Beautiful Liar (The Reed Rivers Trilogy 2)

I know this is business to him, but I’m lying next to him on his bed in my pajamas, while he’s nearly naked. It’s not like we’re sitting across from each other at his office! It’s not like I’m some stranger off the street, like that poor girl who asked him to listen to her demo at the bar—but he’s treating me exactly like her! After fucking me—after eating me out—am I seriously no different to him than that poor girl at the bar? Would it kill him to soften his rejection, just this once, so as not to decimate me?

But I’m equally mad at myself, as well, for being stupid enough to say the words “painfully shy” to Reed about Alessandra the other night. Obviously, I doomed my poor stepsister in Reed’s eyes before he’d even heard her first note. Why was I so stupid?

Reed exhales. “Look, I know this is disappointing to you, but that’s life. You promised you’d handle my opinion maturely, and that’s exactly what I expect you to do.”

Adrenaline surging inside my veins, I leap up from the bed and barrel toward the door. If I don’t extract myself from this situation for a bit to cool down, I’ll surely say something I’ll regret.

“Goddammit,” Reed barks from behind me. “Don’t be so dramatic, Georgie. You promised you wouldn’t let my opinion affect our time together.”

I whirl around at the door. “Okay, first off, I’m not being dramatic, Reed. This isn’t an act, designed to get a reaction out of you. I’m sincerely, genuinely crushed and in need of a minute to process my overwhelming and unexpected emotions.” I’m shaking. Flailing. “Gee, I’m so sorry if my pesky emotions are screwing up your plan to get laid tonight, but that’s life. Yes, it’s true I said I wouldn’t let your opinion affect our time together, but that was before I knew you’d talk to me like you’re entitled to my body. You’re not. You don’t want to sign my stepsister to River Records? Fine. Whatever. Your opinion is obviously wrong and stupid, but you’re entitled to it. But there’s no excuse for you to be a flaming prick about it, especially when I’m sitting next to you barely clothed.”

He throws up his hands. “Oh, for the love of fuck. You’re going to make this about me, when you’re the one who wouldn’t let me touch you because I didn’t give you what you wanted.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Not everything is about you.”

“I’m running a for-profit record label in a cutthroat industry, Georgie. Not the Make-A-Wish Foundation.”

I flip him off with my right hand—with the middle finger wearing my mother’s wedding ring. And I truly believe she’s cheering me on from heaven for doing it.

“So mature,” he says. “And so predictable.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Was that too ‘dramatic’?” I say mockingly. “Am I play-acting in my mommy’s heels? Well, guess what, Reed? I wish I were play-acting in my mommy’s heels. Unfortunately, I haven’t had the pleasure of wearing my mommy’s heels, whether to play-act in them, or just dress up for a special night out, since I was nine. Which is when she died in a car accident. So, don’t say a fucking word about my mommy’s heels ever again!”

He’s stricken. Pained. Full of regret. “Oh, Georgie. I had no idea.”

“And then my father married Alessandra’s mother, and it felt like my mother had died a second time.” I wipe my eyes, but it’s no use. I’m a hot mess. “I was so full of rage about the wedding, Reed. Crushed. Confused. Betrayed. But Alessandra was sweet about it, even though her father had just died. She had every reason to be as angry as I was. She had every reason to lash out, the way I did. But, see, that’s not Alessandra Tennison. Whereas I’ve always lashed out when I’m hurt, she’s always lashed in. Yes, I’m too quick to flip someone off. I own that. But at least, I get it out. That poor girl has struggled her whole life with anxiety and self-doubt and crippling shyness. But she’s come so far. She went to that audition for Berklee and nailed it. She’s come so far out of her shell, you have no idea. And do you know why? Because of her music. So, yes, she might still be a sweet little pony who’s afraid of her own shadow sometimes. But she’s well worth the time and effort to lead her out of the barn. I know, because for years, I was the only person she played her songs for. The only one. She knew I was going through so much, and she’d sing those songs to me and make me feel better. She was my angel. And all I wanted was for something wonderful to happen for her. I just wanted to pay her back for all she’s given to me, through her music, and her love, and kind heart, over the years.”