Beautiful Crazy Part 22

"His a.s.shole board of directors sent that guy behind Mason's back to make sure he closed the deal. When Revell reported back about your arrangement, they decided to take it into their own hands." Jax tilted his chin, daring her to call him a liar. Realization slid from her scalp down her back like an ice cube.

"He didn't know," she whispered. Not a question. A statement of understanding. "But what about Tina?"

Jax frowned. "What about her?"

"She was working with the GEM guy. Before and after I let her go. She acted like it was no big deal. She understood. Blah, blah, blah. Did Mason know she was stabbing me in the back?"

He laughed. She scowled back. "I'm pretty sure Mason would have shut that s.h.i.t down if he'd found out. He made his feelings about you pretty clear. After LA, he sent an email to Joe, saying he was withdrawing GEM's proposal, and you were a far better choice for the band. Sounds like he withdrew because someone from his company interfered and broke your agreement. Seems fair to me."

The acid in Kevan's belly threatened to crawl back up. "Then why did he leave me and the tour? Why didn't he stay and explain?"

Had she even given him the chance to explain?

"Don't you think you owe it to him to find out? Do you love him?"

She nodded. She had a.s.sumed Mason was betraying her, and he'd let her think it. She had proved she didn't trust him, and that's all he'd ever asked of her.

"Then you need to go after him, make this right."

"Even if I do love him, Jax, we're so different. Each time I put myself out there, I get screwed. Every time. What if it's me?"

"Stop with the pity party, Kevan. It's not your style. Sometimes you have to take the big risk. Did you really ever put yourself out there for f.u.c.king what's-his-professor-jacka.s.s-name? You're better off without him, but did you?"

"No, I didn't. But this right here is the exact reason I don't get my hopes up."

"If it wasn't meant to be, it wasn't meant to be. And honestly, Mason would have to be a f.u.c.king dolt not to want you. You're the full package-sweet, s.e.xy as h.e.l.l, smart, the real deal." Jax leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I'm not even sure he deserves you. But someday I hope someone looks at me the way you looked at him."

"I really screwed it up, didn't I?"

"Hey, I don't know. But I gotta get onstage. Think about what I said." Jax turned to walk out the door before she grabbed his hand and tugged him back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in tight for a hug.

"Thank you. For everything."

Two hours later, Kevan was in the middle of the end-of-tour party in a casino hotel restaurant. Still nursing a hangover, she sipped her standard cranberry juice, trying to hold a conversation with the record exec from the hardcore label. His name was Benji or Banjo or something. He was clearly interested in the band and had even been talking to Joe about a full alb.u.m and supporting tour after h.e.l.lfire.

Everything she and Mason had worked so hard to accomplish for the band had happened. They'd increased their fan base, they'd engaged fans in the different communities they played, and she'd managed to ramp-up both their traditional and social media engagement. They'd even exposed Manix to new markets by visiting college campuses and playing free, impromptu acoustic sets.

Yep, they'd been so successful. But at what cost? Was a broken heart worth their success?

Unfortunately for Kevan, she was no closer to coming to a conclusion about what to do about Mason and the whole d.a.m.n kerfuffle than she had been after the conversation with Jax. She looked up from Brody? Benson? Bailey? Yes, Bailey. He slurred his words as his gla.s.sy eyes appraised her and he raised a beer to his lips. He liked her. He'd told her so with both his words and his grabby hands. Thought she was a "pretty little thing." Said they should celebrate Manix Curse in style back in his suite at the Circus Circus. Yeah. Like that was gonna happen.

He wasn't bad looking. Actually, he was kind of cute, and she wanted nothing but to forget all about the big bear of a man that haunted her every thought. Maybe she could lose herself in some random affection. Bailey looked at her expectantly. He must've said something and was looking for a response. Should she give her demure, coy smile? Or the more overtly s.e.xual one? Or, how about the polite one that said she was flattered but not interested?

No matter how she tried to focus on what was happening around her, in that very moment, she couldn't stop thinking of Mason. Mason hadn't lied to her. Mason hadn't thrown her under the bus. Mason hadn't tried to ruin her. In fact, he'd walked away from the whole arrangement and basically handed her the band. Why hadn't he tried to explain? Why just leave without a fight?

Maybe she was the one at fault. She'd expected his betrayal from the beginning. And he'd known that. Her sadness and anger had created a toxic c.o.c.ktail she'd swallowed down and spit back at him. Her pain had clouded everything. And she'd chased him away with cruel words and a total lack of faith in him. In them.

d.a.m.n. She jumped up, catching her tottering gla.s.s before spilling juice all over. Understanding seeped into her bones in the midst of giggling fangirls, beer pong, and loud metal music. What had she done? Mason hadn't run out on her because he was a liar and a cheater. The one man she'd ever truly loved hadn't left her. She'd left him before he could do it to her.

Across the room, Jax must have caught the perplexed look on her face, because he gently patted the girl on his lap, and she stood, pouting. He smiled and kissed her cheek, then walked toward Kevan with a smug look on his handsome face.

