Текст книги "Fade to Red"

Автор книги: Willow Aster

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He held her close and lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “Oh, this girl can have whatever she wants.” He put his nose to her dark wavy hair and sniffed. “And she smells so good.”

Ian smiled. “Nothing like it, man.”

Anthony stood in front of Sparrow and took both hands.

“You are even more breathtaking in person,” he said. He backed away, still holding her hands and looked her up and down. “That is one hot outfit. All creamy, demure lace on top and chiffon black shorts up to there.” He lifted one eyebrow and nodded.

Her cheeks turned rosy as she thanked him and he looked at Ian like his every fantasy had come true.

“She’s perfect for you!” he said.

“You’ve got that right,” Ian agreed.

Roxie had stayed back and when she finally came forward she had a little bag in her hand. Ian had told Sparrow about Roxie and how he thought Beck liked her. She was a cool girl—funny and nice … well, to everyone but Beck. The way they danced together canceled out all that animosity though.

Roxie introduced herself and held up the bag. “Ian’s been showing us her pictures, telling us all the new things she’s doing. I hope you don’t mind—I’ve been working on this during my breaks…”

Sparrow opened the bag and stared at Roxie. “Oh my goodness! That’s so sweet. Thank you!” She leaned over and hugged Roxie, which seemed to catch Roxie off guard.

Inside was a beautiful yellow sweater. Ian reached out and touched it.

“So soft,” he said, smiling at Roxie.

Sparrow held it up. “I love it—it’s beautiful! Thank you so much. I can’t believe you did that before even meeting us.”

Roxie smiled. “Ian talks about you guys so much, I feel like I know you.”

The dreams didn’t stop. Beckham dreamed about Roxie almost every night. They were either dancing or he was exploring her body like a man starved. He didn’t know if his dreams of her were memories or just the desire he’d had for her from the moment he saw her. Knowing how he’d wanted her from that first day, he couldn’t understand how he could ever forget her, but there was a stretch of time before he’d gone in rehab that he’d never even admitted to himself how bad off he’d really been. There were significant chunks of time that were completely lost—he couldn’t remember anything with clarity. The shame of that lingered before he ever saw Roxie, but knowing she had also been involved, and obviously hurt, ate away at him.

A few weeks before they were supposed to go on the road, he’d had another dream and showed up at rehearsal looking haggard. He kept his distance from her now when they weren’t dancing, watching her laugh and talk with the others. She seemed a little older than the rest, more mature. Everyone, including Anthony, was crazy about her. When her guard was down, which was miles high with only him, she was charming and funny. And caring—nurturing even. During any down time, she pulled out her knitting needles and made it look incredibly cool. Even Shelton, who was the snarky one out of the bunch, wore the scarf she made for him every day.

She’d won Sparrow over within the first three minutes of their meeting. Now Sparrow came in frequently, and she and Roxie always chatted away like they’d been friends forever. He was glad they’d hit it off so well.

But he wanted in. It was more than making it up to her. It was more than sex, although that’s all he could think about, at first. But every day he was around her, he wanted to know her. Really know her.

Lately she stuck around for lunch, disappearing less and less, and making him hope that she was finally getting more comfortable around him. But today, when they took their lunch break, she gave a wave and took off. On a whim, he followed her, telling himself it wasn’t creepy at all that he tried to make sure she didn’t see him.

He didn’t have to follow her for long. She pulled up to a Taco Bell and hopped out of the car. She waved at someone, but he couldn’t see who. Taking a deep breath, he put on a cap, parked, and got out of the car.

Roxie laughed her throaty laugh, looking toward the window of the restaurant. Beckham stepped beside Roxie and started walking in with her like it was no big deal. When she noticed him, she stopped walking in the middle of the parking lot.

“Beckham? What are you doing here?” Roxie said sharply.

“I … followed you. Sorry.” He tried to judge how mad he’d made her this time. “I wanted to know where you go when you disappear, maybe surprise you.” He tried to smile, but it came out lopsided and guilty. “Now I realize what a bad move this was. I just-I want us to get along, Roxie … I thought maybe away from everyone else, you’d talk to me? Maybe tell me what I can do to make it better?”

“I’ve made it a point not to tell you anything,” she said, but without her usual anger.

The words stung, but she looked so distraught he couldn’t be too upset with her. He put his hand on her arm.

