me.”
Some of the anger fades from their expressions, but they still look annoyed. It’s the money, yes, but it’s also the time and effort. It’s taken them a while to find this groove and I’m disturbing it.
I grab Verity by the elbow, pull her to her feet, and walk her toward the exit.
“Wait,” she shouts, tugging away. “My backpack.”
She grabs her bag from the floor and totters on the too-high heels through the door. I don’t even spare a glance into the booth. I already know the guys are tuned into the show we’re giving them.
In the hall, I turn to her, struggling to check my irritation.
“What has gotten into you?” I demand.
“Not you, obviously,” she mumbles, wiping around her mouth where the lipstick smears, matching the ring around my dick.
“You can’t come to my job and pull this, Vee. It’s unprofessional. I know something’s been going on with you, but—”
“You don’t know shit,” she snaps, her eyes slitted and scornful. “I came here to do you a favor, make you feel good in this boring-ass session, and this is the thanks I get.”
“Should I thank you for getting me fired, because if I didn’t drag you off the floor, that’s exactly what would have happened. Hell, if those guys want to cause trouble and tell the studio owner, I still might.”
“They didn’t see anything.”
“They saw enough.” I run a hand down my face and blow out a tired breath. “Baby, what is this? It’s not like you.”
“How would you know what’s like me? After a few months, you think you know me?”
A slap across the face would have stung less.
I take her gently by the shoulders, trying to search her eyes, but she turns her head, lips pursed tightly. “Vee, I don’t know where this is coming from.”
“Well, lemme show you where it’s going,” she says, and turns away, walking quickly toward the studio exit. “I don’t need this.”
“What the hell!” I shout, walking toward the door. “Verity, come back and—”
“Monk,” Bret calls from the open door of the control room. “I can see you got shit going on, but we need to knock this out. Studio’s booked for the next group in two hours.”
“Yeah.” I nod absently. “Sorry. Coming.”
Part of me wants to tell Bret and his crew to fuck themselves, chase my girl and get to the bottom of this. Something isn’t right, but I can’t leave in the middle of the session. Whatever it is, will have to wait.
The closed door taunts me. I can’t shake the sense that it was more than a physical door Verity just slammed. That my future; our hopes are still here with me, but the girl I love is on the other side, already walking away.
TWELVE
Verity
I don’t know why I’m at Top Dog, but after the disaster with Monk in the studio, I couldn’t just go home to wait while he worked. There is no way I could sit on a couch with this electricity coursing through my body. Wind at my back, beneath my wings. On top of the world. All the clichés apply. When life is this great, alone is the last thing you want to be. I just want some fun. Ideservesome fun, and I certainly wasn’t getting it from Monk.
As soon as I walk through the door, heads swivel and eyes latch on to me. It makes me strut a little, swaying my hips and lengthening my stride.
“Hey, lady,” Shelby, the hostess, greets me. “Where’s your man tonight?”