"Well, gorgeous, are we done here or what?"

"I think so."

"Took you long enough. Let's get the f.u.c.k out of here and get your a.s.s home."

Chapter 24.

Mason's plan was now clear, his path defined. Using his hands-free phone system, he called Joe.

"I was two seconds from calling you," Joe said, followed by a good-natured chuckle.

"Yeah? What about?"

"A meeting. Want to talk to you about the tour and look at our options."

They spent a few minutes catching up on the end of the tour and discussed the possible recording contract. Joe was a good guy. He really seemed to have the band's best interests at heart.

"You know, I'm wondering when you're going to ask about Kevan." Joe's usual cheerful tone turned serious.

"How is she?" Mason asked, surprised.

"Your girl is walking around like a zombie. She thinks she has everyone fooled, but she's just putting the time in, smiling when appropriate and playing the good marketing and PR rep that she is. Last night, your record guy was pawing and panting all over her. She was polite but then suddenly hopped up and left. Practically ran from the room with Jax."

A branch of cold dread wound up his spine and squeezed. Mason knew she was home, since an email had popped up on his phone, alerting him of the RV's return. But he hadn't known she'd left with Jax.

"She hasn't called me." He paused. Perplexed and unsure what move to make next. "For once in my life, I don't know what to do."

Mason understood her misery. He lived his own version. He hoped she could hold it together until he could fix all this. If she would let him.

"My suggestion is to grovel, beg, bribe her. Whatever it takes. That girl is special. You know it. I know it."

Mason laughed. "Oh, I'm fully aware of Kevan Landry's special something. But I don't know how to fix this."

"Come to the meeting. Bring your A game."

Afterward, Mason made a lengthy call to his attorney with some specific instructions regarding his employment termination, as well as some issues about his future plans.

He hung up as he pulled into the parking lot behind Tatuaggio. He reached over to the pa.s.senger seat for the printout he needed and a CD fell out of his bag as he grabbed the beaten leather briefcase-a gift from Jami when he'd received his business degree. He picked up the disc and started to throw it on the seat, when he recognized the pretty rockabilly woman on the cover. Imelda May's Mayhem. Kevan loved Imelda May and had everything she'd ever recorded. He'd admired her lovely voice and the upbeat tempo of the music. Kevan loved her voice but also her style.

He turned the disc over in his hand and recognized Kevan's impatient scrawl on the note taped to the back.

To my own Big, Bad, Handsome Man. This copy is all for you (just like the song). -K Kevan must have bought the CD and slipped it into his briefcase for him to discover at a later date. A surprise. Cunning, sweet girl. She was so...so what? Giving? Considerate? Impulsive? s.e.xy? Beautiful? Yes, yes, yes, and yes. Check all of the above. Even then she'd been thinking about him and his offhanded comment that he liked the music. Had anyone ever paid that much attention to his wants or his interests? No, never. Just her.

A knot formed in his chest. Mason chided himself for letting her go, for walking out without fighting back. In all his life, he'd never given up so easily. He'd been so angry that she hadn't trusted him enough to listen to him. The hurt in her eyes and the quiver in her voice had nearly brought him to his knees. He didn't want to be the cause of any more anguish for her. So he'd walked away, his anger and hurt dictating words he'd never meant. Not giving up, just to regroup and figure out how to win her back. He gripped the steering wheel tighter. Except, dummy, Kevan would look at it as desertion. Another user and abuser leaving her alone.

Time to fix this s.h.i.t.

After hours of lying on his stomach, the buzz of the tattoo machine, combined with cla.s.sic rock playing over the speakers, had dulled the constant ache in his chest. The sharp piercings of the tiny needles had permanently etched away the past and drawn, literally, a new future on his back.

"Endorphins are something else, aren't they?" Tony asked, breaking Mason's almost meditative state. "Numbs all kinds of pain."

Mason grunted.

The older man chuckled and wiped something across Mason's back. "But some aches can't be fixed with ink, my friend."

"I know where you're going with this," Mason said. "And I'm not trying to fix anything with a tattoo, Tony. I just want her to see how serious I am."

"How serious are you?"

"Have you ever been in love?" The buzzing stopped as he heard Tony clean the needles and switch colors.

"Yep." The machine started humming again, and he felt the needles stab into his skin. "Callie. The orneriest, bossiest ballbuster you ever met. Loved her from the day I met her, when I was a twenty-three-year-old h.e.l.l-raiser, until the day she died of breast cancer three years ago."

"So you know, then," Mason said quietly.

"Yeah. I know. I know Kevan is pretty f.u.c.king special, and she deserves to be treated like it. Life's not easy for women like her. Women like Callie. They've had to work hard to stay ahead, and they don't like to ask for help. Ever."

Mason grunted. No s.h.i.t.

"But you'll thank the universe every day you have her in your life. Every d.a.m.n day." Mason could tell Tony was thinking about his deceased wife, the love of his life, as he lathered on the ointment and taped plastic wrap over his shoulder. "You're all done, big guy."

