Played (Elite PR) (8 page)

Miranda looked at her then, in a way that wasn’t familiar. She looked…dare she say,
pleased
? “I think we want him. But who could take him on? That’s the real question.”

Mel swallowed the growing lump in her throat. It was do or die time. “I want this client, Miranda. I want to take the lead on the campaign.”

The Weasel snickered.

Shit, the Ice Queen wasn’t saying anything. Not a good sign. Time to backpedal. She would not screw this up for Aaron, so as much as it pained her to do it, Mel pretended to consult her notes and said, “Or, this client could be great for Emily’s team.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Miranda studied her phone. “Emily is preoccupied with Coca-Cola this fall.”

“Okay,” she said, moving on to second best. “Mindy’s team would also be a good fit.”

“No.” Miranda said simply, offering no explanation as she shot that one down.

Pack up the bags, loser. It’s time to go home.

Mel racked her brain. What other team could handle this? Who had the room in their schedule and was senior enough to take on a soon-to-be star? Nobody came to mind. She felt her eyes begin to fill. She was really hoping her pitch would put her back on the right track with Miranda.

Up on the screen, Aaron’s face was frozen at the end of the video—him, and his shy smile that broke her heart. If Elite wouldn’t take him on, what about another firm? Maybe Genn and her team of Neanderthals would sign Aaron. After all he’d been through, and all that he did for her, she wasn’t going to leave him hanging. But Miranda answered those buzzing questions before she could.

“I was thinking
you
could take this one,” she said, as if it were her own idea.

“Me?” Mel grabbed the chair afraid she’d drop on the spot. Hell yes, she’d play along. “I can do that. I already have a file going with ideas and have made initial calls. I’m ready to move on this whenever you are.”

Was this really happening?

She almost dropped to her knees and offered up The Weasel as human sacrifice to the PR gods. She felt like she was being heard, for the first time in her career. And not because she was endorsing a colleague or cheering on her team. This was all her…and Tiffany. And Mel was going to be deserving of this leap of faith her boss was making with her, no matter how hard it was.

“Bring me the complete plan tomorrow, and we’ll see whether or not I’ve made a mistake.”

“Yes, ma’am. And…I’d like Tiffany on my team. She was instrumental in assisting with this presentation today.”

“Fine, fine.” Miranda left the room without any further discussion.

As soon as the door closed, Tiffany squealed, and most of the eyes in the room rolled in response. The girl was a squealer. Mel couldn’t hold that against her. Plus, she felt like doing exactly the same thing.

“Nice work, Mel,” Em said, and soon there was a crowd gathering around her just like the old days. And though a part of her wanted to tell the group they could take their fake complements and choke on them, she decided on the high road and opted for
thank you
instead.

That was different. What did they call this type of interacting? Oh yeah, adulting. Who knew it could feel so good? Still, she wasn’t ready to go patting herself on the back just yet. Before she did one lick of work on Aaron’s launch plan, she was going to have some words with her tight-lipped cowboy.

Chapter Nine

A
aron held his breath as he heard the clip-clap of shoes on the stairwell. In less than forty-eight hours, he’d memorized the rhythm of her walk. Mel’s quick steps interrupted his train of thought, and he braced for the worst when she walked through the door.

He wasn’t pleased with her earlier request. That’s how she phrased it,
a simple
request
, the she-devil. The way he saw it, she was forcing him to perform like a trained seal, begging for a spot in their circus act. No thanks.

The worst of it was he’d been edgy all day, worried they wouldn’t like his music. The goddamn suits, who didn’t know him from Adam. Why did he care? Why did he put himself through the hassle?

It was Mel, that’s why. The woman had a way about her that had him reverting to a school boy—nodding and sayin’
yes, ma’am
to whatever she asked of him
.
Then there was Graham, and that kid never asked for a thing, never was bitter for the shitty hand he’d been dealt in life. And Aaron had the chance to make things better for him, with the help of some extra cash. He had to make this work, and if that meant going back to Nashville, well…

He didn’t have to finish that thought, because that little blond darlin’ had a smile on her face the size of his home state. He stood there waiting for her to say something. Anything. But she breezed by him, filling his head with the spicy, floral scent that almost made him forget about PR firms, and launch parties, and annoying managers.

Almost.

“So, Mr. Major, you didn’t think to mention that this isn’t your first rodeo?” She plopped on the couch and began unbuckling her sandals, which—on Mel—were just as sexy as five-inch heels. Damn her.

Yep, he’d known this was coming, but what was he supposed to do? Tell her his life story, the epic failure that it was, because she was going to plan a party for him? He winced thinking the words. Her job was more than that and he knew it. But he didn’t need her going on about his botched career. He did enough of that on his own. So did Rita for that matter.

“You never asked.” He sat on the couch next to her, easing her legs over his to help her with her shoes. It was too damn distracting watching
her
do it. And he’d been aching to get his hands on her again. “And really, how is it you didn’t know, anyway?”

“I was in high school when you made it big, and was a little more interested in my college plans than what was going on in the country music scene.”

