Free The Forbidden Beat (A Stepbrother Romance) by Jillian Sterling Page A

they're banking on their decades of experience."
    I crossed my arms. "I'm not compromising."
    Presley pouted. "What do you think, Jett?"
    "I think we should wait until we hear the actual
offers," she said.
    "You were always the sensible sister," I said.
    Presley pouted. "Yeah, no fun."
    "That's just because she didn't side with you."
    "Girls, please, it's like you're all teens again—"
Vince said with a laugh.
    Presley motioned towards me. "Well..."
    I stuck my 19-year-old tongue out at her.
    "What I am trying to say is that Jett is right,"
he said. Jett's face turned smug. "We need to let these guys battle it out
then a decision based on what they are offering. Having two options is better
than one. WE stand to get a better contract if there's a bidding war."
    "Is this the royal we?" Presley asked. She batted
her eyelashes.
    "I want to help," he said, adding, "And no
management fee."
    "Well that's refreshing," Dion said as he and Rafe
stormed into the room. "He's taking, what, a 25% cut from our
income?"
    "We've been through this Dion," Vince said,
turning to his son. "Anthem made me more money than I can spend. That 25%
goes into an account for you boys. It's near impossible for bands to have
longevity these days. You blow through your dough now; you'll have nothing
later."
    "You're loaded," Dion said, snatching the
champagne bottle and taking a long pull. "You can't take it with you,
Dad."
    "Shit happens," Vince said. "Don't count on
Anthem's money."
    "Song royalties—"
    "Split between five band members?"
    "You got hosed," Rafe said. "You were the
primary songwriter."
    "We were a band, a team, even split. We decided that
from the start," Vince said. He leveled a pointed look at Presley, Jett
and me. "That's how a band stays in it for the long haul."
    "This sudden poverty have anything to do with a wife or
two?" Dion asked.
    "Divorce is expensive," his father said through
thin lips.
    "So is a second wife," Dion muttered.
    If Vince heard it, he chose to ignore it, focusing on
Presley, whose melodramatic yawn captured everyone's attention.
    "Oh excuse me," she said. "I am just
exhausted."
    "Touring's tough," Vince said. "The
schedule's brutal."
    "The schedule is fine," she insisted. "I work
out. My body is primed for exertion."
    Jett smirked. "Presley, was that a double
entendre?"
    Presley glared at her. "I meant it as a fact. I am
exhausted because I am sleeping like shit. Those beds in that bus are
awful."
    "My bed is fine," I said.
    "Of course it's fine for you," she said.
    I crossed my arms. "Yes, for me. And for Jett. And for
Devlin and he's not young."
    "You just don't get it," she said. "You like camping.
You don't mind sleeping in terrible places. I just—ugh." She shuddered
with her entire body.
    "You do have dark circles under your eyes," Vince
noted.
    "Here we go," Dion griped.
    "What?" Vince asked.
    "Nothing," he said, though he didn't bother hiding
his pout.
    Presley's lower lip trembled. "Dark circles?" she
whispered.
    "Oh come on, Pres," I said, looking to Jett for a
little back up.
    She just shrugged her shoulders. "It was bound to
happen, Nik," she said. "I'm surprised it took this long."
    "It's been two nights on the bus," I argued.
    "Exactly," Presley sniffed. "And after two
nights I already look haggard."
    "No one said haggard," I corrected her.
    "Not those exact words no," she said. "But
still, he may well have. And that first night, we were up for hours."
    I glared at Dion. "That situation will not repeat
itself, right?"
    "I cannot lose any more sleep. My body won't function.
My voice will blow out. The tour will be over," she moaned. A single tear
dropped down her left cheek, followed by another down her right. Presley was
going to be an Oscar winning actress someday.
    Vince wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders.
"I'll get you a room at the hotel."
    "Why don't you get us all rooms, then?" Rafe
asked.
    "Because the label isn't paying for you guys to trash
the Four Seasons," Vince said.
    "But