Free Tangled Mess by K.L. Middleton Page A

serves the best burgers in the world. Swear to God. Let me buy you one, and we’ll catch up on old times.”
    “A hole in the wall, huh? Where’s this place?”
    “It’s called Jimbo’s, in Santa Ana. It’s a real dive , but their burgers are killer and if you like southwestern food, the guacamole is excellent.”
    She grabbed an electric clipper, and began trimming the sides of my hair. “Okay. What about your security guys? Are they going to be joining us?”
    “ Fuck no. We’ll ditch them. You’ve got a back door in this place, right?”
    Her eyes widened. “Can’t you just tell them to go home?”
    “ No. I’m not the one who writes their paychecks. They belong to American Icon and they pretty much demand round-the-clock security on me. It’s a real pain in the ass.”
    “M aybe we should just forget it. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”
    I grinned. “You realize who you’re talking to, right?”
    She laughed. “I suppose it would be odd if you sta yed out of trouble, wouldn’t it?”
    “Damn right , so don’t try and change me, woman.”
    “Well,” she said stepping back. She folded her arms under her chest. “Looks like it’s too late.”
    I turned towards the mirror, and nodded my approval. She’d trimmed the sides short and left it a little longer on top. If I got rid of the five-o’clock shadow, I’d probably looked more like a stockbroker than the hell-raising rocker who walked in earlier. I ran my fingers through the top of my hair, and smirked. “Damn and I didn’t think I could get any better looking.”
    She snorted . “You’re such a goon.” She then sprayed something into the top of my hair and raked her hands through it. “This is a texturizing spray. It creates more a little dimension in the top your hair.”
    “Are you saying I should buy this?” I asked as she handed me the bottle.
    “Only if you want to keep your hair looking this way.”
    I cocked my head to the side. “What if I hired you as my personal stylist? Then you could make sure my hair looks this way every day.”
    “I’m surprised you don’t have a personal stylist already.”
    I grinned wickedly. “I do but I much prefer your hands touching me instead of his.”
    “ Ah… Well, thanks for the offer but obviously that’s not even remotely feasible.”
    “Why not? ” I asked, the idea sounding better by the moment. “Seriously, I’d pay you triple of what you’re making here. Hell, I’ll even double that offer if you’d be willing to come to Europe with me when I tour.”
    “O bviously that’s very tempting. But Ransom, obviously you know that I’m involved with the show right now.”
    “ Yeah, and so am I, but Taffy, there is life after American Icon. Don’t forget that.”
    “ I know,” she sighed. “My chances are probably pretty slim of winning the competition, anyway.”
    “I’m not going to lie- the competition you’re performing against is stiff. There are some really talented artists you’re competing against.”
    She studied my face for a minute and then raised her chin. “Ransom, tell me the truth - you don’t think I have what it takes to win, do you? That’s why you voted ‘no’.”
    It was obvious that she thought I didn’t think so , and the wounded look on her heart-shaped face was wrecking me. Fuck, I hated being an asshole, but, it was for her good. “It’s not that you’re a bad singer,” I replied, choosing my words carefully. The fact was that her voice had taken me by surprise. It was strong, sexy, and had literally, made me speechless. There was no way I’d tell her that, however. At least not until the competition was over. If she was still interested in being a singer, I’d have her back, and help her make the right decisions. Until then, I’d have to lie through my teeth. “You’re better than most. But this is American Icon. The best of the best. Not only do you have to sing like an angel, but you need the confidence, and the stage