“Please, hear me out. I know you hate me. I want to know everything that happened, everything that I screwed up before with you. But first, can you … try to get to know the person I am now? Trust me, I don’t follow every dancer home from rehearsal,” he said with a laugh. When she didn’t laugh, he wiped the smile off his face. “I don’t want all this tension between us. It’ll show when we’re dancing. We need to find a way to work past this.”

“I think we’re working together just fine. Do you not think I’m doing a good job?”

“You’re doing an amazing job,“ he conceded. “But imagine how much better it would be if you didn’t despise me.” He laughed lightly and when she still didn’t, he looked at her helplessly. “Help me make it right,” he pleaded.

“You can’t make it right,” she whispered.

A few cars drove around them. One honked and Beckham took her elbow and guided her to the sidewalk.

“What did I do to you?” He turned around and put his hands against the brick. Before turning around again, he said: “Roxie, you have to tell me what happened.”

“I can’t.” She held her lips together to keep from crying.

“Then why did you come? Why did you agree to do this tour with me?” His stare pinned her to one spot.

“You and Anthony—you’re the best there is. I didn’t think I would make it! And then when Anthony called and I saw how much I’d make … I couldn’t turn that down! My sister had this obsessive, abusive, jerk boyfriend. She was with him for years and needed to get away from him, and … we’ve both struggled for a long time. I just … I should have, but I couldn’t say no.”

He turned and put his hands on her arms. “I’m glad you couldn’t. So your sister is staying in town too?”

She nodded.

“I’d love to meet her. She’s welcome to come hang at the warehouse anytime.” He took a deep breath and then went for it. “Can we call a truce? I’m not so bad…” His voice trailed off and he lost his thought. Her lips looked so perfect. If he could just get a little closer to her mouth…

He nearly stumbled when she took a step back. Such an idiot. Holding up both hands, he took his own step back and shook his head. He put his hands on his head and left them there.

“I don’t know what my problem is. I’m sorry. I can’t stop blowing it with you. Look, I will stick to keeping this professional … even though I feel something with you that I don’t want to … ignore,” Beckham paused, but when Roxie still didn’t speak, he continued. “I won’t cross the line with you anymore, Roxie. No more following-you stunts…”

“That would be good, thank you.” She gave a small smile to counter some of her sarcasm.

Her smile fell before he could blink. Dammit, she was so hard to read.

She took a deep breath and blew it out of her mouth. “Professional, you said.” Her voice shook at first, but grew stronger. “Yes, that’s the only way.” She nodded and avoided looking him in the eye. “We have to keep it professional. Deal?” She held her hand out.

He shook it and tried to ignore the heat he felt in her touch as they stared each other down. He should have been disappointed by what she’d said, but he saw warmth in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. It almost made him … hopeful.

Beckham lifted Roxie’s hand to his lips and planted a soft kiss on it.

There was the tiniest flicker of a smile before she scowled and pulled her hand away. “We made a deal!”

He raised his eyebrows and couldn’t stop the smile that covered his face. “What?”

Her hands were on her hips and her forehead was all scrunched up.

“What?” he repeated, laughing.

She waved her hand in the air, dismissing him. “Go home already. Use your Beckham Woods charm on someone else.”

“There’s the Roxie I know.” He laughed. “See you tomorrow, Rox. Wait—so you think I’m charming?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Lose the hat, never get such a short haircut again, and you might improve on the charm factor.”

“You don’t like my new haircut?”

She just continued to stare.

“So basically how I was before I got this new haircut, minus the hat?”

He took the hat off and threw it in the garbage can, then made a slight bow in front of her. When he stood back up, he raised his eyebrows and she rolled her eyes. “Right. I’ll get started on growing the hair. Got any good tips for that?” He backed away, still smiling and unable to look away from her.

She looked so cute angry.

Almost as good as she’d look in his bed.

Shit. Hopeless.

There had been additions to the wall. Several, in fact. She learned quickly that Beckham’s manager was worthless in providing any information; he was more of an annoyance. Beckham’s bodyguard, Howie, looked like a block but had ruined her plans more than once. Chloe, the airheaded brat who was just always there. The girl needed to get a life and do something irresponsible once in a while. Like, look away, or better yet, walk away, so trouble had a chance. And it angered her every time she looked at her masterpiece dart wall and saw the little boy. She had a larger picture of him and he was covered with tacks.

