Played (Elite PR) (9 page)

“In an hour, which reminds me, do you have a few minutes to look at the presentation?”

“Of course. Send it over.”

By the time she hit send, she had three interns—Paula, Kaye, and Will—mulling around her desk. After they saw what she did for Tiffany, she’d gained quite a following. It was Team Mel all the way. She put them all to work—she could use every free bit of labor they offered.

With their help and Genn’s brilliance, Mel was ready to run into the lion’s den. She was going to make Miranda’s head spin. She’d practiced the presentation so many times she could do it in her sleep.

“It’s time,” Tiffany told her. “I’ve set up the projector in conference room three. Here’s the clicker.”

Of course, Miranda was already waiting for her. Intern Paula was following the Ice Queen all morning. Mel was not in the mood for any surprises.

Still, when she walked into room three, Miranda acted as though she was late.

Nice try, lady. There were ten minutes left on the clock.

“Melody,” her boss sang. “I don’t have all day, so let’s go already.”

“Aaron Major,” she began without apology, and flashed her clicker to the screen to open the presentation. “The voice of country today.”

She opened with the country music sales stats, popularity, and changing sound—all of which played to Aaron’s strengths. Anyone else would’ve been impressed. It was an exciting and thorough beginning.

Yet Miranda circled her finger, telling Mel to keep it moving.

“This initial phase of the plan is short and sweet: it’s all about his launch—pre and post event. We start building his brand with an online presence, get him going on social media, and create awareness in the press. Then we organize a huge record launch party at a famous spot in Atlanta with a multimedia invite to entice all the industry bigwigs. And we find two big-name artists to join Mr. Major on stage.”

Hmm, it was such a nice name. Such a nice face. She wouldn’t have any trouble getting the key players to stand up and take notice of him.

Mel went on to talk about the other plans: TV, maybe even a cameo on a drama or sitcom. Morning talk shows or late night, where he’d perform. It wouldn’t be easy, but she didn’t want easy. Where was the fun in that? And not to be forgotten: radio, music blogs, podcasts, and a few well-placed leaks of the single.

“And?” The Ice Queen was lukewarm, nodding and tapping her blood-red nails on the table.

“And some perfectly timed drama,” she added. “A budding romance with another hot up-and-comer. Or rumors of a romance. Or multiple rumors about multiple romances. Everyone loves a little outlaw in their country heroes, right? A little outlaw, but no cheating. That would have to be managed carefully.”

Mel went over the tight calendar and then, ever so subtly, slid in the budget issues.

“He doesn’t have the money for this?” Miranda actually laughed.

“It’s a structured payout, when he hits certain goals, which he is guaranteed to hit with this plan. No different than what we do with fiscal year planning for businesses.”

“But this is an expensive undertaking, Melody.” She pursed her lips in a way that made her look like her skin was going to crack at any moment. “The multimedia component alone—”

“Will be done with the help of my intern,” Mel said. “She’s amazing, dependable, has the time, and is contracted with us through the end of the summer.”

“But the media relations,” she said, ticking off the areas of the plan, one by one, trying to poke holes.

Mel was ready.

She was certain that within a month, Aaron Major would find a nice comfy spot at the top of the charts. It was like taking candy from a baby. There were only two things standing in her way: Miranda, and the current state of her cowboy. Right now he looked more like he should be working on an oil rig than melting ladies’ hearts up on stage. Not that he wasn’t gorgeous—he was. But it was hard to tell what was going on under all that hair. She considered herself damn lucky to know.

Yes, fans loved outlaw—but he best be a well-groomed one. The ladies went nuts for bedroom eyes, an all-American face, slim hips, and a hot ass covered in those tight jeans the country guys loved to wear—which, let’s face it, left nothing to the imagination.

“Okay, Melody,” she said, as if Mel was a child begging for an ice cream treat. “Let’s see what you’ve got. But your pay is going to be on that, what did you call it? Oh yes, sliding scale.”

“No problem,” she said, hoping Aaron was going to be okay with the roommate situation for a few more weeks.

“And,” Miranda stood and sauntered to the door, turning around at the threshold to throw poor, pathetic Mel a bone. “You can move back to your office for the duration of the campaign. After, we’ll talk.”

“That’s okay,” Mel said, packing up her own things. “I quite like where I am,”

At the moment, she really did.

Chapter Ten

F
or someone who didn’t want all the goddamn publicity, he sure was acting like an attention-seeking whore, pacing around the apartment waiting for the news about his new publicist. So far he’d ignored four calls from Rita.

“Sugar, I’ve been doing some research,” Rita said when he finally picked up the phone. “And I tell ya, maybe Elite isn’t the right place.”

