Read Killing Me Softly Online

Authors: Leisl Leighton

Tags: #Romance

Killing Me Softly

BOOK: Killing Me Softly
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To my Nanna, Irene Petrie. I love you Nan and miss you heaps, but your light lives on in this redheaded girl’s imagination.

Chapter 1

Daemon Flagherty paced behind the lounge his band mates were draped on, his long legs eating up the room as he waited for the next winner to be announced. Gaze glued on the huge plasma screen TV, he clenched his fingers at his side. This was the one he’d been waiting for.

This was the one that would prove him right.

Images of the producers up for the next award – except AJ Denholm, of course –  flashed on the screen.

Poor bastards.

He was glad he’d made the decision not to be there tonight. It sucked to be in the audience trying to plaster an enigmatic smile to your face when you knew you didn’t have a hope in hell of winning against the hot favourites.

The guest celebrity, Jessica James, a movie star Craig had dated for a nanosecond, took her time opening the envelope, as she was no doubt directed. One day, some totally strung-out nominee was going to jump up and strangle the arsehole director responsible for making that moment a living hell. Daemon chuckled to himself at the thought.

Finally, Jessica looked down the barrel of the camera, a know-it-all smile all over her face as she announced, ‘And the winner for best producer is . . . AJ Denholm for Deliverance’s self-titled album,
Deliverance.

‘I knew it!’ Daemon whispered as the applause thundered through the lounge room. The screen flickered with images from Deliverance’s latest video. The music was loud and raunchy, the strings and sax masterful.

The voiceover announced, ‘The award will be accepted by Deliverance’s lead singer, Matt Franklin.’ The crowd roared as
Deliverance’s
front man leaped onto the stage.

As Matt took the glass obelisk, Daemon grabbed the remote and flicked the TV off.

‘Are you crazy? Your nomination’s next up,’ their manager Nigel said, choking on his scotch in surprise.

Craig crossed his arms and glared at Daemon. ‘He’s not crazy. Just pessimistic. He doesn’t think we’re going to win.’

‘Daemon’s right. It seems to be Deliverance’s year,’ Phil mused from his seat in the corner, drumming his fingers on his legs.

Daemon shoved black hair out of his eyes, his Irish accent thickening as he said to the band’s drummer, ‘You’re a master of understatement, Phil. They’ve won every bloody category they’ve been nominated for. You know they’re going to win best album, not us. And what’s more, they deserve it.’

‘I think you need to start taking those happy pills again, mate, because you’re bringing us all down,’ Craig drawled.

Daemon sent him a ‘ha-fucking-ha’ look. ‘I don’t need happy pills. I just need to work with AJ Denholm.’

‘Here we go again,’ Phil mumbled.

Daemon ignored him. He knew he was right about this. ‘Every album he’s mixed has been a hit. All the bands he’s worked with in the past few years have won a slew of awards. He’s gold. If we want to get back to the top, we need to have AJ mix our next album.’ His gaze skimmed over his band mates and came to rest on their manager. ‘So what are you doing about it, Nigel?’

A muscle twitched on Nigel’s lined cheek as he took a large gulp of the scotch in his hand and kicked the edge of the carpet with his scruffy cherry red Doc Martins. He might play up that lovable-ancient-rocker-been-in-the-industry-too-long schtick, but Daemon knew it was all a front. Nigel was sharp as a razor. A ruthless operator when it came to getting the best deal for his bands. The fact he’d been unable to secure AJ Denholm as their next producer made Daemon suspicious that he’d not really been trying.

The tic still twitching in his cheek, Nigel swallowed another gulp of scotch before answering Daemon. ‘You know, I have tried, Dae. AJ’s manager says no go. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do. Besides, he’s only ever worked with unknowns. Seems to be his
raison d’être
.’

Daemon began to pace again. ‘That’s crap! AJ is the best.
We
are the best – or were. Shouldn’t the best want to work with the best? And how is it you don’t even know how to contact him direct? You find stuff out, get stuff done; that’s your
raison d’être
.’

Nigel shrugged, looking down at his shoes. ‘I’m sorry, Dae. I’ve tried every card I have. Lyall has been working overtime to pull it off. In fact, he’s so overworked, he’s fallen asleep despite all the commotion.’ He nodded at the man slumped in the loveseat situated in the bay window. ‘But it’s still a no go. The manager’s a fucking brick wall.’