She’d known to be cautious of that bitch, Roxie. Having a cute little boy like Leo was even more of a draw than a puppy, although she hadn’t seen Roxie utilize that yet. To add salt to the wound, she’d seen Beckham and Roxie at the show the night before. They were like pure sex together. She’d been so angry by how turned on she got just watching them. Beckham was hers, and she didn’t share.

Roxie had some secrets. It was a good thing she was the only one who seemed to know them. She just needed to make sure it stayed that way.

The goody bird bitch Sparrow was always around Roxie now too. It was starting to seriously piss her off. One more person interfering with her target. If it became too big of a problem, Sparrow might have to get hurt just enough to go home. Ian deserved a little fun on the tour anyway. He was way too much man for that twit.

It was all a matter of spacing it out … one hit at a time.

She picked up her bow and shot a dart in the center of Roxie’s heart. It would feel good getting her out of the way.

But, first things first…

Leo.

She just had to bide her time.

The week before they left for three days at Christmastime, Anthony stepped everything up about a dozen notches. He worked them non-stop. They were ready for the tour. He gave them a list of instructions of what they could and couldn’t do while they were gone. Roxie was surprised they were even allowed to go home at all. Anthony made them swear they wouldn’t gain an ounce and to dance at least four hours every day to maintain their strength.

Being paired with Beckham so much isolated her from the rest of the group at times. It hadn’t been a problem—she got along fine with everyone, just had to work a little harder to keep it that way. She’d danced her whole life and was used to the competitiveness that drove the profession, so she wasn’t too worried about it. The only one who hadn’t warmed up to her at all was Brooke, but Roxie assumed that was just because Brooke wanted Beckham so badly she couldn’t see straight. Or Ian. Roxie wasn’t sure which man Brooke wanted the most.

She tried to not take it personally when Brooke was rude to her, which was often, but Brooke didn’t really like anyone but Beckham, Ian, and Anthony. The tour would be interesting when the six dancers were all crammed together in a bus—without anyone to soften the blow.

She’d gotten fairly close to Sparrow in a short amount of time. Sparrow was quiet at first, but once she was comfortable, the girl was hilarious. Roxie had never had so much fun with any girl, besides Chloe. They’d gone Christmas shopping a few times and hung out whenever Sparrow came to rehearsals, which was frequently once she met Roxie and Beckham’s sister, Sierra. Roxie really liked Sierra too—the three of them just clicked. Vanessa was okay, too, but it was hard to have much of a conversation with her. So Roxie was glad Sparrow and Sierra would be on the tour—friends would make the separation from Leo and Chloe a little easier.

Roxie had managed to maintain a friendly distance from Beckham, even though their bodies were in close contact all day long. He’d grown his hair out, like he said he would, and the thought that he would do that for her secretly thrilled her. She didn’t say a word about it, of course. He also mostly did what he promised, keeping everything professional, but in reality, every time he touched her it did things to her insides that got her all tangled up like old Christmas lights. Each day they were together was a steady buildup, until it was all Roxie could do to not wrap her legs around him and never let go.

The minute she would think a thought like that, she became stiff as a board and Anthony would yell at her to loosen up. She knew Beckham felt her weirdness, but he didn’t show it. It seemed as if he became even nicer and more fun to be around. He gave her space during the breaks, he was unfailingly kind and attentive, but no more so than he was with everyone. It was only when they danced that she thought he might still feel that … electricity. Everything else faded and it was just the two of them in their own little world.

The way he was being so kind to her despite her coldness made her feel like such a bitch. She’d never treated anyone the way she’d treated him. Ever. She’d be ashamed of herself if she didn’t know he deserved every bit of it. Still, it was hard when he was acting so nice. That was just it, he was probably acting. She’d never wanted to see him again, and here she was, behaving like someone she didn’t recognize. It was vital—she had to protect her heart from ever cracking even a tiny bit to Beckham Woods.

“Make it look like you want him more than life!” Anthony yelled at her.

Beckham smirked at her as she stared into his eyes.

“Do you, Roxie? Do you want me more than life?” he whispered.

He looked too serious for how playful his voice sounded. Roxie rolled her eyes at him and he gripped her tighter. Her head fell back and her mouth parted, as his hands skimmed the sides of her body, touching just the edges of where she really wanted him to touch her.

“Yes! Yes!” Anthony purred.

Of course, they were playing a part. But it took every ounce of willpower to not get caught up in the way her body reacted to his. It felt entirely too real.

