Hung (6 page)

Fred paused for breath, then launched back into his tirade. "Be that as it may, Clay, I frankly don't understand what this has to do with anything. Perhaps you could enlighten me?" he asked sarcastically.

"My pleasure," I said. "That punk on the video tried to ruin Alicia's big night, and – I'm going to level with you, Fred – I saw red. I'm not proud of it, because I know it's the last thing Alicia would've wanted me to do, but I laid him out for it. She's barely spoken to me since," I said, injecting a pained tone into my voice.

"I still don't see what this has to do with anything," Fred blustered. "I don't care what the reason was, I still can't have my stars fighting like rats in the gutter."

That was promising, he called me one of his stars…

"You're a smart man, Mr. Peters," I said, reverting to formality. "I'm sure you see how this could be played in the media. My fans would love nothing more than to see me portrayed as a strong protector. They'd go mad for it. And you've seen the amount of views our duet's already got. Imagine what would happen if we not only announced that Alicia and I are engaged to be married," I said, still holding Alicia's stunned gaze, "but that we're releasing a debut album together."

"The Internet would go mad," Fred murmured thoughtfully. I'm not even sure he knew he'd said it out loud.

I could picture him sitting there, stroking his chin behind a power desk with sycophantic executives sitting around him nodding. I just hoped he'd reach the correct decision – the one I wanted.

What gave me hope was that I could hear the greed in his voice. I knew that for a man like Fred, cash was king, and right now, he saw me as one big dollar sign. If anything was going to save my career, that was it.

But Fred was a smart cookie, and part of him must've been paranoid that I was trying to pull the wool over his eyes.

"Is Alicia there with you?" he asked.

"She is," I confirmed nervously, redoubling my efforts to beg Alicia to cooperate – a difficult task when I had to remain completely silent.

"Alicia – is it true?" he asked, sounding as though he could barely believe it. "Are you seriously engaged to
Clay Hunt
?"

I
was caught
like a rabbit in the headlights, facing the choice either to kill off my incredibly short-lived career on the one hand, or of lying to the man I guessed must be my new boss. Not a great start in the music industry.

I looked over at Clay, who somehow, incredibly, looked pleased with himself, as though he believed that he'd neatly solved this crisis with his plan. I wanted to scream at him, but my jaw seemed wired shut. Couldn't he understand that this was crazy?

"Alicia?" the powerful executive prompted. "You still there?"

That was when I made a decision that would change my life forever.

"I'm here," I said, my voice sounding weak and quavering even to my own ears. "Sorry…" I trailed off, unable to bring myself to commit to Clay’s plan. Listening to the lack of conviction in my voice, I couldn't believe that Fred Peters wouldn't see through me in a second.

"Are you seriously
engaged
to Clay?" Fred asked in utter disbelief. "Are you telling me that
you've
managed to tie down the only man in this city who'd rather blow up his career by fucking anything with tits and fighting anything without than be a global goddamn music star? I don't believe it. The Clay I know, and believe me – I follow my assets pretty carefully – wouldn't settle down for anyone. Certainly not you." He spat the last bit, his voice dripping with condescension as though I were barely worth his time.

It was the way he said
you
that got me. Before that, I'd been wavering – not sure whether I could commit to Clay's crazy plan. But maybe some of Clay's easy confidence, quick temper and lack of regard for consequences – any consequences – had already rubbed off on me. I never knew that I could be so rash. I'd always worked so hard to get where I wanted to go, and never taken a shortcut like this, but by the time he'd finished his angry tirade, I was ready to pitch myself to Clay's plan – whatever the repercussions.

"I'll have you know, Mr. Peters," I said, allowing the righteous anger building up in my voice to dispense with my previous anxieties that he'd figure out I was lying, "we've been together for almost a year. I've never met a man like him – even," I looked directly at Clay and shot him a hard glare, "if he is a little rough around the edges sometimes."

I decided to direct the rest of the conversation not at the Atlantic Records executive, but at Clay. If I was going to go along with his crazy, madcap plan, I was going to do it my way. After all, the worst that could happen was that I'd need to stage a "breakup" at some point.

"Clay knows that after the other night, the only way I’ll stay with him is if he's on his best behavior. It's not losing his career that worries him," I said. "After all, we both know that he's got enough money to live out the rest of his life in unbelievable luxury. It's losing me."

"Then how can you explain," Fred batted back with the air of a man who believed he'd found a way of toppling the entire house of cards our lie was built upon, "those pictures of him with that Victoria's Secret model draped around him last week? Are you happy to stay with a man who's cheating on you?"

He thought he had me there, and for a few seconds, I was worried he did as well. Suddenly, my mind grasped upon a solution. "Fred," I said. "I can call you Fred – can't I?" I blustered.

"Sure," he replied, sounding irritated. I grinned, enjoying myself.

Clay, how have you rubbed off on me this quickly?