‘And you’re a tank.’ Daemon began pacing again. ‘You have to break the manager down. The producers we’ve worked with just don’t understand what I’m trying to accomplish.’ He paused, knowing full well that was only part of his problem. With everything that had happened in the last two years, it felt like all the creativity had been sucked out of him. He knew if he could just work with AJ, everything would be fine. He brought out brilliance in everyone he worked with. He brought heart and soul to every piece of music.

Daemon didn’t care so much about his heart – that was pretty much dead. But he needed to find his soul again. However, he wasn’t about to say that to his band mates. He swung around, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched. ‘If you want another album, you’re going to have to make it impossible for AJ to say no.’

‘That’s easier said than done.’

‘Stop making excuses!’ he spat, jabbing his finger in the air. ‘Just do your fucking job!’

‘Lay off it, Dae,’ Craig broke in, his perpetually smiling face set in a frown. ‘This isn’t like you.’

Daemon stared at his best mate for a moment. They’d been through hell and back together since they’d met seventeen years ago. They’d dreamed of music and stardom together. There was nothing they wouldn’t do for each other.

In his own way, Craig was telling him he’d gone too far. ‘I’m sorry, mate. I know I’m being an arsehole. But this is too important. I need this.
We
need this. You know I’m right.’

Craig sighed, leaned forward and rubbed his hands over his face. ‘I can’t believe I’m about to say this after I promised Billy I wouldn’t, but . . . It’s not Nigel’s fault he can’t get to AJ. She’s reclusive for a reason. A good reason.’

At Craig’s words, Daemon stopped pacing. He turned ever so slowly, intense blue eyes pinning Craig with a glare. ‘She? What do you mean “she”?’

‘AJ isn’t a bloke. She’s a woman.’

‘A woman?’ he spluttered. ‘Then why—?’ He cut himself off. Her being a woman was the least important part of what Craig just said.

‘You know her?’ Phil asked, hands no longer drumming.

‘Yes.’

‘Well, you could have at least mentioned it to me,’ Nigel said, slamming his glass down on the drinks cabinet. ‘I’ve practically broken my back, and Lyall’s, trying to make contact.’

‘Sorry.’ He threw Daemon an apologetic grin. ‘I promised Billy.’

‘I’m sure Daemon understands that,’ Phil said as he sat forward, hands pressed together. ‘A promise between brothers is sacred.’

Daemon clenched his jaw. He knew how close Craig and Billy were. But he still couldn’t believe Craig had kept this from him. ‘What does Billy have to do with it?’

Craig grimaced. ‘Pretty much everything. AJ’s real name is Alexia Jasmine Deningham. Lexi for short. She’s Billy’s best friend.’

‘You’ve got to be bloody joking.’ Daemon couldn’t have been more stunned if woman-loving Craig had suddenly announced he was gay.

Craig winced visibly. ‘In my defence, I did ask Billy when you started making noises if he thought AJ would work with us. But Nigel’s right. Billy said she wouldn’t because we’re too big. She doesn’t want that kind of exposure.’

‘Well she’s in the wrong bloody business if she doesn’t like exposure,’ Nigel muttered. ‘Besides, after these awards, the press are going to be all over her.’

Craig shrugged. ‘Not necessarily. Unless you’re Sean Puffy Combs or Kanye West or one of those flashy arseholes, the press really don’t care about producers unless they’re working with someone who makes headlines themselves – like you. There are plenty of producers who’ve won awards that nobody but those in the industry knows anything about. Lexi’s one of them – happy to stay in the background producing and writing.’

‘You’re close enough for nicknames?’ Daemon looked at him, incredulous. ‘Why didn’t you ever say you knew her?’

‘I couldn’t. As I said, Billy made me promise not to spill the beans.’

‘And that promise was more important than the band? Than our friendship?’

‘Don’t get your undies in a twist, Dae. It wasn’t just the promise. Lexi’s real private —’

‘You’re damn right about that,’ Nigel interrupted. ‘She keeps completely out of the public eye. There aren’t even any pictures of her. Nobody knows anything personal about her. I sat outside a studio she was reportedly working in a few months ago but never saw a sign of her . . . ’ He broke off, laughing. ‘But then again, I was looking for a man.’ He shook his head. ‘What a great disguise.’

Daemon picked up the phone and held it out to Craig. ‘Call Billy.’

‘You don’t understand. I can’t.’