She missed the beauty of San Diego. L.A. felt like a different world at times. She needed the trip home. Time to breathe. But the time away was just a tease. It went by so fast. Roxie, Leo, and Chloe spent every second with Joey, watching movies, going to the beach, and catching up on all the time they’d missed with him. Her parents walked around with pleased peacock posture, so happy to have all the littles back in the roost. Roxie ate whatever she wanted and besides going on one early morning jog, she barely moved. Anthony was going to kill her. On the drive back to L.A., she knew she’d have hell to pay the next morning. It was worth it. When they got home, she stretched out on the bed with Leo cuddled up to her, and they took a long nap together.

Roxie and Chloe brought more clothes from home this time, so it took longer to unpack than it had to pack. Leo played a video game while Roxie started a load of laundry.

The phone rang when she walked into the kitchen. She jumped and Leo, practically on her heels, jumped too. He’d had undivided attention from every adult for days and was feeling the letdown of getting back to normal.

She gave him a kiss on the forehead and answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Rox. How was your trip? It’s Beckham…”

He had never called her before, but sounded so nonchalant, she tried to sound the same.

“Hi! Um, great. Did you go home too? Or, where did-?”

“Sierra and I went to my mom’s. Anthony came over too … and David. The Sterlings came over for dessert. My mom wants to steal Journey.”

“I bet!” Roxie laughed and then wasn’t sure what to say next.

The clock ticked loudly in the kitchen as the silence stretched out between them.

“I missed you,” he said quietly.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“You missed being abused?” she asked.

He laughed. “I guess I must have,” he admitted.

“Professional,” she reminded him.

“I missed professionally feeling your body next to mine.”

She could hear the smile in his voice—the voice that dripped with seduction, reminding her of why he made millions. She cringed at how excited it made her to hear him saying those things to her. Hated knowing that she’d missed him too.

“I’m hanging up now.” Roxie tried to sound angry, but knew she wasn’t pulling it off very well.

Rehearsals were about as hard as Roxie had imagined they would be, but Anthony seemed to be extra forgiving. His reconciliation with David must have helped because, as hard as he tried, he just couldn’t seem to get agitated at any of them. It was a huge contrast to the week before Christmas.

When Roxie took off her sweatshirt to start rehearsals, Brooke lifted her eyes and pointed to Roxie’s behind. “Looks like you grew another ass while you were gone, Roxie.”

Roxie nodded. “Nice one, Brooke. Thanks.” She gave an extra little booty jiggle in Brooke’s direction and walked to where everyone else was gathered. No one else ever seemed to hear when Brooke decided to pounce, so it was a waste of time to do anything other than ignore her.

The money she was making was all that pushed Roxie. And being able to dance. Every day after rehearsal, it didn’t matter how exhausted and sore she was, she practically sailed home, so content to be doing exactly what she’d dreamed of her whole life. She knew she had already improved a thousand times since they began rehearsals, which was hugely gratifying. The only thing that could make this any better was if it weren’t with Beckham. But she had a feeling he was also what made it so good…

On New Year’s Eve, Beckham threw a huge party for everyone involved in the tour, including their significant others. When he invited everyone, he said he’d considered giving everyone a break from each other, but they were becoming a cohesive group and ringing in the year together would solidify that even more. Beckham had rented out a club that Roxie had seen once in People magazine. She didn’t know if she’d ever get used this craziness.

Chloe talked Roxie into going. She wanted to stay home with Leo, but Chloe argued with her, saying Leo would be asleep by 8:30 anyway. Like clockwork, he was out, so Roxie went to the party.

A waiter went by with a tray of drinks. Roxie grabbed one and downed it. She didn’t know why she felt on edge, but she wanted to shake it, and fast. She grabbed another drink and took her time with this one, watching everyone dance.

Brooke and Beckham caught her attention. He was holding her hand and twirling her out and she came back in with a vengeance, grinding up against him. He stepped back, putting space between them, and it made Roxie smile. He usually looked for every opportunity to be as close as he possibly could when they danced together.

“He never looks like he wants to get away from you,” Sparrow whispered in her ear.

Roxie looked over and smiled at Sparrow, then shook her head. “He’s good at what he does,” she said.

Sparrow’s eyes gleamed as she smiled bigger. “You’re beautiful, Roxie. And nice, smart, sexy … trust me, he notices.”

“Hey, you’re not playing matchmaker, are you? Nuh-uh, don’t get any ideas. Not interested.” Roxie took another gulp of her drink. “Where’s Ian?”