"Not that it's any of your business, Fred," I said – now injecting my own condescension into my voice, "but Clay and I have maintained an open relationship," I continued, grasping around for something to say next.

"An open relationship?" he spluttered. "You mean, you're
okay
with him sleeping around?"

"I'm not really sure I'm comfortable having this discussion with you," I replied, "but as it so happens – yes. You're right, Clay's a man who likes a woman, likes a lot of them. That's one of the things I've found so attractive about him – he takes what he wants. But," I said, staring back at Clay, ready to make my point, "when we got engaged, we decided to close the relationship. Clay and I are exclusive now, and if he sleeps around – not that I think he would," I quickly added, "I'll end it, immediately."

I saw Clay's face fall as he listened to me and the reality of what his rash decision to claim we were engaged really meant hit home. I was making it clear that if he wanted me to go along with this crazy plan, then I was going to call the shots. He wasn't going to be sleeping around, and he wasn't going to be fighting – because if he did either, I'd be straight out the door, and his career would go right down the drain. He looked crestfallen.

Fred was silent. Mike took the opportunity to make his point. "Fred, you and I both know that Alicia and Clay are PR gold right now, and we both know that Atlantic needs every bit of good PR it can use right now. How exactly
were
last quarter's results?" he said, somewhat snidely.

I couldn't really believe where this was all going – was I seriously about to commit myself to a philanderer like Clay Hunt? Did this mean that I
actually
had to marry him?
And if I didn't, what did that mean for my career in this business – would it just disappear?

"We both know that last quarter had us in the red," Fred said after a long silence, "but don't think that your boy's completely blameless in that. His sales were down more than ten percent, after all."

"And they'll be up fifty this quarter, just from all the extra press he'll get," Mike said. "That alone will buy you a bit of breathing space on Wall Street. Don't tell me you don't need it…"

Fred didn't say anything and Mike pressed on. "And think about what will happen when their album breaks. We both know that Future Proof Records has been sniffing around about buying you guys out – this album’s going to go platinum a dozen times over. This is the kind of album that puts you in a position to buy
them
, not the other way around."

I listened intently. For all he was Clay's manager, Mike was clearly a smart cookie – because I knew exactly what he was doing. He was intimating that it wasn't just Clay's job on the line, Fred's was too. And judging by the quiet on the other end of the line, Fred knew it.

"You've made your point," Fred said gruffly. "You'll get your album. Trust me, your boy is on his last legs. One more screw up and your boy's out the door – understood?"

"Understood," Mike and Clay echoed in unison – but it was too late, Fred had already hung up. Mike planted his hands on the table, let his head slump forward and groaned. "What the hell have you got me into now, Clay?"

Now that the adrenaline that had been pumping through my system while we were on the phone to the CEO of Atlantic Records was beginning to ebb and fade away, I was already coming to regret my decision. Mike looked at me, then at Clay.

"You're crazy. Both of you, you’re nuts. And you know what? You deserve each other."

M
ike turned on his heel
, grabbed his briefcase and slammed the door. I'd never seen him this angry before, but I knew him – I knew he'd cool off, eventually. He wasn't the one I had to worry about.

Alicia was a different story altogether. Her face was drained of color, and by her pallid complexion, I could tell she was in shock.

Luckily, she broke the silence, because I had no idea what to say. How the hell was I supposed to broach the topic of the fact that we were now, for all intents and purposes, engaged?

"What the fuck, Clay?"

It was more eloquent a comment than I was expecting given I'd just thrown her in at the deep end. I'd expected much worse. On the other hand, judging by her expression, the worst was yet to come.

I knew I deserved whatever she was going to say, I just didn't know whether I'd be able to sit there and take her saying it. It wasn't my style. There was something about being berated that always got my hackles up, and just because it was coming from a woman I wanted to fuck more than life itself didn't mean that I wouldn't react badly.

"Should I say sorry?" I asked, genuinely being serious. I'd say it if she wanted me to. I wouldn't mean it, though, not really. As far as I was concerned, everything had worked out well. My career was safe – more or less – Alicia's shot at stardom was secure, and I'd just figured out a way of spending more time with a woman who, even though she was apparently unable to resist my physical charms, still seemed to despise me.

"You wouldn't mean it, would you?" she replied bitterly. "How the hell have I got myself into this situation?" she asked rhetorically. I decided to keep my mouth shut, rightly sensing that there would be nothing I could say that had a shot at helping.

"I can't do this," Alicia finally said, looking torn. "No way. I'm going to have to go to the record label and tell them the wedding's off, or something. Or do I tell them the whole truth?" She closed her eyes and slapped her palm down hard on the table in frustration. "And I fucked you, too. Jesus, girl, have some self-control."

"That was more than a fuck," I replied, finally feeling affronted. "Surely you felt that? That was special, Alicia. It was something else."

"Oh, you can't be serious." She laughed viciously. "I know your type. You saw some poor, innocent girl who just wanted to make a career in the business and thought you could have your way with her, didn't you?"