‘Then I will.’ He began to dial the number. The phone was snatched out of his fingers by Craig. He went to grab it back but Craig danced out of his reach. ‘What are you? Five? Give me the phone.’

‘I can’t.’

Daemon’s fingers tapped a tight rhythm on his leg as he tried to rein in his temper. He wanted nothing more than to strangle his best friend for not only having kept this information to himself, but continuing to be a prick when he knew how important this was to all of them.

Thankfully though, Nigel saved him from committing manslaughter. He pushed away from the bar, his gaze narrowed on Craig. ‘If you don’t get in touch with AJ Denholm, mate, it’s not Dae you’re going to have to worry about. After the hell I’ve been through,
I’m
going to mess you up bad if you don’t call your brother. Now.’

Phil chuckled. ‘You better do it, Craig. We can’t afford for that pretty-boy face to be ruined. We’ll have a fan revolt on our hands.’

Craig turned to Phil, a bemused look on his face. ‘You’re supposed to be the quiet, nice one.’

‘Not this time. I’m with Dae on this.’

Daemon felt like yelling at them both. He didn’t see what was so funny. He’d been almost broken by his divorce two years ago, and more recently having his past raked through by his bitch of an ex-wife; he’d thought the hell would never end. He needed to work with AJ. Driven by that need, he looked at his best mate and whispered one simple word. ‘Please.’

Craig’s laughter died away and for the longest moment, goddamn him to hell, he looked like he was going to say no. But then he sighed. ‘All right. But it’s on your head if Billy kills me.’

Daemon leaned against the wall, the relief making him dizzy. ‘He won’t kill you. He’s your brother. He loves you.’

Craig huffed out a laugh. ‘That would be true for anything else, but not Lexi. He’s really protective of her.’

‘Why?’ Daemon asked.

Craig shrugged. ‘I’m not at liberty to say. But there’s a reason she’s kept out of the public eye and used a pseudonym.’

‘Are you sure she’s not a secret agent?’ Nigel snickered.

‘Fuck off,’ Craig said, the words softened with a chuckle. But then he faced Daemon with a piercing look in his eyes.

Daemon knew why Craig was giving him the eagle eye and frowned. The bastard knew him too well. But Craig was wrong. He didn’t give a damn if she was secretive – all right, maybe he did, a little, but that was nothing compared to the importance of his music.

Once upon a time, music had been fun, something he did for the love of it. Now, it was everything. And the pressure to write and produce hit after hit meant at times he felt he couldn’t breathe.

Unable to stand the way everyone was staring at him, Daemon pushed away from the wall and walked over to the bar, poured himself a scotch and downed it in one swallow before turning back. ‘I know what you’re thinking, but it doesn’t matter. I need to work with AJ, or Alexia or whatever the hell her name is. We’ve all got things we don’t want others to know. I can deal.’

Craig nodded, burying his fingers in his shaggy curls. ‘For all our sakes, I just hope she feels the same way about working with you.’

‘I swear I’ll be on my best behaviour.’

Craig sighed. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’ He held up his hand as Daemon moved towards him. ‘I can’t promise anything.’

Daemon enveloped him in a back-slapping hug. Finally something was going his way. ‘I love you man.’

‘Yeah, I know you do.’ Craig slapped him back then pulled away. ‘Only for you would I put my head in the noose.’

‘It won’t be that bad, surely? Billy may get angry at you, but he loves us,’ Phil said.

‘I just hope that’s enough,’ Craig muttered as he dialled.

Nigel clapped his hands together, waking up Lyall, who sprang to his feet with a start. ‘What is it?’ he slurred.

‘Everyone out!’ Nigel barked. ‘Craig doesn’t need us to see him grovel. But grovel good!’ He pointed a commanding finger. ‘All right, Dae. Show us out. Phil needs to get home to his wife and I need to be seen at the awards after party.’ He eyed all of them. ‘In the good old days, you would have been right there with me.’ He shook his head as he hustled Phil and a still sleepy-eyed Lyall out the door. As Daemon followed to let them out , he looked back at Craig and mouthed, ‘Thank you.’

Craig nodded and waved Daemon away as he said, ‘Hi. Billy. It’s your beloved brother. Now, don’t get mad but . . . ’

Daemon realised he’d crossed his fingers as he walked away from the lounge room and down the hall. He just hoped Craig could talk Billy around. He didn’t know what he was going to do if this didn’t work out.

He needed his music. He needed to reclaim his life.

BOOK: Killing Me Softly
6.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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