Sparrow made a face. “He’s changing Journey and himself. She had a blow-out and managed to ruin both of their outfits. Thankfully, Anthony found a shirt for him to borrow.”

Roxie pressed her lips together, but still busted up. “I can’t believe I missed that!”

Just then Ian walked toward them wearing a tight, short-sleeve denim cowboy shirt. Roxie and Sparrow lost it all over again. Roxie wiped her eyes as Ian reached them. He held Journey facing out, so she could see everything. Her feet kicked happily.

“Well howdy, Partner.” Sparrow could hardly get the words out.

Ian eyed the two of them and his lip quirked up to one side. He shook his head and looked down at Journey.

“You’re all happy now, aren’t you, pumpkin?” She looked up at him and gave him a dimpled grin. “Yeah,” he cooed at her. “I’d feel good too if I’d gotten rid of more than double my body weight in POO.”

Journey giggled and bounced up and down. When she saw her mom and Roxie laughing, she laughed and bounced harder.

Anthony asked Sparrow to dance, and Ian and Roxie chatted for a few minutes while she finished her drink. She moved toward the dance floor, unable to stay away for too long, ever. Justin and Vanessa were slow dancing and oblivious to everyone else. They were up and down, their lust and disgust for each other seesawing back and forth every day. Today appeared to be up for them. Brad and Shelton seemed to only have eyes for each other too.

Great. The tour is gonna be one huge hook-up, she thought. She wondered if Brooke and Beckham might be a possibility … if they’d ever had any of the intense moments she’d had with him. It didn’t matter; in fact, it might even help her to get past these confusing thoughts she kept having about him if he’d focus on someone else. Shoving Beckham out of her mind, she closed her eyes and began to move.

She didn’t even open her eyes when she felt his hand in hers. He brought her body flush with his and they moved without any thought. She felt his lips brush against her neck and then by her ear.

He whispered, “I don’t want to dance with anyone but you.”

She didn’t say a word, just allowed her movements to say all that needed to be said.

Just a few days after the New Year, the buses rolled out of the warehouse parking lot long before the sun came up. Headed to northern California, they were officially on the road.

“Think you can live with me on this bus the whole tour?” Beckham asked Sierra.

“Ugh. I don’t know,” Sierra groaned. “It’s a long time.

Beckham threw a pillow at her. “C’mon. You love me.”

She smiled. “I am glad to not be cramped with people I don’t know. Thank you for that.” She looked around. “And this is a pretty sweet bus.” She propped her feet up on the couch. “You’ve done really well for yourself, little brother.”

He sat down across from her and waited for a jibe to come.

It didn’t.

“You sure you’re ready to give all this up?” she whispered.

He’d told her to be careful of what she said, with the bus driver in close range. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust him exactly, but he’d learned the hard way that people could be bought fairly easily for a story. Just one more thing he was tired of … never knowing which one of his ‘friends’ would spill their guts to a gossip magazine.

“I … yeah. I think so.”

There was something about this tour that already seemed different, though. He felt more grounded, less anxious. He didn’t know if it was being around the most laid-back man he’d ever been around—Ian—or if it was the way the songs had all become new again. Roxie made him feel…

He searched for the word in his mind—what did she make him feel?—and realized it was simply that she made him feel at all. After years of numbing his feelings, his emotions were waking up, and it was as if he was trying to walk on feet that had fallen asleep. He was a prickly, stumbling mess, but it still felt better than being dead.

He turned the conversation to non-threatening topics and they chatted all the way to San Jose. It was always a little rough the first few days of the tour, getting into the swing of things, but he’d worked with the same crew the last three tours, so he had no worries. They were scheduled to eat a late lunch and then everyone would do a quick soundcheck. By next week, someone else would do the soundcheck for him and he would mostly be free during the day.

Roxie was the first one Beckham saw when he went to eat.

“Come sit with me,” he said before he could stop himself.

“Yeah, but you’re … Beckham Woods.” She put a shaking hand to her mouth and looked at him with awed eyes.

Beckham leaned in closer and gave her a cocky smile. “Did you just now notice that?”

“Maybe.” Roxie smirked.

She looked at the tables filling up around them. It was a large room to fit the camera crew, lights crew, stagehands, dancers, backup singers…

“Do you even know who all these people are?” she whispered. “Some I’ve never even seen before today!”

“Of course I do!”

