Sweet Possession (Sweet #5)(10)

“Lyric is her own worst enemy at times,” Phillip said. “If she knew some weirdo was leaving notes for her, there’s no telling what she’d do. She’s not the type to be cautious and play it safe. And we can’t go around canceling events every time some whack job starts threatening her. If we did that, we’d be out of business.”

“It seems to me, whether there’s a threat or not, she does whatever the hell she wants and damn the consequences.”

“Yeah,” Phillip said wearily. “Something like that.”

“So if she’s doing it either way, it makes no sense not to tell her what’s going on. At least then she might adopt a little self-preservation. Especially if you aren’t going to cancel a public appearance that most definitely puts her at risk.”

Phillip’s eyes narrowed. “Look, you don’t know Lyric—”

Connor held up his hand. “You’re right. I don’t know her. I don’t have a desire to get to know her. But if I’m going to take this job, I’m not coddling her, which means I’m going to be straight with her from the start. She’s going to be briefed on everything. And then she’s going to do what I tell her, when I tell her, or I walk. It’s as simple as that.”

“She’s never going to go for such heavy-handed treatment.”

Connor shrugged. “It seems to me you need me a hell of a lot more than I need you. I’d love nothing more than for her to fire me.”

“You work for me,” Phillip was quick to say. “She doesn’t have a choice.”

“Then I guess she better get used to a heavy hand. She’s too used to having her ass kissed.”

Phillip surprised Connor by laughing. “I suppose to you that’s the way it looks. When someone makes your label as much money as she has, you do whatever’s necessary to keep her happy. That’s business.”

“It’s not my job to make her happy,” Connor said evenly. “It’s my job to keep her safe.”

Phillip smiled broadly. “You know what, son? I think I’m sorry I’m going back to L.A. It might be worth being a fly on the wall for the next two weeks. I’m not sure Lyric’s ever met someone she couldn’t steamroll in two seconds flat.”

“Well, now she has.”

Lyric tapped her finger on the steering wheel of the BMW and glanced over at the GPS guidance system. She was just a block away from the place she was supposed to meet Connor Malone. It was tempting to show up late, just because, but to be honest, she wanted to get the whole thing over with as soon as possible.

She could have showed up in a limo and made an entrance, but Connor would probably be expecting that—he did seem to expect the worst—and while she’d normally enjoy feeding it to him with a silver spoon, she preferred to be perverse and surprise him.

How pathetic did it make her that she’d actually spent an inordinate amount of time analyzing what he would expect and therefore go the opposite direction?

She glanced at her manicured nails as she turned into the parking lot, relieved that she’d gone an entire day without breaking one—a new record.

Her outfit was hot, again, in a totally-not-what-he’d-be-expecting way. She didn’t really care for the slutty pop rocker look except onstage because, well, it worked there. She loved expensive clothes, or, more important, clothes that looked expensive. She liked they way they felt on her. The way they looked.

She’d come a long way from Bum Fuck, Mississippi, and it would be a cold day in hell before she’d ever go back. She wouldn’t even do shows there. Not that there were many places to put on a concert the size of hers.

Hell, she wouldn’t even drive through the godforsaken state. She was sure her road crew thought she was nuts because she made them detour around the state when they’d driven from New Orleans to Atlanta.

She got out of her car and straightened her suede miniskirt. She had on a killer pair of heels. They were total f**k-me shoes and gave her a much-needed three inches in height. She liked looking good. It gave her confidence, especially in situations where she felt at a disadvantage. Not that she’d ever admit such a thing to anyone. Only a moron admitted weakness to her enemies.

She slipped her shades down over her nose like a shield and entered the building.

“Ms. Jones?”

Lyric turned in the direction of the feminine voice to see a blond woman standing in the doorway to the front office.

“I’m Lyric Jones,” she acknowledged.

The woman smiled and walked forward, her hand stuck out. “Faith Montgomery. I’m Connor’s sister. They’re waiting for you in the conference room. I’ll show you back.”

Lyric shook her hand and felt distinctly uncomfortable. Faith struck her as one of those genuine, disgustingly nice people, and Lyric was never sure how to act around them. Nobody was genuine in her world.

Silently she followed Faith down the hallway. Faith walked through the open door and the room went quiet. All eyes fell on Lyric when she came in behind Faith. Lyric surveyed the room with a frown, noticing quite a few faces she didn’t recognize.

“Please have a seat,” Faith said. “Can I get you some coffee?”

Lyric shook her head but managed a smile since Faith was being so . . . nice.

“Lyric, glad you made it,” Phillip said as he stood.