Fade Into You (Shaken Dirty #3)(76)
“You’ll be removed from the apartment at nine tomorrow morning either way. Take the plane, don’t take the plane. Either way, it’s up to you. But as of right now, you’re done working for me. Forever.”
He hung up before she could even think of a response, and she was left standing in the middle of Fifth Street staring at her phone and wondering what the hell she was supposed to do now.
She’d known this was a possibility—of course she had. Her father didn’t take lightly people who crossed him. But at the same time, locking her out of her computer? Out of the apartment? Turning off her cell phone when she was in Austin? That was cold, even for him. She was his daughter. What did he think she was going to do to company property for God’s sake?
Then again, this wasn’t about company property. This was about teaching her a lesson. It was a lesson she got loud and clear. She’d taken the risk, chosen Wyatt, and it had cost her everything she’d been working for for so long.
But as she wandered back into Antone’s, holding up her backstage pass as she went, she looked at the band on stage and knew she wouldn’t have done anything differently. This was the band Shaken Dirty was supposed to be, the band that was going to turn them from stars into legends. The band that would give Wyatt all the stability and accolades he so deserved. She was proud of the small part she’d played in making that possible.
Did her professional life suck right now? No doubt. Was she freaking out deep inside, trying to figure out what to do? Absolutely. But looking at Wyatt and the others—hearing the music they were playing, knowing they’d found the solution they needed—she knew it was worth it. This was why she’d gotten into this industry, after all. For the music. As long as she remembered that, and the smile on Wyatt’s face as he played such amazing music, everything else was secondary.
She’d go back to the apartment after the show and pack up her stuff. Then she’d move to a hotel for a few days while she and Wyatt figured out what the next step for them was. If there was even going to be a next step once she told him the truth about what she’d been doing in Austin.
There was a part of her that wanted to bury the whole thing. To make up some excuse as for why the label had fired her and then never tell him the real reason she’d started working with Shaken Dirty. But that wasn’t exactly practical—if they did stay together, he was going to find out who her family was eventually. Hell, the jig was up once he actually got around to asking her last name.
Besides, the last thing she wanted to do was start their relationship off with a lie. Especially one of this magnitude. Not when trust was already such an issue for both of them.
No, she was going to have to tell him the truth and hope he cared enough about her to understand. And if he didn’t…well, better to know that now, too. Before she got in too deep.
As she stood there, she couldn’t resist watching Wyatt. He was grinning while he played, his whole face lit up like the Fourth of July. He was scanning the crowd, looking for something—looking for her, she realized as their gazes met. Her heart melted at the look in his eyes and that’s when she knew.
She was already in way too deep.
Chapter Twenty-Two
He looked for Poppy the second he got off stage. He caught a glimpse of her, got a chance to smile at her, but then he was swept into a huddle with the others as they informally formalized what they’d all known five minutes after stepping onto stage with Drew Fitzpatrick—that, despite his country roots and cowboy boots, he was the new bass player for Shaken Dirty. Thankfully, he seemed as excited to join as they were to have him.
Contracts and legalities had to be examined, of course—his manager, who had accompanied him to the gig, had been quick to bring things back to that…and to the fact that Bill Germaine had already reached out and was less than happy about this little development. But Drew didn’t give a shit and neither did the rest of them. When they went on tour in a couple of weeks, he was going to be up on stage with them. That much they were certain of. Everything else could be worked out among the managers, the lawyers, and the label. As Poppy had reminded him a few days ago, that’s what they were there for.
The second Wyatt could slip away, he did. He wanted to see Poppy, wanted to hold her, kiss her, stroke her to orgasm. And then he wanted to thank her for bringing Shaken Dirty the best bass player they ever could have imagined. When she’d told him that music was her life, she hadn’t been kidding. He just wished he’d known days ago how good she was at it—he would have let her deal with the bass player debacle from the beginning instead of wasting time with the names the label had kept tossing out.
He found her in the hallway outside the dressing room where they were meeting. She was leaning against the wall, head tilted back, eyes closed, arms crossed over her chest. She looked exhausted. After the way things had gone down in her bedroom last night, he wasn’t the least bit surprised. He should probably get her home and into bed as soon as possible…just because he was a courteous guy, of course.
Ignoring the way his dick hardened at just the thought of being in bed with Poppy, he called her name softly before reaching out to brush a hand down her shoulder in an effort to avoid startling her.
When she opened her eyes, they were nearly black with weariness and something else he couldn’t quite identify. He started to ask if she was okay, but the moment she registered it was him, her gaze cleared to the soft, rich chocolate color he loved. Then she was squealing and throwing her arms around his neck, pressing enthusiastic kisses all over his face.