“You said yourself that Miranda is the best.” He kept his eyes glued to the windows. This point was moot, unless Mel got him in.

“Yes, yes, she is,” Rita stuttered, almost as if Miranda Wells was listening in. “But who does she have on the account? This Melody Sharp? You’ve had a look at her, right? She’s young, fresh out of school? That’s what these big firms do sometimes—take on smaller, unknown clients, gouge them with fees, and put them at the dead bottom of priorities so the hacks can train on the job.”

He bristled at the insult to Melody, and realized this was why he couldn’t be happy for the news yesterday. Why he had to be such a downer. Rita helped make him this way, untrusting of anyone, unwilling to take a chance unless his manager orchestrated it. She pushed him down and showed him his place every damn time she had the opportunity. He fell for it. He’d let his insecurities take over and given her far too much control over him. But he wasn’t wet behind the ears anymore, and while he appreciated her skeptical nature in some circumstances, and truly believed she had his best interest at heart, he’d be making his own decisions. This was his chance. His life. And he wasn’t going to let anyone tell him how to live it, or step out of bounds, or fucking second-guess his decisions. That’s what he needed to do—keep everyone in their own damn box.

He wasn’t an idiot. Though he wouldn’t want Mel thinking he didn’t trust her, he’d done his own research. With everything on the line, he had to. Elite’s reputation was unparalleled by any other firm in the industry—even in Nashville. And Mel’s track record was much the same. She might’ve pissed off her boss, but her clients loved her. He made a few calls of his own to some people he knew with the Falcons. Once upon a time, he had friends on the team, and he’d sung the National Anthem on more than one occasion. And the front office sang Mel’s praises. So did a few artists in the music industry.

So yeah, it was time to put his manager in her own rightful place.

“I appreciate your concern, Rita. But I’ve got someone on publicity and she’ll take it from here. You just keep the lines of communication open with the label. Help me with your Nashville connection. I can handle things in Atlanta.”

“But Aaron, I don’t want you to get caught up in some girl’s spell down there.”

Right, because she wanted him to stay under hers. He had so many things he wanted to say at the moment, but he needed her. At least until his single dropped. If he could just get through the next three weeks…

“Don’t worry about that. Just take care of your side of the business. That’s what I need from you. Can you do that for me?”

“You know I can.” She perked up a little. “As a matter of fact, I’m working on something as we speak.”

“What it is?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“You’ll see,” she sang. “I’ll be in touch soon.”

Then she hung up.

Mel better have this party and promotion thing buttoned up, ’cause Rita would make him pay for this if he had to come back groveling.

He went back to the song he’d been working on. It was starting to flow, and for once he didn’t feel like he was bleeding on the page. It was almost…fun. By the time he checked the clock, a few hours had gone by. Shit, Mel should’ve been home by now.

He camped out by the back window to wait for her. It was another hour before she arrived, and when she stepped out of her car, she was dragging two bulging suitcases behind her. His stomach sank…until he realized she was bringing them in, not going away.

She did a victory fist pump when she saw him in the window. He rushed out to meet her.

“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked, taking her bags.

“Because you’re never by your phone. Isn’t that what you told Rita? Anyway, I was too busy, and I had to pick up some essentials from my storage locker.”

“Essentials, really? It feels like you have your entire apartment in here.”

“I’m sorry. I know this is an inconvenience, but you’re going to be thrilled with everything we have planned for you.”

“So I’m in?” He stopped, and she smiled.

“You’re so in,” she said, setting her bags down. “And accounting will hold off on payment until your royalties are issued. We have you on a sliding scale.”

He picked her up and spun her around. “And I’m not going to have to sell my soul to do this?”

“We’ll see,” she said jokingly, but it didn’t help his anxiety about the whole thing.

They went through the details of the meeting with Miranda over pizza and beer. So far there had been nothing unreasonable. He was no expert in PR, but Rita had shared the proposal for the label’s Nashville agency a while back, so he used that to compare the costs. The billing was really all he could go on because the rest of it was in a language he’d never understand. But if he could keep the overhead low on this project, he might actually come out of this thing cheaper than if he’d done everything in Nashville. He was relieved, happy to do the work to make this part of the launch a success.

More than anything, he trusted Mel. But now that the campaign was underway, and she was going to be staying with him for the better part of a month, there were some new problems they’d have to deal with. Like her wicked scent, which flooded his brain whenever they shared the same space. And all that creamy skin, peeking out from her shirt. He knew he liked it far more than he should.

