Free Girl in Love by Caisey Quinn Page B

feelings and all that other pretentious preschool bullshit—to make their career what they want it to be. So you want more platinum-selling albums? You convince Kylie Ryans to do this The Other Side of Me Tour. Or you can walk away from this and let these twelve-year-olds take over country music and put your ass out to pasture.”
    She stood to leave and Trace closed his eyes. An entourage surrounding some kid whose eyes had been glued to his cellphone had nearly plowed him down on his way into the meeting.
    “That’s Collin Hanes,” Pauly had informed him. “He’s sixteen and his album is number one on iTunes.”
    The little shit looked like he was there for Take Your Kid to Work Day.
    Trace opened his eyes and let out a loud breath. “I won’t play games or trick her into this. But I’ll try. I’ll do what I can to try and convince her.”
    “Good,” Maude said as she placed a hand on the door. “So will I.”
    Trace groaned and leaned back in his chair. Damn. This was not good. This was the opposite of good.
    Pauly cleared his throat as he stood. “As your manager, I’d say Kylie Ryans might be the best thing for your career at this point. As your friend, one who actually gives a damn about you and your sobriety, I’d say she’s probably the worst person you could involve yourself with—personally or professionally.”
    “Thanks, Pauly. That’s real helpful.”
    His manager squeezed his shoulder lightly as he passed. “I know. But I also happen to know she’s recording at Bluebird Studios tonight if you wanted to swing by there. Maybe a heads-up from you would come across better than Maude or the label blindsiding her.”
    Maybe. Or maybe she’d tell him to go straight to hell where he belonged.
     
    B LUEBIRD S TUDIOS was empty save for a few cars in the parking lot. Trace let himself in the entrance for artists and nodded at Molly at the front desk.
    “Hey, sunshine. Would you happen to know which studio Kylie Ryans is in this evening?”
    “Hm. Well, Mr. Corbin, that depends. Is she expecting you?”
    He gave the blonde a wink and a grin. “I don’t know if anyone could ever be expecting me, darlin’. I’m kind of hard to handle.”
    The receptionist eyed him appreciatively. And then her face transformed into a mask of disappointment. “So the rumors are true then? About you and her?”
    “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire, sweetheart. Is she in D? I know she prefers D.” He was guessing, but he preferred it. He figured she probably did, too.
    “Yeah, she’s in D. Go on back. But you snuck in if anyone asks. And you owe me,” she called out after him.
    He made a mental note to send Molly some flowers or chocolates. She was a sweet girl. Pretty, too. Just not the one he wanted.
    Once he’d reached Studio D, he stepped into the listening booth and nodded at Kylie’s manager, a guy with glasses he’d seen around a few times. Before he had time to introduce himself properly, her voice filled the room.
    I’ll set your night on fire. I’m a live wire. I’m a live wire.
    Boy, was that the truth.
    He watched as she belted out the rest of her song, a fast one about how she was untamable. Watching her while being surrounded by her sultry voice made it hard to swallow. Or think. Or breathe. So he glanced down at his phone and pretended to give a shit about something on it until the music stopped.
    “Mr. Corbin?” Kylie’s manager came over and shook his hand. “Chaz Michaelson. Kylie’s manager. What can I do for you?”
    “Nice to meet you, Mr. Michaelson. Kylie’s said nothing but good things about you.” The man cleared his throat and Trace grinned. “Don’t feel bad if you can’t say the same thing to me. I deserve it, whatever she’s said.”
    “She has a bit of a temper,” her manager said, glancing back to where she stood glaring at them on the other side of the glass.
    “That she does.” Trace raised his hand in a small wave that she didn’t return. The force of