“Are they gonna think it’s weird that we’re sitting together? Am I taking someone’s seat? It is kinda weird, right? Why are you being so nice to me?” She rambled and then clamped her hand over her mouth and turned those piercing eyes on him until he squirmed.

“I like you, okay?”

“You like me?” Roxie’s nose crinkled up.

“Yes. I do.” He tried to look in her eyes, but couldn’t stop looking at her mouth.

“You don’t know me, and I’ve been a bit spiteful to you,” she said.

“Oh, I got that. You’re a kitten with claws,” he teased softly. “But I think it’s an act.” He held up his hand when she started to argue. “Sparrow loves you, and I’ve come to think she’s a very wise person.”

“Sparrow loves everyone,” Roxie said, smiling fondly.

“No … she … wouldn’t if you were … cruel,” he stuttered. “I see you with everyone else and even though you’re sassy, you’re one of the nicest people here. I like all of what I know so far.”

She played with her ear lobe and looked almost shy. “How can you say I’m nice after the way I’ve treated you?” She shook her head. “An act, huh? Interesting.”

“Exactly,” he laughed, “you’re a mystery that I want to solve.”

“What fun would that be? A mystery is only fun because of the unknown. Once you figure it out, you’ll be on to other mysteries.”

He nodded. “I can see where you’d think that. But here’s the deal, Roxie,” he leaned in closer to her, “and let’s just stop talking ‘hypothetically’ about mysteries here … I want to know you. Period. The fact that you’re mysterious doesn’t make me want to know you more or less; in fact, it’s just getting in my way at the moment.”

She blinked fast and looked away. Her mouth curved just slightly, like she was holding back a grin.

“I hope you’ll like me a little better this time around,” he said.

And just like that, all the progress Beckham thought he was making fell apart, as her face clouded over and her eyes grew hard.

She stood up from the table and leaned over to whisper into Beckham’s ear.

“I work for you. You don’t know me. I don’t know you. We don’t need to know each other. Got it?”

She stood up straight and was about to walk away when Beckham put his hand on her arm.

“Roxie? You might say that now, but we’re just getting started onstage together. You tell me all I need to know when you dance with me. It’s a different beast with the energy of a crowd out there. You’ll be addicted to what that pulls out of you. Every. Single. Night.”

He grinned as her eyes got huge and laughed as she walked away. He couldn’t wait to get on that stage with her in just a few short hours.

The first show was a huge success, receiving acclaim from the critics:

‘Kept the audience hypnotized…’

‘Woods exuded an effortless charisma that Sterling matched perfectly. The two of them together are sizzling magic.’

‘Hearing the fusion of these two superstars is the ultimate experience…’

Beckham didn’t see Roxie the next day. He had an interview set up at the bus with Rolling Stone. He didn’t want to talk about his addictions anymore and it always went back to that or whoever he might be dating. He let his bodyguard, Howie, know exactly how much time he intended to spend with the journalist and when Howie should intervene.

After lunch, there was a knock and Howie walked in.

“Mirielle Wethers from Rolling Stone to see you?” Howie said.

“Send her in.”

A gorgeous redhead walked in wearing tight jeans and a T-shirt. Her cleavage was the first red flag. The determination in her eyes was the second. It should have been the other way around, but he knew her type. The two usually went hand-in-hand when the woman led with her breasts. He had it right the first time.

“Beckham Woods?” she purred. “Mirielle Wethers. Thank you for meeting me.”

“You’re new,” he said with an edge.

“Are you gonna hold it against me?” She sat down on the couch next to him, leaning forward.

Beckham groaned. “Tell Matt I’m holding this against him. The bastard.” Beckham knew Matt, his favorite journalist at the magazine, was trying to bait him with an overly eager sexpot who was willing to do whatever necessary to boost her career off of this interview.

Mirielle stuck her candy red lips out in a pout, pretending to be wounded. “Aw, come on. Let’s not get off on the wrong foot. There are much better ways to get off…” She licked her lips slowly.

Beckham moved to the other couch. “Shall we start the interview?”

After twenty minutes of trying to steer Mirielle’s line of questioning to something other than his rehab stint and the actresses he’d last been seen with, he stood up.

“If we can’t talk about the music, I’m done here.”

She stood up and touched his arm. “I need this interview, please give me something…”

“If you can’t find anything worth writing about in the music, either I’m doing something wrong or you’re not meant to do this.”