Beautiful Crazy Part 21

Oh G.o.d, the ache was still unbearable. Would it ever get easier? Would she ever feel like she wasn't moving under water or breathing steam?

She'd talked to Bowen earlier that morning, and that had helped. Kevan had listened as he'd detailed the goings-on of his rehab stay. He sounded happy. Solemn, but happy. Her brother was starting to come back to life, but he needed more time to get well. He tried to disguise it, but the desperation came through in his calls.

She booted up her laptop and clicked on her email program, thinking about their conversation. She opened on an email from her former a.s.sistant, with the subject of Kevan's Itinerary and Promo Details.

Kevan's gaze narrowed as she tried to focus on the words on the screen. Maybe she was already drunk, because the email looked like a copy of the schedule she'd sent Sindra. At the top was a note from Tina to Steve, Mason's coworker at GEM.

Steve, Attached is the information you requested regarding Kevan's meeting with h.e.l.lfire. It appears Mason has left the tour. Kevan still doesn't have any idea we've been working together or that I still have access to her email.

I highly recommend intercepting her meeting with h.e.l.lfire. That, coupled with getting the media off her housing build, might turn the tide in your favor.

The tour ends tomorrow night in Reno. Kevan plans to create a bidding war for the band's recording contract between two recording labels (maybe more by now) that specialize in alt and metal genre bands at the final show. Reps from the labels MetalEdge and Vallerian have confirmed they will be in attendance.

I'm hoping you consider this information as proof of my continued efforts and a.s.sets to your team. I would appreciate if you would return my calls as soon as possible.

Sincerely, Tina Apparently, her former friend and a.s.sistant had stolen her email and conspired behind her back with the enemy. With the f.u.c.king enemy. How could she do this? Kevan had wondered how her world could get any more screwed up, and now she had the answer. Tina.

Numbly, she hit "reply all" and added Sindra and Mason to the cc.

Tina, The fact that you accidentally copied me on your traitorous email only serves to ill.u.s.trate just how incompetent an a.s.sistant you were. Turn your keys and laptop in to Sindra immediately. Don't bother asking for a reference.

Regards, Kevan Landry Kevan hit the send b.u.t.ton. "And you suck," she said to the empty room.

Tina's betrayal made her feel worse. While they hadn't been buddies, she still had considered her a friend. Her heart had been crushed by Mason's deception. And she hadn't thought she'd had anything left to give after that. She was wrong. The knife was stuck in by him, for sure, but Tina had shoved it in farther. And then twisted it for good measure. She'd been working with them the whole time behind her back. And worse-her heart clutching in her chest-had Mason known?

Was she a fool to have thought she could be more than a pretty girl with a big personality and bigger b.o.o.bs? She had believed she could have more-a business she felt pa.s.sionate about and a man who loved her as much as she loved him. Maybe her dad had called it years ago the first time she'd come home with her heart in her hands after it had been handed to her by one of the stars on the high school football team. He'd told her she needed to accept her lot in life.

But she didn't want to accept that this was all there was. She hoped the pain would go away some day, and hopefully, numbness would take over. She'd relearn how to function in life. Maybe a little colder or a little harder, but she still needed to work and get by.

She took a deep breath.

f.u.c.k this day. f.u.c.k Mason Dillon. And f.u.c.k that heartless shrew, Tina. Kevan Landry didn't need anyone. She'd been going along just fine without any of them, hadn't she?

She made her way to the bed and crawled in, smelling Mason's familiar sent on her pillow. When she closed her eyes, his face was the last thing floating behind her eyelids before she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Mason walked into the Global Entertainment Marketing building in the center of Portland's business district with a new sensation gripping his insides. Nervousness. For the first time since his interns.h.i.+p interview years ago, he felt unsure and confused about his role in the company. If he was honest with himself, this was the first time in his life where he couldn't foresee the outcome or even what the plan going in should be. He was as close to rudderless as he'd ever been. And a little tired of all these emotions cluttering his usual decisive style.

As he strode through the familiar plush office of GEM, he tried to project a calm exterior. As far as the outside world could tell, Mason Dillon was the f.u.c.king Ice Man cometh. He stood tall, wore a tailored suit, flawless shoes, and immaculate, if a little too long, hair. He was the perfect picture of the well-groomed, overeducated CEO, briefcase in hand, greeting his employees and some clients. Other than the tiny skull-and-crossbones pattern on his tie-a gift from Kevan-Mason was all business. On the outside.

The inside was a completely different story. Until he'd met Kevan Landry and went on the wild ride with her and Manix Curse, he had been confident of his next step, always had a plan B, and made sure every path was available to him.

Now, not so much. After a couple of sleepless nights, he'd created two plans he could follow. He could get back on track, starting with firing Steve and forcing the board to expand their clientele. Or he could chuck it all and start over from scratch.

