89

Tony
I have the prickle of trepidation before we get back to the Bellissimo. When we walk in the main lobby of the casino and run smack into Junior Tacone, I understand why.
“Tony.” He strides forward, his face hard and angry.
I immediately step in front of Pepper, shielding her with my body, as if Junior held a gun pointed at her.
He jabs a finger into my chest. “I need a word with both of you.” I grind my teeth as I extend my arm, indicating the offices behind the reservation desk.
There’s a manager at her desk in one and I jerk my head at her. “Give us a minute.”
She stands up quickly and scurries out. I catch Pepper’s hand and squeeze it, leading her into the office after Junior, but still keeping her behind me.
“What the fuck is going on? I thought you had this shit under control.”
“We had a hiccup, but I’m managing it.”
“Oh really? Cuz I get here and find out the Pepper Heart show’s been cancelled for a week, and then I see a goddamn video all over the fucking internet of that bitch playing at the Paramount. So you tell me how you’re managing it.”
I go still. “Do not call her a bitch.”
No one talks to Junior Tacone like that and lives. I know that. He knows I know it. Which means he hears me draw a line in the dirt, loud and clear. He’s not gonna touch her, he’s not gonna disrespect her. And if he does, it will be over my dead body.
Pepper’s hand turns icy in mine, which makes me even madder.
“I see.” His eyes narrow, tone turns from hot to frosty. He nods slowly. Yeah, he does see.
I make an attempt to dial back my aggression. “With total respect, Junior, I have it handled. You will get your money.” I meet his gaze evenly.
“Oh yeah? Tell me how that’s gonna work if she’s not playing at my casino.”
It’s not his casino. It’s Nico’s, but I sure as hell don’t argue that point.
“She lost her voice. I took her to the Paramount and she drummed up publicity playing guitar with The Sores. Now everyone on the planet knows she’s in Vegas and we have plenty of tickets for them to buy. Her appearance tonight only helps us.”
“I don’t like getting fucked around,” Junior spits. “I want an extra hundred grand for this fuck-fest delay.”
I only hesitate for a moment. Pepper can make that money in two nights if I can get her shows to sell out. “You’ll have it.” I turn around and propel her forward, open the door and get us the fuck out of there.
“I’d better!” he calls after me.
I stop and turn around. “Junior, have I ever let you down?”
He gives me a hard look for a long moment. “No,” he finally says.
“I have it handled. Swear to la madonna.”
Junior’s shoulders relax, ease seeps back into his posture. “Good. Good, Tony. I’m countin’ on you.”
“Thank you, Junior. Buona notte.”
I lead Pepper away, my body as cold as hers. I walk off swiftly and don’t look back. Junior’s way of doing business is still old school, like his dad’s. He’s volatile and deadly and not someone any of us want to tangle with-his own brothers included.
I lead her to the elevators and put my key card in to get to her suite. She pulls her hand out of mine, retreating into herself, a mask of nothingness on her face.
“I’m sorry about that.” We’re alone in the elevator, but she doesn’t look over, just watches the doors.
I put my knuckle under her chin. “Hey. Look at me.”
When she lifts her eyes, there’s accusation in her gaze, which I probably deserve. There’s something else too-misery.
“I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you, songbird.” I say it softly, but it’s an oath. I need her to believe me.
She pulls her chin away from me, not with a quick jerk, but a sad, slow withdrawal.
I want to gather her up in my arms, protect her from the world, but she’s rejecting me. I can’t bring back the happiness she found at the Paramount. I can’t even replicate that moment. It wasn’t about me.
The only thing I can do is protect her from Junior and get her out of here as soon as possible. Contemplating any more-believing I could make her happy or try to be a boyfriend to her? That’s impossible.
Just like my mom, she’ll never forgive me for what I am.
Pepper
The clusterfuck only gets worse when Tony drops me off at my suite. I hold my keycard up to the door and walk in only to find Hugh inside.
Fucking Hugh.
Tony’s already walking away, but my first instinct is to call him back. Not to have to face Hugh on my own. But that’s stupid. Tony and the Tacones are the enemy, not Hugh. Hugh’s just the idiot who got us into this mess.
“Where in the hell have you been? Oh wait, I know.” He holds up his phone, where a video of me playing with The Sores is running. “You were playing at the Paramount. Do you have any idea how that’s going to look to the Tacones?”
Actually, yes. I just found out first hand how it looks to one of them. A very scary, very lethal one. Someone Tony felt the need to protect me from, judging by the way he shoved me behind his big body. And if Tony’s scared, this guy is a serious badass.