"It wasn't like—"

"God, how stupid could I be?" she continued. "You’ve probably done this a hundred times, haven't you?"

"No—"

Again she cut me off. "Are you seriously going to sit there and tell me I'm special? That I'm different? Come on, Clay – we both know better."

The thing was, it was true. How the hell was I supposed to get that across to her? Especially when I could see the sense in everything she was saying… I
had
slept with more girls than I could remember, and none of them had ever gripped me like she did. But I could see what she was saying; to her it must just have sounded like cheap fluff, like I was just trying to get into her pants.

I was, but there was so much more than that.

I knew there was nothing I could do to change her mind – at least not right now, so I decided to change the topic.

"Are you seriously going to go to the label?" I asked. "I don't care about my career. Like you said, I've got enough money to live like a king for the rest of my life.
Do you
?"

She looked up at me sharply. I could tell I'd hit a nerve.

"Are you saying you're better than me just because you've made some cash?" she said hotly. "I've worked hard for everything I have in life. It didn't just fall into my lap because I was handsome and had a pretty voice…"

Handsome
…
At least she’s calling me handsome
.

"Hey, that's not fair," I protested. "You try doing eighty gigs in eighty towns in eighty days and then come back and tell me I've never worked for anything in my life. You know how hard this business is, Alicia."

"And I'm never going to get the chance because of you," she spat back. "How can I possibly go through with this charade? Do you think we can really pretend to be engaged? What about my friends, my colleagues – do you think they're all going to believe I was keeping you a secret all this time?"

She had a point, but I couldn't say that. If I did, I knew I'd never get to show this woman that I didn't just want to sleep with her – I loved her. Just the idea was shocking, because Clay Hunt didn't
love
women, he just used them to get himself off. That was the image I had built up around me; hell, it was even what I thought about myself. But this incredible black beauty was making me question everything I'd ever held true about myself. And if she was doing this much after just a couple of days, then I
needed
to find out how she'd make me feel after a month, a year – a lifetime.

"But if you don't," I said, feeling terrible that I was basically manipulating her, but equally aware that if I didn't, then she'd walk out right then and there, "then that's it. No career, no fame, no money – none of it. What's the worst that could happen," I asked, desperately clutching at straws, "if you pretend to be engaged to me for six months, release an album with me – get everything you've ever wanted, and then release a statement to the press saying we've split up? I won't fight it, I won't argue. You can have everything, Alicia, everything you ever wanted."

But you'll have to pretend to love me…

I looked at her and knew exactly what she was thinking. You didn't sleep with as many women as I had over the course of my lifetime without learning a few tricks about how to read a girl's face – and I could read Alicia's like a book. She was torn. She hated my guts, and every word that came out of my mouth – but she knew I was right. Alicia knew that if she had any chance of achieving her dreams, she needed to do what I was suggesting.

And she hated it.

"If we're going to do this…"

I didn't hear anything else she said, because inside my head fireworks were exploding like it was the Fourth of July. I'd done it! I'd somehow convinced her that this crazy gambit might work out!

"Clay, pay attention to me," she snapped, with all the authority of a feared schoolteacher. I meekly looked at her, giving her my full attention. "I said, if we're going to do this, then we do it my way – understood?"

I nodded. I knew my big mouth had a way of fucking things up, and I didn't want to give it the chance.

"Number one," she said, raising a finger, "we don't sleep together. That was a mistake – from now on, no mixing business and pleasure."

I bit down on my tongue to hide my disappointment. I had no idea how I was going to keep my hands off her juicy ass – but then again, I had no intention of abiding by her rules. Well, not this one, anyway.

"Number two, if you so much as put a foot out of line, then that's it – we're done. That means no fighting, no partying, no hanging around with anyone who might tempt you into screwing up."

I didn't like the sound of that one at all, but I grimaced and nodded regardless.

"Number three – no sleeping with other women," she said sternly. "I'm putting my reputation on the line here, and it's bad enough that I’m going to have to lie to my friends and family. The last thing I need is for you to cheat on me, or whatever the hell this is, and drag my name through the mud. Okay?" This time, she fixed me with a stare – and I understood that, for her, this was the most important one.

The thing is, it was fine by me. I didn't want any other woman. I only wanted her.

"Fine," I agreed immediately.

"Seriously?" she asked, sounding surprised that I'd accepted her terms so easily. She must have been expecting me to put up a fight.

"Yeah, seriously," I agreed. "I'm going to have to be honest with you, Alicia," I said, looking her in the eyes. "I haven't had a recording session like the one we had this morning in years. All of this, all of these rules, it'll all be worth it, just for that."

It was true, mostly, but what I wasn't saying was that I was hoping for more – much more. I was hoping for her.

"There's only one thing," I said, "and I don't think you're going to like it."

"What?" She glowered back at me.

"If we're going to sell this lie, we're going to have to make it look realistic. You're going to have to move in with me."