Dangerous Fling (Dangerous Noise 4)

She must, with that barely-moved-into apartment.

Money is all I have to offer her.

But money is still the best security blanket around. It buys safety. It buys respect.

It buys options.

"Throw out a number. I'll make it happen." I'm going to convince her of this. "This is our big video. The label has set aside a huge chunk of change. They're offering the standard ten percent of budget. I can get them to go up to twenty percent."

"You can get suits to double the director's fee?"

"If I can't, I'll pay the difference."

"Why?" She pulls her laptop from her messenger bag, opens it, and boots up the video. "Why pay handsomely for a director with no experience?"

"You really trying to talk yourself out of a job?"

"I want to know."

Because she's the only person who has ever got what a song was about without me explaining it.

And I'm fucking tired of spilling my guts to people who don't get it.

I love what I do.

I love commanding a stage.

There's this feeling of acceptance when I unleash something ugly in a song and people love it. But there's always another side to it.

People think the song means something else.

They don't see me.

They see that brooding bad boy image.

That's what I want them to see.

It's fucking terrifying that Lacey sees more than that.

But it's also irresistible.

Her voice pulls me back to the moment.

"I will do it. For the twenty percent. And two more months of rent for finishing the Hurt Me, Baby video." She folds her arms on the table and stares into my eyes. "But only if you tell me why you want to hire me."

"I checked out your website. Your shit is good. And it's different. That's what I want."

"That's all? My stuff is different?" Her eyes search mine. She's looking for something and she's not going to relent until she finds it. "You're not doing this because you want to get in my pants."

"I'm not?"

"No. I mean, I think it's pretty obvious we want to fuck each other."

I chuckle.

"Yeah, I get it. I'm a little… obvious. I've been out of the flirting game for four years. Give me a break."

"Four years?"