I don’t walk to talk about any of this with Hugh. Not after what he did last night-and his half-assed texted apology today did not make me forgive him-and not after what I just came from.
I drop my purse and pull out the notepad. I was with Tony, I write, then flip it around for him to read. I don’t bother telling him that fact didn’t excuse it with the Tacones, because I don’t want to deal with his hissy fit.
He stands up from the bed-my bed, and why in the hell does he have a key to my room?-and walks toward me, his face grim. “What exactly is going on with you and Tony Brando? Are you”-his lip curls with disgust-“seeing him?”
I grip my pen, annoyed at having to write this when it’d be so much faster to speak. Seeing? What are you, eighty?
“You know what I mean,” he splutters. “Dating? Fucking?”
Something about him using the word fucking makes my belly turn inside out. I’m disgusted and furious. I want to kick him in the shins and tell him to get out. Fire his ass straight to Norway.
I write so big the words scrawl off the page. None of your f-ing business.
He grabs the pen from me and throws it on the floor, as if to silence me. “It is my fucking business. That monster attacked me last night. He emptied out my home of all my belongings. He’s a criminal, Pepper. He’s been picked up by the police on over a dozen occasions in Chicago. Getting involved with him is suicide.”
Since he took my pen away, I figure he doesn’t deserve an answer. I walk to the door, open it and motion for him to get out.
He walks over and slams it shut-without leaving. “I’m not finished. You have fully gone off the rails, here. Do you think this man won’t empty your house next? Threaten your life? Your parents’?”
I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you, songbird.
Yes, Tony had done those things. I believe Hugh about his record. I know he’s dangerous and the men he works for are even more dangerous. When he dropped me off at my suite, I wasn’t sure I wanted to see him again.
But I can’t find it in me to believe that man would ever hurt me or my parents or anyone I cared about. He hasn’t shown me anything but hot sex and a whole lot of consideration. And that’s despite the situation I’m in with him and his outfit.
“Open your eyes, Pepper. We’re in a whole lot of hot water here, and you pick this guy to explore your bad boy fantasies with?” He shakes his head. “Uh uh. It can’t happen. I forbid you to see him again, and if I have to lock you in this hotel room for the rest of our stay here, I will.”
My head spins around and pops off with fury. I stalk over and grab my pen from the floor. YOU’RE FIRED, I print in huge block letters.
Hugh snatches the pad away from me and hurls it across the room. “You can’t fire me. We have a contract. I’m not just your manager. As of this new album, I’m you’re producer. And you owe me three more albums. So there’s no firing me, Pepper. I own you.”
Someone knocks on the door.
“And if you even try to get rid of me, I’ll sue you for breech so fast you’ll get whiplash.” Hugh raises his voice. “Your parents are already mortgaged to the hilt in that house. You’ll lose everything.”
The door pounds again. “Hey, Pepper? It’s Izzy.”
I stride over and fling the door open. Izzy’s face is creased with concern as she stumbles in.
I point to the hallway, levelling my glare at Hugh.
“I think she’s telling you to leave, dude.” Izzy positions herself beside me.
A rush of gratitude fills my chest. I have at least one friend in this fucked up entourage.
Hugh points an angry finger at me. “Stay away from him,” he snarls.
I stalk over, pick up the notebook from the floor and hold the page up to him.
“Wow,” Izzy drawls. “Looks like you’re fired.”
“No. She can’t fire me. And we’ll discuss this tomorrow.” He leaves, attempting to slam the door behind him, only failing because it has a softener attached.
Izzy snorts, then thumps me on the back. “Holy shit. You just fired Hugh.”
I feel like the floor has dropped out on me. I don’t know what to think about any of it. I write on the notepad. Not sure if it will stick. He seems to think I can’t.
“Fuck that. Get a lawyer. Hugh’s gotta go.”
I lunge forward and give her a hug. She stiffens, because she’s not really the huggy type, but pats me on the back.
When I let her go, she says, “I saw your performance with The Sores.”
I hold my breath. I don’t know why I care what she thinks, but I do.
“It was wicked, girl. So unbelievably great. I am proud to be your roadie.”
I laugh and throw my arms around her a second time.
“Even more glad now that I don’t have to work for fucking Hugh.”
Yeah, about that. That queasy feeling is back. I don’t know if I’m afraid he’ll stay fired or afraid he won’t.
It doesn’t matter though. Even if this ends my whole career. I can’t go on with him running my life.