While putting together his strategy, he'd received an email from Kevan. Strange that such a little image in the bottom of his screen could make his heart lurch so strongly. He clicked the icon and was confused by what he saw. The email header indicated it was from Tina, Kevan's flaky ex-a.s.sistant, but it was addressed to Steve.

His skin burned with anger as he read through the email. That f.u.c.king worthless b.i.t.c.h and spineless a.s.shole. Tina had been working behind her boss's back to guarantee Kevan lost the battle for Manix Curse, even after she'd been fired. She'd essentially tried to ensure GEM was guaranteed the contract. Suddenly, he understood it all clearly.

Kevan never had a chance and neither had he. Steve had been there to ensure she was sabotaged at every turn, and Mason-no, GEM-wouldn't lose the contract. Steve had been working against both of them. That's why the little snake had shown up in Medford and then Hollywood. Now Kevan not only believed he'd been working behind her back, but her ex-employee had been doing the same. She must feel utterly and completely alone.

With cracks along the edges of his polished facade, he walked into the expansive boardroom. The floor-length windows, framed by beige suede-covered walls, looked out over the large pond twinkling in the morning sun. Mason greeted each of the five board members, politely inquiring about their families. He completely ignored the newest addition to their group, the a.s.shole he wanted to slam against the wall. Revell sat there with his normal smarmy sneer, manicured hands folded neatly in front of him on the gleaming conference table.

After they'd all found their seats at the table, the chairman cleared his throat. "We want to congratulate you on your innovative thinking, Mason. You've always been a great leader, but you've demonstrated some ingenious savvy in not only identifying profitable new markets, but also acquiring new talent. Bravo, son." Mason looked at the man he'd considered a mentor, a friend for the last decade. "Steve has a.s.sured the board you've secured the heavy metallic band, Maniac's Curse, and a signed agreement is imminent," said the chairman.

Mason laughed. "It's Manix Curse, and they play heavy metal, Max. And it's hilarious Revell has promised you anything. Because he wouldn't know Axl Rose from an axle rod." Looking around, he saw the confusion on each board member's face. It was almost comical.

John Cleery, the company's other cofounder, took a sip of water and glared at Mason. "What's so amusing? Do we need to remind you that your job is still in jeopardy and Revell has shown competency in your position?"

"You're f.u.c.king kidding, right?" The men at the table gasped. Mason had broken a major rule of this little club. No cursing or criticizing board members. "You wouldn't know innovation if it bit you in the a.s.s. I've been campaigning for a diversified talent pool in the company for years. Then you threaten me. So I decided to investigate viable options on my own. Then you send that sneaky little f.u.c.kwit to keep tabs on me. This is bulls.h.i.+t, gentlemen." He could feel his face heating up as his anger began to take hold.

"There's no need to be nasty, Mason."

"This isn't me being nasty. Trust me on that, John. I've spent the last ten years earning this company millions in revenue. GEM's success is because of the solid company I've built. So when revenues began to dip, I tried for two years to guide the board into accepting and pursuing a broader, edgier, cross section of clientele. You refused and fought me at every turn."

"Now wait a minute, son-"

"No, Max, I'm done waiting. Let me finish." Mason cleared his throat. "When I took the initiative and made the decision to go after what I thought as the CEO was the best path for GEM, you sent in our most underhanded VP to do your bidding, instead of trusting me to do the job I've done well for a decade."

The coward Steve coughed into his hand, drawing everyone's attention to him. "I was only there to help you get the job done, buddy. Someone needed to stay on task while you were distracted. And it worked, right? All that matters is we got the contract."

Mason clenched his hands around the arms of his chair to keep from springing across the table and pummeling Steve. "No, a.s.swipe. Manix Curse is not ours to sign. They've decided to go with a boutique agency that better understands their market."

Mason watched the smug look fade from Steve's face, replaced with confusion and then rage.

"How the f.u.c.k did that happen? I bought them new instruments, promised a media deal. I even f.u.c.ked Landry's bony-a.s.s a.s.sistant, and you still couldn't close the deal?"

Mason pushed up from his seat, knocking back his chair, and stalked to where Revell was seated. At least the little weasel had the decency to appear frightened.

Leaning over so his face was level with his, he grabbed Revell's tie and pulled him forward. Speaking slowly, he said, "Listen to me carefully, motherf.u.c.ker. If you mess with Kevan's agency again or so much as look her way, I will f.u.c.king end you. Are we clear?"

Revell nodded; beads of sweat pebbled his reddening face. Mason released his tie and shoved him back in his chair so forcefully he slammed into the wall with a crash.

Turning to address the room, Mason said, "I quit."

The board members all spoke at once, trying to be heard over the others. Their distress was probably more from not being able to fire him first and less because they genuinely wanted him to stay. He knew Maxfield was proselytizing and grandstanding-his mouth was moving, and his s.h.i.+ny, manicured nails were gesturing-but Mason couldn't hear the words. In his head, all he heard was Kevan's voice playing over and over, like a looping sound bite: "I wasn't broken until you broke me."