His muscles tight from lying on the ma.s.sage table for so long, Mason got up and stretched his arms and rolled his head from side to side. "Thanks, Tony," he said, catching the artist's gaze. "For everything."

Tony's laugh rang out in the empty shop. "What's your plan?"

Mason paid him and smiled. "Gonna go get my girl."

Less than an hour later, Mason stood and watched Kevan come through the door to Joe's office. He could see her through the gla.s.s wall of Joe's conference room. She put her back to him as she stopped to hug and then chat with the receptionist. It gave him the opportunity to admire what a truly magnificent backside the woman had. When she glanced over her shoulder, their eyes connected, hers narrowed in question, then sadness. Today, she was even more stunning than when she'd almost landed in his lap two weeks ago. Mason was sure his fantasies of her glorious curvy body and full mouth had grown to imaginary proportions. Nope. Not even close. She was so f.u.c.king beautiful, striding into the room with her head held high, he could feel his c.o.c.k harden just looking at her. Suddenly, he wasn't the fierce businessman, he was a crushing boy again.

And she was falling, again. This was starting to become a trend. Kevan falling. Mason catching. His hands grabbed her small waist and steadied her until she laid her hands flat against his chest and pushed back. Mason couldn't help smiling at her bravado. His girl, so f.u.c.king proud.

"You need to stop wearing those heels, darlin'. You're gonna hurt yourself."

"I don't need you to keep catching me." So defensive. Definitely not a good sign.

"But I will. Keep catching you, I mean."

She tilted her head to look into his eyes, then swiftly turned to shake Joe's outstretched hand and exchange greetings before sitting at the table next to Mason and across from Joe.

"The band's not here, because they're still catching up on their sleep. The tour took it out of them." He winked. Both Kevan and Mason nodded. Yep. Took it out of all of them.

"I'm gonna get to the point here. We, Manix Curse and their management"-he paused and smiled-"would like to thank both of you for being good sports and coming on the road with us with no notice. Your enthusiasm and professionalism is both noted and appreciated." His tongue drew across his lower lip, and his hand fiddled with the pen on the table.

"First, it's important you know we have no intention of employing the services of Global Entertainment Marketing. They are too big for our band and don't have the right experience, or culture, to support and promote a heavy metal band."

Kevan exhaled, and Mason tried to hold the smile threatening to transform his mouth. She should be feeling relief and hope right about now. Maybe waiting for the "but..." And here it came.

"But-" Joe looked from Mason to Kevan. Mason could see her shoulders slump slightly. Poor Kevan, there was always a but for her. He looked directly at Mason. "But, we were extremely impressed with your connections; the tour and sponsorship opportunities you presented were phenomenal." He paused. Mason heard Kevan swallow but didn't dare turn toward her or pat her like he wanted to. No, he had to allow her to maintain her shield. For now.

"And Kevan"-Joe turned toward her and glanced at a sheet of paper in front of him on the table-"your skills with social media, public relations, and building the band's fan base far exceeded any expectation we ever had. You are truly amazing. I mean, look at these numbers." He pushed the sheet of data across the table between Mason and Kevan.

Mason knew Kevan's nature was biting at the bit to ask questions, push Joe to reveal his decision. Just wait, gorgeous. Patience. But she held her tongue and made the effort to peruse the sheet of numbers she was already very familiar with. Her face was a mask of interest, but her long neck was rigid, and her knee bounced under the table.

When she looked up, Joe continued, "And now that Mason has left GEM"-Kevan's head whipped around to look at Mason, her eyes saucers and her full, pouty mouth open in an O-"we'd like you to consider joining forces, together, as our marketing and public relations team." And there it was. The zinger.

Her head snapped back to Joe so quickly that Mason mused she might get whiplash.

"I don't understand. You want both of us to work for you?" She turned to Mason and whispered, "And you left GEM?"

He blinked slowly but said nothing.

"What? Why?" she stuttered. G.o.d, she was so beautiful. "Because of Steve?" He nodded. Still waiting. "And Tina?"

He smiled.

"But you loved your job, Mason. It was everything."

"No, Bettie, not anymore."

Joe stood. "I'm sure you have a lot to discuss. I'd like a call by tomorrow morning to let me know whether you're interested in my proposition. And we can get together later this week to discuss the details."

Joe made excuses-something about needing to catch up on legal work-and ushered them from his office. Without saying a word, they walked to the parking lot.

Ah, I love walking behind this woman. Because right there was the coup de grace, the woman's a.s.s. She looked over her shoulder and caught him staring at her b.u.t.t, definitely not for the first time. She gave him no indication of her feelings. Her walls were up nice and tight.

As she stomped to her beat-up Volvo, Mason caught her arm and handed her the small stack of stapled papers he'd been holding.

"You have exactly one hour, Kevan, and then I'm coming for you."

"We should talk first. I just...I mean...I'm..." she stuttered.

"We will. In one hour, I'll meet you at your apartment."

"What does that mean, Mason?"