“Don’t you mean you were more interested in your boyfriend’s college plans?” There he went again. It was almost impossible to keep on his good behavior with this woman. And that kind of lashing out…well, that was just him deflecting. He needed to keep some kind of distance between them, and his asshole behavior was definitely one way.

“Careful, cowboy.” She pulled her legs off his lap and rubbed her own feet. “You’re sounding very close to the twat-waffle you used to be, and I’m this close,” she held up her thumb and forefinger, “to closing your deal, with a delay in billing, mind you, based on the pitch that you’ve been
reborn
.”

“Come again?” He scratched his head, unable to keep up, and he swore her eyes danced in delight.

“That’s right,” she stood up and wiggled her butt in a victory dance, which put him in the mood for his own version of celebration. “Miranda wants me to lead your cause.
If
I can sell her on the plan tomorrow.”

“Your pitch worked?” He watched her glowing with pride, and it was a beautiful sight, especially after she’d been so broken the night before. So why was he worried? Her fire was back.

“It worked,” she echoed, dancing her way into the kitchen.

“And they weren’t freaked out about my crash and burn the first time out?” he called to her, thankful he didn’t have to see her face when she answered. He hated thinking about what they said about him—all the judgment, deciding if he was good enough. It reminded him too much of his childhood, always trying to win the affection of his mama. And nothing was ever good enough to hold her attention for long.

“Sure they were, until I got hold of them…and they heard you sing.” Now that was something he’d like to see. Mel and her hot temper coming to his defense. Shoot, he liked the idea of her in his corner. For professional reasons only…at least, that was what he was desperately trying to believe.

His refrigerator door opened and Mel shuffled around. She must be fixing something to eat. Food. Yes, that’s exactly what he needed right now. He’d been so worried all day, he didn’t realize how hungry he was, so he peeled himself off the couch and joined her.

“Point is…” She began pulling out lunchmeat and cheese and the few vegetables he had in the crisper. “If I’m going to do this, you have to tell me everything I need to know about the new Aaron Major. I could’ve made a fool out of myself if I didn’t have that information before the meeting.”

“But you did.” He sidled up to her at the counter.

“Right, I did. Thanks to Tiffany the Intern. How does a sub sandwich sound?” She nudged him with her hip so he’d move down to give her some room.

Aaron pulled out the plates, bread, and a knife, and helped her stack the subs. “I’m sorry. I really am. It’s just that I don’t like talking about that time in my life. And honestly, I didn’t think about giving you the heads up. You bolted out of here so fast, and when we talked on the phone, I was more anxious about Rita calling your boss.”

Mel went rigid at the mention of his manager’s name, which had him believing she might be an issue. What else was new? Rita most likely considered Mel a threat. She was used to being queen bee, because there’d never really been a female presence in his life. Rita liked it that way. And though he wanted to shake it off and assume her intentions were strictly professional, he wondered if it was more than that. Maybe there was some grain of truth to the words she’d once blurted in a drunken stupor long ago—when she confessed she was in love with him. She was completely shitfaced when she’d said it, which was why he never brought it up again. He had to admit, the possibility of her having feelings for him had given him pause before he contacted her about the new album. But hell, they had to be past it all at this point, right?

In the end, it didn’t matter. He believed that it was better to go with the devil you know, and he knew what to expect with Rita. Anyone else would’ve been a crapshoot, and he couldn’t handle the uncertainty this time around.

“You were anxious because you didn’t think I could do it, right?” He caught a quick glimpse of the woman he tucked in bed last night, before she lifted her chin and busied herself with the sandwiches. He didn’t like it one damn bit.

“Hey now.” He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. “Don’t do that. This is all new to me. Well, the ‘reborn’ part, anyway. I’m going to be a little on edge from time to time. You should know that about me if we’re going to be working together.”

“Okay.” She visibly relaxed, and he realized he must’ve said something right. He wished he knew what it was. “Good to know. But your manager…”

Here we go.

“Do you think she was deliberately trying to blindside me?” Mel reached across Aaron’s midsection to grab the mustard, and her scent made it hard for him to focus. He’d never get sick of the way she smelled. “You like?” she asked, holding up the mustard.

He nodded—for two reasons—then held up the jar of mayo in a silent question. She made a gagging motion. Okay, so no mayo for the belle.

“I’m not sure if she did it deliberately.” He topped off the sandwiches and dumped a pile of chips on each plate. “I can tell you that she’s not used to playing with others. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

“It’s not a big deal, but I’d like to know what I’m up against.” She picked up her plate and ripped a few paper towels off the roll. “So what are the rules around here? Are we allowed to eat in the living room on really hard work days?”

“Hard days, easy days, doesn’t matter. Mel, the only thing you need to know is that there are no rules.” For her anyway. For him? There were a shitload. He cradled two water bottles in his arm before picking up his own plate.

“Sofa picnic, then?” She grinned.

“You’ve got it.” Leave it to Mel to have a cute name for plunking their lazy asses down to eat dinner in front of the shiny box. Whatever. He was a fan of the sofa picnic.

