Untamed (Thoughtless #4)(88)
Chapter 17
Awesome Strikes Back
Having a little purpose while I was “working” during the day made some of my hope and good humor return. While I killed time in bars or diners, I started writing down lyrics. I figured it wouldn’t take me too long to have a handful of awesome songs. I mean, Kellan came up with them all the time. A huge part of me wanted to tell Anna my news, wanted to stop the charade of filming Acing It every day and start bouncing ideas off her, but I couldn’t yet. I couldn’t tell her I’d been deceiving her in such a big-ass way that the fib I’d told her about the pilot now seemed like an innocent little white lie. I couldn’t tell her anything until I had a contract with a record label under my belt. A killer contract that would ease all of her worries. She’d still be mad at me for breaking her trust again, but maybe then she wouldn’t kill me.
Songwriting was more time-consuming than I thought it would be, and I found myself doing it all the time, even on the rare occasions when I was home with Anna and the girls. Like one Saturday afternoon, when I was in my office trying to come up with lines that were intriguing and thought-provoking. What I was writing down though was closer to fifth-grade poetry. Dirty fifth-grade poetry. “Roses are red, violets are blue, let’s strip off these clothes so I can do you.” Direct and to the point. Sounded good to me. I circled it in red—a keeper.
By the time the afternoon melted into evening, I had enough keepers for an entire song. Ha! Kellan acted like coming up with lyrics was challenging, but this shit wasn’t so hard. It flowed out of my mind as easily as beer down my gullet…whatever the f*ck a gullet was. Wanting a drink now, I yelled over my shoulder, “Alfred! Beer me!”
“Yes, sir,” came his response. I knew he’d been close.
Alfred returned while I was scribbling down more masterpieces. He set the bottle on my desk, and I instantly wrapped my fingers around the cold glass. I couldn’t pull it toward me though, because he was still holding on to it. “Dude, if you’re expecting a thanks, think again. I don’t thank people I pay.” I glanced up, but it was Anna standing in front of me, holding my drink hostage.
“I know,” she replied. “And I still think you should. Even though you do pay them an obscene amount of money, it’s the decent thing to do.”
Sitting up in my chair, I told her, “I’ve never been decent. You know that.”
She crooked a small smile, then glanced at my desk. “What have you been doing up here all day?”
I’d been transferring all of my good lyrics onto one page. Wondering what she would think about them, I held the page up to her. “I’ve been writing a song.”
Her face instantly transformed from curious to almost euphoric. “Oh, Griffin, that’s great news. Is it for the band? Did you call Kellan or Matt? Did you guys patch things up?”
I froze with the piece of paper still in the air. Shit. I hadn’t expected her to leap to that conclusion. Honestly, I hadn’t thought about having to give her a reason for writing a song. Wrapped up in my project, I’d forgotten that Anna was in the dark…about a lot of things. So, what should I tell her? The truth? That I was working on getting a record contract of my own? No, she wouldn’t understand why, since she thought the show was still going. And without a contract, I couldn’t come clean, but…the show was about a rock star. Knowing fate had laid the perfect lie in my hands, I told her, “No…it’s for the show. They’re letting me write Ace’s stuff. Pretty awesome, huh?” Fuck.
She pursed her lips, but then smiled. Coming around my desk, she plopped herself onto my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck. She leaned in, squeezing her breasts into my face. “Oh, I was hoping you and the band were getting back together. But this is good too. It’s just, it’s been so stressful with everyone broken up…like my parents have gotten divorced or something. You don’t even come home anymore when Kiera and the girls visit.”
I pulled away so I could look up into her face. “I’m not getting back together with them, Anna. Ever. I wrote this song for me. For my band.” Not wanting her to read too much into that, I amended with “My TV band, anyway.”
Her smile fell. “Yeah, your TV band.” She shook her head. “Griff, I know you’re excited about this show, but why don’t you go back to them? Kiera tells me they haven’t found a replacement yet, and Matt is itching to start another album since the last one…didn’t do as well as expected. I’m sure if you called him and apologized…Maybe you could do both? The show and the band?”
My gut started clenching at her suggestion. I tried that. But Matt shot me down, belittled me. No, going back wasn’t an option anymore. “Apologize? For what? I didn’t do anything wrong. Those *s shoved me in a box, and when I tried to get out, they tried locking it. That shit doesn’t work on me though. I need freedom.”
She clamped her mouth together so hard, I could see the muscles in her jaw tighten. I wasn’t sure if she’d taken my comment personally or if she was upset that I still wouldn’t consider it. I was just about to tell her that I didn’t mean her when she shook her head and said, “Okay, so…the show is going to let you write songs? Maybe I can help you?” She looked over at my lyrics again, reading them this time. She frowned. “Please tell me this isn’t one of them.”