Free Hung by Holly Hart Page B

know that Future Proof Records has been sniffing around about buying you guys out – this album’s going to go platinum a dozen times over. This is the kind of album that puts you in a position to buy them , not the other way around."
    I listened intently. For all he was Clay's manager, Mike was clearly a smart cookie – because I knew exactly what he was doing. He was intimating that it wasn't just Clay's job on the line, Fred's was too. And judging by the quiet on the other end of the line, Fred knew it.
    "You've made your point," Fred said gruffly. "You'll get your album. Trust me, your boy is on his last legs. One more screw up and your boy's out the door – understood?"
    "Understood," Mike and Clay echoed in unison – but it was too late, Fred had already hung up. Mike planted his hands on the table, let his head slump forward and groaned. "What the hell have you got me into now, Clay?"
    Now that the adrenaline that had been pumping through my system while we were on the phone to the CEO of Atlantic Records was beginning to ebb and fade away, I was already coming to regret my decision. Mike looked at me, then at Clay.
    "You're crazy. Both of you, you’re nuts. And you know what? You deserve each other."

12

Clay
    M ike turned on his heel , grabbed his briefcase and slammed the door. I'd never seen him this angry before, but I knew him – I knew he'd cool off, eventually. He wasn't the one I had to worry about.
    Alicia was a different story altogether. Her face was drained of color, and by her pallid complexion, I could tell she was in shock.
    Luckily, she broke the silence, because I had no idea what to say. How the hell was I supposed to broach the topic of the fact that we were now, for all intents and purposes, engaged?
    "What the fuck, Clay?"
    It was more eloquent a comment than I was expecting given I'd just thrown her in at the deep end. I'd expected much worse. On the other hand, judging by her expression, the worst was yet to come.
    I knew I deserved whatever she was going to say, I just didn't know whether I'd be able to sit there and take her saying it. It wasn't my style. There was something about being berated that always got my hackles up, and just because it was coming from a woman I wanted to fuck more than life itself didn't mean that I wouldn't react badly.
    "Should I say sorry?" I asked, genuinely being serious. I'd say it if she wanted me to. I wouldn't mean it, though, not really. As far as I was concerned, everything had worked out well. My career was safe – more or less – Alicia's shot at stardom was secure, and I'd just figured out a way of spending more time with a woman who, even though she was apparently unable to resist my physical charms, still seemed to despise me.
    "You wouldn't mean it, would you?" she replied bitterly. "How the hell have I got myself into this situation?" she asked rhetorically. I decided to keep my mouth shut, rightly sensing that there would be nothing I could say that had a shot at helping.
    "I can't do this," Alicia finally said, looking torn. "No way. I'm going to have to go to the record label and tell them the wedding's off, or something. Or do I tell them the whole truth?" She closed her eyes and slapped her palm down hard on the table in frustration. "And I fucked you, too. Jesus, girl, have some self-control."
    "That was more than a fuck," I replied, finally feeling affronted. "Surely you felt that? That was special, Alicia. It was something else."
    "Oh, you can't be serious." She laughed viciously. "I know your type. You saw some poor, innocent girl who just wanted to make a career in the business and thought you could have your way with her, didn't you?"
    "It wasn't like—"
    "God, how stupid could I be?" she continued. "You’ve probably done this a hundred times, haven't you?"
    "No—"
    Again she cut me off. "Are you seriously going to sit there and tell me I'm special? That I'm different? Come on, Clay – we both know better."
    The thing was, it