My cell rang and reminded me of my eleven o’clock team meeting.
“Ben?”
I looked up at young Mr. Peterson and the rest of my team, who were staring at me.
We had been working on the campaign for months, and I needed to focus. Graham had sent back every idea until our last pitch.
“What?” I snapped.
“I was asking you for your thoughts?”
My thoughts, that was humorous.
My focus had been on the snarky blonde wanna-be musician from the bagel shop. I couldn’t get her out of my head. Yes, she would be great for a night or two. Maybe that was it; it had been a while. Busy with Graham’s new acquisition, I hadn’t realized how long it had been with the late nights.
No, that wasn’t it.
Someone cleared their throat, and I looked at all the faces, eagerly waiting.
What the hell was the question?
“I’ll speak to Graham, then we can discuss more on Saturday.”
A few groans came out, along with several rolled eyes. These fuckers took months to get it right, we were at the end, and they were bitching?
“If Saturday morning won’t work, we can complete this Saturday evening and Sunday. Graham and I are usually here, you all could join us.”
That shut them the hell up.
After I kicked the team out of my office, I tried to focus on the files in front of me versus staring out of the window. The sun was out, bringing some warmth to the cold city. It had been a long winter, and the snow was finally melting. That could be why she had such a problem paying her rent; it had been a harsh winter.
I threw down the files. Fuck it.
I needed to get out of there. I grabbed my jacket and knew exactly where I was headed.
Blondie could hold a crowd and her notes, too. She would have to work on her projection and tweak her performance, but she was good.
I stood behind an older couple listening to her belt out a Stevie Nicks’ song, and she did a decent cover of it. Her eyes stayed closed for half the song. I wasn’t sure if it was nerves, as she seemed to be getting into it.
When the crowd dispersed, and the couple shifted to the right, her eyes opened, looking directly into mine. She hesitated for a split second, undetected to most, I was sure, but I knew. It was when I smiled at her, and those deep brown eyes glared back, she knew I’d caught her hesitation. She glared a few more times in my direction, singing two more songs before taking a break.
I grabbed my wallet, pulling out several bills as I approached, throwing them in her guitar case. “Not bad. You need to project your voice more for this environment and try to engage the audience with your eyes.”
She placed her guitar down and folded her arms.
“What are you doing here?”
I wasn’t sure myself, so I said the most obvious reason.
“Getting lunch.”
She stared at me with what I assumed was supposed to be the evil eye, but she looked sexier. A sultry temptress who I wouldn’t mind taking back to my place for a quick fuck—maybe not so quick. I knew her mouth could do other wonderful things.
“It sounded more like you were throwing out criticism.” She stepped closer with her hands on her hips.
She was beautiful, even when she was angry. She definitely had fire deep down. I saw it at Pop’s shop. Although she tried to control it, it was still there.
“Constructive criticism is different, Songbird. You need to have thicker skin if you plan to have longevity in this business.”
Her mouth bunched up, and that was her tell, she was holding in whatever she wanted to say. I laughed at her effort.
“Did you come here to criticize me? It was bad enough you wouldn’t help me out earlier, now you’re some kind of music critic?”
“Not exactly.”
“Do you get off being a jackass?”
“You need to grow thicker skin, Songbird, and this weekend, you can find out what gets me off.”
She hesitated, mouth opening, then closing before she spoke. “If that’s your way of asking me out, no thank you.”
The offer had slipped out, but when it did, it felt right. I pulled out my business card and handed it to her.
“If you are free Saturday evening, we could discuss more over dinner.”
She looked at my card and huffed. “Senior Sales and Marketing Executive for Morgan Financial Holdings.” Her eyes were full of humor. “Like I thought, you aren’t from Vibe Music. Is this some type of warehouse?”
“An investment firm, actually. One that deals with everything from real estate to financial investments.”
“Well, Mr.” —she examined the card— “Schilling, thank you for the offer, but no thanks.”
I closed the gap between us. She looked up at me, eyes bright and quizzically scanning mine. This close in the sunlight, I could see the golden amber flecks in her eyes.
“What’s your name, Songbird?”
She bit down on her bottom lip. “Melody.”
Melody, a name that suited her well.
“Melody, I would like to take you to dinner, Saturday night.”
Her eyes rapidly looked away, then met mine, but she didn’t respond.
“Give me your address, and I’ll pick you up at seven.”
She blinked a few times, then stepped back.
“I’m not available Saturday.”
“Friday will be fine.”
She shook her head. “I’m not interested in a relationship right now.”
I looked at her, amazed by her response and her misunderstanding.
“I was asking you out to dinner. No one mentioned a relationship.”
She lifted her guitar. “Then you shouldn’t be offended. No is my final answer.”
She moved past me and started singing, leaving me to my thoughts. What the hell just happened?
I wondered all the way back to my office.
I cursed in frustration and threw the file I’d been reading on my desk. I was behind schedule, due to that little detour I made earlier and pissed off over the rejection I was handed.
Rejection wasn’t something I knew well, and I knew she was attracted to me. At first, I figured I’d have some fun, let out some stress; it’d been a hell of a couple of months. But hearing Melody sing, I actually wanted to help her. She was also different from my usual. Her honesty and openness were refreshing.
I ran my hand through my hair as I sat back at my desk, looking at the same files from earlier. Still unable to get Melody out of my mind, I knew I had to do something. I pulled out my cell, scrolling through the usual names, and landed on Susan’s. She was always up for a good time.
Chapter Three
Melody
The door slammed louder than I intended.
“What the hell, Mel!” Her voice was raspy.
Genesis’s head peeked over the sofa. One side of her black hair was flat, and her wide brown eyes were red. She was gorgeous, no matter how tired she was, but her dark complexion showed the bags under her eyes.
“I’m sorry, the door must have slipped,” I whispered.
That was a lie, and she knew it from the arched brow she was throwing.