“Hello,” the stranger said.
“Hi, and thank you again.”
“I’m getting off at 28th—there’s a great little Indian spot if you would like to join me?”
“Thanks, but I’m heading to meet my... boyfriend.”
“Lucky guy.” He licked his lips and focused back on his cell.
I was used to guys hitting on me, but saying “boyfriend” in regard to Ben seemed odd. Even after Derek, it had been a while, and Ben and I hadn’t addressed the labels in our relationship.
I stared at the filthy floor, trying to shake the air of melancholy. It was too early for labels in our relationship, but I wanted one. He was vocal about me being his, but I wanted him to be mine.
All mine.
What would he say if a woman approached him?
My stop came up, and I hesitated, looking down at my bag. When the doors closed, I stood there until the stop to the park.
Rationalizing what I had read was tougher than I first thought. The first two articles I read were from the point of view of an artist Peter represented. She claimed he took advantage of her and didn’t disclose he represented the label.
Peter refuted with a lot of legalese that sounded justifiable. Vibe Music was in talks to buy out the label she was a part of. The buyout didn’t happen until years later. She felt he should have disclosed that information, but with buyouts, they usually didn’t until it was a done deal.
The other articles mentioning Ben, surprised me. I knew he had worked at Harper from what he previously said. His father seemed to have placed him on his team as some sort of advisor. But it was the case that bothered me. An artist was accused of assaulting a woman, and Peter was able to get him off. It was the fact Peter credited Ben that concerned me.
There were a few other articles that mentioned a financial company, Gainesworth Investments, not Morgan Financial Holdings, where Ben worked. There were some deals Peter seemed involved in with the founder Liam Gainesworth that was looked at for payola, illegal payments for broadcasts. The FCC had investigated the bribes.
What I didn’t understand was why Ben’s name was associated with a Federal Communications Commission investigation.
As much as I tried to reason with what I read, the only way to get to the truth was to ask Ben.
Chapter Sixteen
Ben
Waking up with Melody next to me made crappy days much better.
Listening to these half-assed ideas wasn’t affecting me. I didn’t feel a hint of compassion when I told my team to start the project over. All I could think about was going home and seeing Melody. I picked up my cell while my team tried to convince me otherwise to scratch their efforts.
“Scott, did you collect her?”
“Yes, sir. Lori has advised that everything is ready, and she will be gone for the evening.”
“Perfect.”
When I hung up, all eyes were on me.
“Don’t let me interrupt.” I stood and buttoned my suit coat. “I will see you tomorrow.” I walked toward the door. “With a new campaign,” I added, not looking back.
Throwing my wallet and jacket on the credenza, I unhooked my cufflinks and placed them in the bowl. Rolling up my sleeves, I walked into the kitchen.
“Mmm, it smells as good as it looks.”
Startled by my presence, Melody turned around, almost dropping the bowl.
“Ben!”
“Sorry, let me grab that.” I took the salad and placed it on the dining room table. The table was set with several candles and a bottle of wine by my chair.
“Sit, dinner is almost ready.”
I walked back into the kitchen, grabbed her from behind, and buried my face in her hair. The smell of her always made my dick hard.
“I want a proper greeting, woman.”
She turned in my arms and kissed me gently. I curled my fingers in her hair and pulled until her wide eyes looked at mine.
“I said proper.”
I kissed her, pressing my cock into her. He was ready to jump out, but dinner had to come first. When I released Melody, her chest was heaving and her mouth puffy. I bit her lower lip, and the moan that came out of her almost caused her dinner to be disregarded. She tried to push me away, but I wasn’t having it. I had to kiss her again before finally releasing her.
“Lori left me heating instructions,” she said breathlessly.
“How was your day?” I went to open the wine.
Melody placed the pasta with bread on the table and took the seat next to me.
The dining room table was made to seat twelve, but I usually preferred to eat in the kitchen. Having Melody here, I thought she would like the room. The décor was a music theme with pieces of instruments hanging on the walls.
“I’m more interested to hear about yours,” she said as I poured the wine.
I unbuttoned my vest, took off my tie, and threw it on a chair next to me, then undid a few shirt buttons.
“It was a good day.”
“That’s a great thing.” She plated our salad.
“All I could think about was you.”
Her smile was radiant and infectious.
“Shall we?” she asked, and I nodded as she said a quick prayer—still something to get used to.
We talked about our day and planned some weekend activities. It was supposed to rain all weekend. Melody loved visiting museums, so we decided on a few galleries in Chelsea. She admired the artwork in the dining room—as I guessed—and I told her I would take her to the artist’s studio. After dinner, I helped her clean the table and placed the plates in the dishwasher.
She giggled.
“What’s on your mind?”
“I was thinking about how you would react if I sprayed you with water.” She pointed the silver faucet at me.
I closed the dishwasher and walked up to her, placing her hand with the hose on my chest.
“I can tell you now, Songbird, getting me wet will only lead to me getting you very wet in the shower.”
She swallowed, and it was my turn to laugh.
“As great as that sounds, there’s something I wanted to discuss with you.” She placed the hose back in the sink and dried off with a towel.
“Discuss, huh?”
“Let’s go into the other room.” She suddenly looked nervous.
Taking her hand, we walked into the family room. Melody sat on the sofa while I turned on some music, then hit the remote for the pixels in the windows to show out versus in. We were facing the river, and I wanted to keep our privacy. The floor-to-ceiling windows were custom-made not to be dressed with drapes or blinds. We could look out as if the windows were open, but no one could see inside my home. I poured myself a brandy as Melody stared out the window.
“What’s on your mind?”
Whatever it was had her worried. Frown lines creased her forehead, and those beautiful brown eyes seemed sad. I put down my drink and moved closer to her, bringing her into my chest.
“What’s going on?”
“I saw Derek today...”
Instant rage spilled out. I pushed her back, looking over her.
“Did that asshole hurt you?”
“No. No, nothing like that.”