He needed to put her in the business box, and set the boundaries just like he was doing with Rita. Still…

“When do we start?” he asked her, hoping he had some time. One last night before their official relationship was, well, official.

“Tomorrow,” she said, pulling out the paperwork. “Once you sign these.”

Perfect.

“In that case…” He pushed the papers off the table, grabbed Mel, and deposited her on top of it in one fluid move. “We have just enough time to get this in. Because, honey, I won’t be able to think straight until I have one more taste of you.”

The rise and fall of her chest made him instantly hard; he could only hope she felt just as turned on. He’d touch her like this one last time and let whatever it was between them work its way out of his system. Then it was back to business.

Careful to brace his weight, he leaned over her, tracing the shell of her ear with his tongue. “I want you, Mel. I want you bad.”

He nibbled his way down her neck, and then looked up for permission. Her parted lips and soft eyes were exactly what he was hoping for, and he wasted no time covering her mouth with his in a searing kiss. She opened to him, no questions asked. And this time, he let
her
touch. Her hands dove in his hair, held his face, slipped under his shirt. He felt her everywhere. The connection was undeniable. Their mouths melded together, their centers aligned and they moved in sync until she put her hands on his chest to stop.

He froze instantly, even though it was painful to move away from her. He’d never wanted anything—or anyone—more.

“You said the other night was just a one-time t-thing,” she stuttered, her eyelids heavy.

“I also told you I have a bad side, Mel. And this tight little body brings it right the hell out. So you tell me now if this is something you want.”

Her hands snaked around his back, and she pulled him to her. “I want.”

That’s all it took. He dragged her shirt over her head and descended straight to that tiny space between her shoulder and neck, where that Melody-scent was the strongest. He pulled the tie from her hair, fanning the impossibly soft tresses over the table. She was a picture. He nipped and sucked his way across her skin, nearly ripping the pretty lace bra off her pert breasts in the process. Her groans, and the needy little shifts she was making below her waist, said he was doing something right. It made his movements even more intense as he tweaked her pink nipples to tight peaks.

He wanted more. Sliding her skirt up around her stomach, he took a second to appreciate her matching panties before he tugged them over to the side. Damn. Feeling her last night almost did him in, but seeing her in the flesh, with all that soft skin? His entire body vibrated as he fought to hold himself back.

He pulled her to the edge of the table and slipped two fingers inside her wet heat.

“Ah,” she cried out, reminding him that he had to go slow.

“Condom,” Mel gasped. “Get a goddamn, fucking condom.”

Or not.

He adored the mouth on her, focusing on her dirty words rather than what she was really saying.

“Condom, Aaron, please.” She sat up and reached out, holding his face in her hands, so there was no mistaking the urgency.

“Fuck me,” he grunted, before slowly pumping his fingers inside her.

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” she replied, undoing the button of his pants and sliding those greedy hands inside. “Now be a good boy and find me a little foil packet that says we can be bad…for just one night.”

“I don’t have any,” he blurted, in what was sure to be a mood killer.
Stupid, stupid, stupid
. He’d had all day to prepare. Not that he was planning this, but still…what an idiot.

“No. no. no.” He watched as her expression soured. Her face was flushed, wild, gorgeous. Then she wrapped her fingers around his hard-as-steel length and stroked him from root to tip, a little rougher than he expected. He wasn’t worried; he could take anything she had to dish out. He welcomed it.

“So you’re going to punish me, is that it?” He increased the tempo of his own fingers, doing a little disciplining of his own.

“You got that right, cowboy.” Her voice was low and breathy. Sexy as hell. She touched him again, but this time, it was more of a caress as she reached the crown of his cock and glided her thumb through the bead of liquid at the tip, spreading it over him.

“So, we do this high-school style, then?” His breath grew shallow and he had to fight to get the words out.

“Mmm,” she groaned as they continued their assault on each other. “What’s that?”

“I do you,” he rasped. “And you do me.”

“Okay.” She tightened her grip and he thrust his hips into her hand. “But together. At the same time.” She offered a level of intimacy he didn’t deserve, but he took it nevertheless.

“Together,” he repeated, his hand picking up speed as she began to open a little more for him with each thrust. He was getting to know her body, learning all the good stuff. How the hell was he going to stop after tonight?

They moved, so completely responsive to each other’s touch. Though their position was a little clumsy, a bit uncomfortable. Mostly it was hot as fuck, and soon their hands worked each other into a frenzy.

He met her stroke for stroke. She was so wet, so close, but he left her teetering on the edge. She did the same…until he began to throb and she clenched around him. It only spurred them on, as if it was a contest of who could get the other off the fastest.

He won. Just barely.