“You thought Bryce would choose his sister’s music career over me, the great love of his life?”
“I had no idea. But I sure as hell hoped so. Which is why I said I’d check out his sister’s Instagram. And, lo and behold, I found the guy’s price on the first try. That’s actually one of my favorite games. Figuring out someone’s price and bribing them with it: watching with glee as they pick my offered bribe over something else they’d normally choose. Something they should choose, but don’t because what I’ve offered is just too tempting. It never ceases to amuse me how easily people can be bought.”
She shoots me a look of disdain. “One of your favorite games is playing the devil on someone’s shoulder?”
“That’s a great way of describing it. Yeah, most definitely.”
“But you have other favorite games, too?”
I chuckle, but say nothing. Oh, little Georgina. You’ll learn soon enough about my other favorite games.
For a long moment, we walk in near silence, the only sounds coming from the occasional car driving by and our brisk footfalls on the cement sidewalk.
Finally, Georgina says, “You said Bryce’s status as a football star also figured in, although not like I think? What did you mean by that?”
I chuckle. “Man, you really picked the right major, didn’t you?”
She makes an adorable face. “Sorry. When something fascinates me, I can’t help asking a million questions.”
She looks earnest and adorable right now. Beyond beautiful. Which makes me feel bad I suspected she was lying to me earlier about not wanting to be a pop star. Maybe Josh was right. Maybe Georgina is nothing but fascinated by me. Maybe she wants nothing but a hot night of sex with a baller. And who could blame her for that?
“Don’t apologize,” I say, just as we reach the parking structure. “I meant that as a compliment.” We come to a stop in front of the elevator. I press the call button. “To answer your question about how Bryce’s football-star status played into my thinking, I’d rather show you than tell you.” The elevator doors open, and I lead her inside the box. “Do me a favor and call up Bryce’s sister’s Instagram, baby. I’m gonna teach you how to be a music scout for me.”
Chapter 14
Georgina
After getting Bryce’s sister’s Instagram handle from Reed, I call up her page on my phone—trying desperately, as I do, not to let on that I’m a hair’s breadth away from having a nervous breakdown. All night long, I’ve been filled with anxiety about how and when to tell Reed about Alessandra’s music. And now, he wants to teach me how to be a “music scout”? Good lord, if I can’t find a natural opening to mention Alessandra now, then I’m officially hopeless.
Shit. I feel like the stakes are higher now than ever. After that scorching hot, best-kiss-of-my-life kiss with Reed in front of Bernie’s Place, I’m especially determined not to blow my chance to have sex with him tonight. But I can’t help worrying Reed is going to feel betrayed when I finally pull out that flash drive. Will he think Alessandra’s demo was my singular motivation this whole time? Will he view it as proof that I am, indeed, Bobby Fischer? Or has that amazing kiss worked the same kind of magical swooning spell on him that it worked on me, such that he’ll be nothing but sweet and receptive when I finally pull out Alessandra’s music? In short, I’m wondering if Alessandra’s demo will provoke the same kind of benevolence Reed showed to Bryce... or the kind of wrath he showed to that cute little blonde at the bar.
“Well?” Reed says. “Did you find the sister’s account?”
“Uh, yeah.” I survey the endless selfies on Bryce’s sister’s page. “She’s really pretty. She looks like Aloha Carmichael.”
I show Reed my screen, and he nods his agreement.
“Okay, so, that’s strike one against her.”
“Against her?” My stomach drops. “I meant she looks like Aloha as a compliment.”
The elevator doors open on the fourth floor of the structure, and we step out into the near-empty garage.
“I’m parked over here,” Reed says, pulling me to the right.
My heart is thundering. “Reed, Aloha is gorgeous and one of the biggest stars on the planet, as you well know. How could looking like her be anything but a good thing?”
“Think, Music Scout. Why would I want to sign Aloha Two-Point-Oh, when the original is already one of my biggest earning stars? I owe it to Aloha to put all my Aloha-shaped eggs into Aloha’s basket, not the poor man’s version of her. There’s only so much Aloha-style marketing and songs to go around. I would never want to dilute Aloha’s market share.”
I’m dumbstruck. I open and close my mouth, not sure how to respond. Now I really don’t know what to tell him about Alessandra. Whenever I tell anyone about her, I always say she sounds like the lovechild of Adele and Laila Fitzgerald. But Reed is saying that would be a bad thing?