The person in front of me was not one of the Zeps.
She came up to about my nipples, and that included the extra inches from her teased blond hair. A rich honey hue versus Zoe’s white-blond color with purple at the ends as if she’d dipped it in a can of paint.
This woman wore a suit in a sharp steel gray with a bright pink blouse and heels the same color. All business with a hint of funky style that made me cock my head like the Target dog I’d seen on the side of a city bus.
“Ian Kagan, is it?” She held out a hand to shake.
I was about to ask her how she knew who I was, but I’d just been onstage. And of course, I looked just like Simon and he wasn’t exactly a nobody.
My face was my golden ticket and my destruction, all rolled into one.
“And you are?” I didn’t shake, just cros
sed my arms over my chest. I didn’t appreciate being interrupted from my Zoe Instagram stalking. I’d save the pleasantries for later.
She cocked a perfectly arched brow and pulled back her hand with a shrug. “You’re an ornery one. That’s my specialty, so you don’t scare me.”
“I can’t say you scare me either, since without your heels you wouldn’t be much higher than my groin.”
She didn’t flush. Her brown eyes flashed then narrowed shrewdly. “I’m Sabrina Price. I work for Ripper Records.”
At once, the back of my neck turned to ice. I rubbed it to try to get some of the circulation moving again.
Good job, idiot. You just insulted someone from the record company.
I’d have to learn to temper my first reaction. Someday.
“Maybe we can start over.” I attempted a smile and extended my hand.
She waved it off and breezed past me into the modest-sized dressing room. “I wouldn’t have expected anything less from you. I’ve read your file.”
That file again. I was going to find it and burn it. Or else write a bunch of lies inside it.
They thought they had me pegged? Well, screw them.
Screw them all.
“I’m sure my file left some pertinent things out.” With an easy smile, I nudged the door closed and leaned back against it.
“You’d be surprised what the file contains. It’s rather exhaustive.” She moved to the dressing table and picked up Zoe’s camera. My stomach dropped as if she’d touched something precious. Private.
Christ, I was all over the place tonight. The show must’ve taken more out of me than I realized.
Or Zoe had.
“She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she?” Sabrina turned the camera over in her hands. “You might want to give this back. She’s well-connected in the Ripper family.”
All at once, the name Zoe slammed into me, as did an echo of the husky voice that had snagged my attention in the hallway of Ripper Records. She’d been the one in conversation with Lila Crandall.
I’d been drawn to her from the very first. Seeing her hadn’t quelled that interest. If anything, a flicker of a flame had already set to burn.
And she was connected to Lila, and I’d stolen her camera. I was making great moves all over the place.
Yet that didn’t mean I had any intention of rectifying them. At least not yet.
“Is that so? How is she connected?”
Sabrina set the camera down as if she hadn’t heard my question and turned to face me. “Your first show in the States was good. Not great. Next time, I expect more.”