“You have no idea.” She rolls her eyes and walks away.
I turn to see Tags standing there.
“You look better than I thought you would after last night.”
I look around to see if anyone else heard him. They didn’t.
“Did you hear what that bitch just said to me?” I snarl.
“Easy, sweets. Do me a favor?”
I nod.
“Keep all those ideas to yourself. She’s not buying one of them.”
“Then why am I even here?”
“I think you know why.” He gives me a millisecond wink then walks away.
After the first week, I realize he was right. Nothing I offer creatively is taken seriously. The footage I spend hours going over and picking what’s best for my artists are always discarded by the bitch. And David, well, he doesn’t even look at the work I pour myself into creating, “It’s her baby,” is always his response.
But it doesn’t stop me.
The days we aren’t in studios, Stanley and I are in front of our laptops, cutting footage of heartfelt stories of people in love. The guys joke about covering up a piece you no longer want being harder than actually getting divorced.
I learned a lot about each of them, and they no longer look at me like I’m some flighty little debutante, taking a job for a paycheck to impress Daddy. They know I’m working for them, and they are working for me.
I’m about to close my laptop, knowing Carter … Tags—I shake my head and smile when realization hits that he’s only Carter when we’re alone—when I get a notification that I have a FaceTime request from Dad. I accept it.
“You look beautiful, Little Bell, but are you sleeping at all?”
I lean in and look at myself. I have circles under my eyes.
“I’m good, Dad, just frustrated.”
“About what?”
I unleash all the anger inside of me for that bitch and her dad for not caring about the show. “And the show is about the guys, Dad, not about just the amazing work these men have done. But …” I stop because, if I tell him they’re all ex-cons, he may lose his shit.
“But your heart got involved in a game of elimination.”
He’s not wrong, but in games where hearts are involved, secrets are kept, and lies are told, it’s hard to be objective.
“What is it, Little Bell?”
I fight back the words I want to say.
“The truth.”
I miss our caring dysfunction, is what I want to say, but I go with, “I miss you guys.”
He nods once. “Not often I went a week without meeting you for dinner. Been nearly three, Little Bell. Didn’t like the way you left either. Too quick.”
“We have a break coming up. I’ll be home.”
“When?”
“As soon as this wraps.”
“Two days?” he asks.
“Holy fucking shit,” I gasp, and his eyes nearly hit his desk. “Sorry, Daddy, but two days!”
He frowns. “Yeah.”
I feel my face falling, too, but I pull it up into a smile. “I’ll see you soon then.”
“Little Bell, you know the saying what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?”
I nod.
“Do me a favor and leave the language in Vegas.”
I cover my face so he doesn’t see me laugh.
“I love you, Isabella. See you soon.”
He disconnects. He never disconnects. Something’s wrong. I feel myself begin to panic. Something is off in Jersey.
Something is … I laugh. I swore. He’s mad. He’ll get over it. We’re two days from wrapping up Vegas.
Sitting at my desk, I try to finish editing the video Stanley and I were putting together. I decided full steam ahead on my idea. It may not be used for the show, but I bet it would mean a lot to everyone in the cast.
After a few hours, I realize I forgot to eat, something Tags seemed to remind me that I needed to do these past couple weeks.
“Gotta fuel up to fuck, sweets.”
Two more nights in his arms, two more mornings waking up to his sexy self and his sensitive side. Then a week where he gets to say goodnight to the moon with his sweet little girl, and I get to spend time with my family.
I send Stanley the email of what I’ve done. It’ll have to do for now.
Two more sleeps, Bella. I sigh as I stand up while closing my computer. Then I shower in hopes of meeting Tags a little earlier than our usual midnight.
When I step out of the room and head toward the elevator, I get snagged from behind and dragged down the hall. I’m about ready to yell at Tags when I see him coming out of his room.
“Hey!”
When he starts laughing, I hear Ranger’s voice. “Just let it happen, Little Bell.”
Little Bell. He called me Little Bell.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re gonna party like tomorrow’s not a guarantee.” He laughs.
“ ’Cause it isn’t.” Maze chuckles.
When they open a door and pull me in, I see Axel.
He pops a bottle of champagne. “Let’s drink!”
Ranger and Maze, each of who have had one arm looped around mine as they dragged me down the hall, split ways, each one taking a side of the bed as the drag me onto it.
Sitting cross-legged, I see Grimm walk out of the bathroom. I’m shocked by his appearance. His face is no longer dusted with some sort of powder, his eyes no longer outlined in black, and his hair isn’t slicked back and stuck to his head.
“Well, damn, Grimm, look at you.”
He gives me a one-shoulder shrug. “Got a date with a girl.”
“Hired a hooker,” Maze whispers. Thankfully, Grimm doesn’t hear him.
I hold back my laugh. “Good for you.”
I slide off the bed and walk over to grab the glass Axel is holding out for me. I see Stanley at the door, holding the camera, taping us.
“This is awesome.” I hold up my glass. “Cheers.”
“Wait. We gotta make a toast.”
They all grab a flute and hold it up. And I wait … and wait.
“Someone going to say something?” Axel whispers.
They all look at each other, and I can’t help laughing. “I’ve heard a million of these things at Sunday dinner with the family but never led one, so take it easy on me afterward, got it?”
“Sure thing, Little Bell.” Maze winks.
“May our friendship be as permanent as the art you all drew. May we look back on these precious memories that bound this little crew. To art and ink and the friends whose glasses we clink.”
We all tap our glasses together then I take a sip while the rest of them slam theirs down.
“So, it’s gonna be like that, huh?” I laugh and raise my glass. “Well, bottoms up.”
I watch Ranger pour a shot of Patron and look at the time. It’s only one in the afternoon. Plenty of time to recover.
I grab a shot, hold it up, and say, “Forever Steel.”
They all do the same, then Ranger asks, “What the hell is Forever Steel?”
“It’s not a what; it’s a way of life.” I shrug. “It’s loyalty, it’s truth, it’s the love of a family by blood and by choice. It’s Forever Steel.”