He walked out of the room, feeling one hundred pounds lighter. He was done. This part of his life was over. Finished. He felt alone and completely unsure of what to do next, but he knew he'd made the right move. His life had no structure now, no direction. No f.u.c.king plan. No job. No Kevan.

This was probably how Kevan felt. Alone. Shattered. Directionless. He'd walked away from her, thinking he would find a way to fix everything. But he couldn't fix this. He was as broken as she was, maybe even more so.

For once, he didn't have answers and needed to call in reinforcements. Getting into his car, he didn't bother to call, knowing his sister was home. When he pounded on the front door of her quaint bungalow, his sister swung the door open, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. "Hey, what's up?"

Better to get it all out and see what happens. "Jami, I need your help."

After she pulled him into the house and sat across from him on her fancy velvet couch, she narrowed her eyes as if concentrating on a puzzle she could solve. Suddenly, her eyes widened, and a grin blossomed across her stoic face.

"It happened." Her voice wavered. "You're in love."

"Jesus, how can you tell?" Exasperated, but loving how she knew him so well.

"Cut the c.r.a.p, Mason" He could always count on his sister to cut to the chase. "Spill it. And I mean all of it."

And it poured out. Everything. From the supposed one-night stand to the last fight to the meeting with the GEM board. Jami peppered questions here and there, but she mostly listened to his description of the tour and his relations.h.i.+p with Kevan.

"You really love her, don't you?" she asked quietly.

"I do." He paused. "I love her so much it hurts to breathe, knowing she might not love me back."

"But why wouldn't she love you? I mean, besides all the work stuff, which doesn't even matter."

"We're so different. I mean, she's gorgeous and smart, but we come from very different worlds."

"And that matters how?"

He thought for a second. "It doesn't."

"Then my advice is to go get your girl, a.s.shole." Wow. His little sister almost never swore. When he didn't respond, she yelled, "Now."

"I love you, Jami." He grabbed her and hugged her so hard she smacked his arm.

"Shut up and go fix this, because that's what you do." She shooed him out the door.

He doubted it would be so easy to convince Kevan they belonged together. But he was going to do whatever it took to convince her. He was done pus.h.i.+ng all his feelings down and trying to disguise his love as something else. He was going after his girl.

Chapter 23.

The bright glare of light burned through Kevan's eyelids, and the noises outside the bus sounded like they were coming through a megaphone, sc.r.a.ping against her skull. Realizing they must be in Reno, the last stop of the tour, she rolled over in the cold bed to glance at the alarm clock glowing 11:23 a.m.

Holy s.h.i.+t. She'd gotten almost ten hours of sleep, the most she'd gotten in months. Kevan cringed at the ache wrapping around the back of her head and burning in her eyes. Perhaps the tequila hangover wasn't worth the oblivion of a few hours of sleep. Already predicting a long day of meetings, sound checks, and what was expected to be an epic, according to Jax, after-party, she sat up and groaned.

Kevan kicked off the blankets and made her way into the restroom to start her last day on tour with Manix Curse. As she stared at her naked, disheveled self before stepping into the warm shower, she realized that the overwhelming sense of doom clinging to her for the last three days had been replaced by numbness. She wasn't afraid, nor was she worried about the outcome or the band's decision? The last thing she really wanted to think about right now was going back to work. And maybe Bowen could come home early and go to meetings, or she could probably get the guys at the shop to run some kind of fundraiser to help with the rest of his rehab. Or she could add some modeling jobs and another part-time job.

Yeah, sure. And I'll get my own personal unicorn, and rainbows will shoot out of its b.u.t.t.

n.o.body really needed her anymore, and she didn't need them. None of it really mattered. She'd follow through on her commitment to the band tonight. Then she'd crawl back to her little apartment and coma sleep for a couple of days before she went to grovel for extra work. Maybe she'd get lucky, and Tony would give her more hours or need some more pinup tattoo shots for the shop or their signage. Everything would go back to the way it was-the same. It would be fine.

She tried to pull a deep breath into her lungs, but the air caught in her throat. She choked down the inevitable sobs threatening to bubble up. Again. The Chevelle's line "send the pain down below" ran through her head. Yep, shove that s.h.i.+t right on down. But it was so hard. So hard to forget his hands in her hair, his mouth on her neck, his arms around her body. d.a.m.n. Maybe her heart did still twinge a little. Would she ever get the smell of him off her?

The band was still at their sound check, so Kevan took her time getting ready. Their first appointment was an interview at a local Reno radio station. After a short acoustic set at the local college, they'd do their show and top it off with the huge end-of-the-tour party. She'd been working all the social media angles for the past week, building up to tonight's show at the Knitting Factory. Old and new fans were pumped about the band's appearance, and the venue manager expected tickets to sell out.