But then, when he was good and full and content, she ruined his good mood. “Okay, now it’s time to spill your guts, Major.”

Awesome. That sounded about as fun as shoveling cow manure.

Being coy wasn’t going to get him off the hook this time, but why give more than she needed? “What do you need to know?” Yep, they’d take it nice and slow—question by question.

“Birthday,” she said and an iPad miraculously appeared in her hands. This was her plan all along—ply him with food and steal all his dirty secrets.

“November fifteenth.”

“Year?”

“1982.”

“Where were you born?” She tapped away on her tablet.

“Amarillo, Texas,” he said, bored of his own story already. “You know, I have a bio where you can get all of this stuff.”

“I know.” She grinned. “But I’m hoping as we talk you’ll give me the good stuff. The extra stuff that’s not already on Wikipedia. How about your family?”

“My mama was a country music singer, which I’m sure you’ve read about.” He spit it out as fast as he could, like tearing off a Band-Aid. “My daddy was a working man, a carpenter, which I’m sure you didn’t. He wasn’t in the press much. He died when I was twelve. He was the best person I ever knew. And then there’s my brother, Graham.”

“I’m sorry about your daddy,” she said, and he knew it was genuine. She was just trying to do a good job. “That must’ve been so hard for you and your brother. Where is he now?”

“Finishing up high school.” Christ, the words hit him straight in the gut. How could that be already? He’d never tell his brother this, but he still saw him as that freckle-faced little kid with the goofy smile.

“You’re close,” she said, and he realized he was mugging a ridiculous grin of his own.

“Yeah, we’re close. It’s just the two of us now.”

“Where’s your mama?”

“Who knows? Once I got Graham into boarding school on the East Coast, she took off somewhere. We haven’t seen her since. Graham stays with me over holidays and breaks.”

Mel nodded and looked down at her notes. This was why he hated talking about shit. That look of pity. He didn’t want or need anyone feeling sorry for him or thinking he was weak.

“Any exes I should be aware of?”

“Not really.” How should he position this? He’d had plenty of women in his bed, but nothing serious. That was by design.

“So you’ve never been in love?” She was no longer going off her script. This was getting personal and it needed to stop. He hated dredging up the past, when he’d worked so hard to get beyond it. But he told Mel he’d be straight with her. She deserved it.

“There’s only room for the music,” he told her. “This business—the music thing inside me—is bigger than anything, anyone. Add in the money and fame, the people hanging on your every word and the women willing to do anything to be with you and it changes who you are. It changed me. I could never bring anyone else into that. So, no, I’ve never been in love”

“And now how do you feel about all that pressure?” she asked.

“Now? Hell, I’m probably risking my sanity again, just by trying to go back to music. But last year when I was about as low as I could go—depressed and miserable—I thought maybe, if I could keep the touring to a minimum and stay here, I could avoid the lifestyle. Still, it’s no world to raise a family in.”

“You’ve made your choice?” she asked, treading lightly for reasons he wasn’t quite sure of. It wasn’t like she was looking for something from him. She had her pick of men, one ready for her to come home. But if he didn’t know better, he’d say she was disappointed. “You’re officially off the market?”

“Yes, I guess if you put it that way. I’ve made my choice. Actually, I’ve set up rules to help me stay the course. No band, because they’re trouble, full of drama, bad influences, and temptations, with little control. No Nashville, for the same reasons. And no extra distractions—like booze, drugs, relationships.”

She was quiet for a long time before she looked at him and said, “That’s pretty sad, that you lump love in with booze and drugs.”

“Sad,” he agreed. “But for me, I think one is as dangerous as the others.”

So much for one easy question at a time. Still, he wondered how the hell she did it—got him talking and sharing all this junk from the past. This was the exact thing he’d been trying to avoid.

M
el hadn’t even thought about what she was going to wear to work the next morning. Thankfully, Aaron had. Apparently he had a little chat with Cole while she was at the office, and miraculously, a bag of clothes from the storage unit arrived on his doorstep. 

She was able to pull an outfit together, undergarments and all, though it pissed her off beyond belief knowing that Cole had sifted through her unmentionables.

Mel finished her presentation in the office the next morning in record time, after about two pots of coffee, and was sure it was a winner. That, or sleep deprivation was diluting her judgment. She was up with Aaron until three a.m., badgering him with questions, because Lord knew he didn’t offer up any information on his own. Stubborn wasn’t even the word for it.

She had about an hour before her meeting with Miranda and needed one more set of eyes on the thing just to be sure, so she gave her new friend Genn a call.

“I did what you said.” Mel thanked Genn for her suggestions with the Miranda situation, but quickly segued into the part where she desperately needed some of her help.

“Refresh my memory,” Genn said. “We were a little lit up on Tuesday night. What did I tell you to do?”

Mel went through the play-by-play of what had happened over the past forty-eight hours, leaving out a few of the good parts that she wasn’t ready to share yet. Genn was the perfect audience, cheering and gasping in all the right places. “Wow, I’m so impressed right now I’m practically speechless. When do you go in to see Miranda?”