Any other day, she'd be proud of the schedule, proud of what she'd accomplished. Today, she couldn't bring herself to care. She faced the harsh truth of betrayal by her friend-and Mason, probably the one true love of her life. There, at least she'd admitted it. She had fallen in love with the straitlaced suit. It was humiliating enough that he didn't love her back. h.e.l.l, she was used to that, but she had actually trusted him to "fight fair." Kevan now had confirmation she was a complete failure in love and in business.

She turned off the water and pulled herself out of the shower. She leaned her forehead against the wall and stopped fighting. One more time she let the relief of the tears come. Just this once and then she'd let go and move on. She let the salty tears streak down her face. Yep. One more good cry and she was sure she'd be better.

While running the towel over her wet skin, a thought flitted through her sluggish and tear-drowned brain. What if Mason hadn't screwed her over? What if he'd actually had an explanation for the mess the other night? She never had given him a chance to explain. For a moment, she didn't feel so heavy, so numb. For a moment, she clung to the idea that there was a possible future for her and Mason.

But no. He would have said something then, when she had accused him. It was too late now anyway. The bridge had been burned. She laughed to herself, the sound echoing off the small stall. That bridge had been exploded in a scene from a blockbuster action film. But maybe she could still salvage the contract and get her family back together. Be there for her brother like he'd always been there for her.

She finished toweling off and wrapped her hair up in a big, wet bun before throwing on some jeans and a T-s.h.i.+rt. After making some coffee, she plopped down in front of her computer to work. She went through the motions-emailing, calling, and working on a tour announcement press release-until the afternoon rolled around and it was time for the band's promo appearances.

Manix was in rare form during the radio show and the short acoustic set at the college. The band's enthusiasm actually lifted Kevan's spirits. She even threw Jax her best sa.s.sy smile when he constantly shot her concerned glances and told her twice that they needed to talk. Then she'd done everything possible to stay out of his path.

With two record-label executives in the audience, she'd made every effort to dress in her regular attire and affect a professional appearance. She wanted the band to be successful, even if they were ambivalent about her part in their future. She owed the guys the best representation possible. When Kevan made a promise, she always did her best to follow through. So many people broke their promises to her, and she did the opposite. It was part of her moral code. If she didn't, then what did she have left? Not a f.u.c.king thing.

While the opening band played, Kevan introduced Joe to each of the record-label reps. The three men chatted, and a pitching war started between the two execs, reminding Kevan of a not-so-long-ago campaign in Joe's office. The memory twisted in her, sharp and fresh.

Excusing herself, she headed for the bathroom but found her path blocked by a very good-looking, very tall, tattooed drummer. If the look on his face was any indication of his mood, she was in for a lecture, or inquiry, or something. He regarded her with narrowed eyes and a pretty d.a.m.n serious set to his jaw when he wrapped his fingers around her arm and pulled her into the back office.

"It's time for our talk, Kevan," he said as she tried to pull her arm free from his grasp. "Now."

Jax pushed her toward the worn love seat and turned to lock the door. He leaned his long, muscled body against it.

"What the f.u.c.k, Jax?"

"What the h.e.l.l is going on with you?" The muscles in his jaw tightened, and his eyes went sharp.

"I told you I'm fine. All right?"

"You're a terrible liar, Kevan Landry. In case you've forgotten, I was there during the Professor f.u.c.khead s.h.i.+t. I was there when Bowen was beat to h.e.l.l by that a.s.shole. And you were upset." He crossed his inked arms. "But I've never seen you like this. What's going on?"

Kevan sighed, vowing she wasn't going to cry. Not again. "We had an agreement, Jax. And he lied-about everything. I thought I was falling in love with him. And I thought he was starting to love me too. But it was all a lie."

He shook his head, disbelief clouding his features. "No, he told me early on he was serious about you. He got very possessive. Kind of p.i.s.sed me off at first. But he asked me to give him a chance. With you."

"When? What are you talking about?"

"Mason told me he really cares about you and he wouldn't hurt you. That's what I was trying to tell you when you got p.i.s.sed."

He cares about you.

She shrugged. "He lied."

"Are you so sure?"

"He made me fall in love with him and then went behind my back to steal Manix away from me. We had this stupid agreement." Kevan stood and paced in front of the couch. "We were going to compete for you fair and square. Just him and me, no company resources, no outside help." She stopped and looked up at him, blowing a loose blue curl out of her eyes with a burst of air. "I believed him. Like the f.u.c.king idiot I am."

Jax shoved his body off the door and reached her in two long steps. He grabbed her shoulders. "Look at me, Kev."

Slowly, she looked up, trying to force her face into a mask of defiance, until she saw the compa.s.sion was.h.i.+ng from his.