Taking Something (3 page)

“P
LEASE TELL
me that the first thing you are going to do is get a haircut when you get off the plane?” Lila asked as she sat down on the edge of my bed.

I had called her that morning to tell her that I was heading to Los Angeles to produce Sadie's album. Within the hour she had been knocking on my front door to offer her insight and suggest what was and wasn't acceptable Hollywood attire.

“Please. My hair is perfect,” I replied.

“You look like a homeless person,” she joked.

“Yeah, a homeless person that all the ladies want to sleep with.”

“Whatever you say.” She laughed. “So tell me, stud. How exactly are you going to pull this off?”

I figured she'd want the details of my latest brainstorm. She was long retired from the con game, but it didn't mean a little part of her didn’t still get an adrenalin rush from hearing about what I was cooking up. Plus, her input was usually pretty valuable. Two heads were always better than one.

“Same way I pull everything off,” I answered quickly.

“I don't think making her fall in love with you is going to work this time, Nick.”

“Seriously?” I smirked. “Now you're doubting my abilities with women?”

“Not women in general. Just this one.”

“She's no different than the rest, Rae.”

“Yes she is,” she disagreed.

“How?”

“Well, for starters, she's like the most famous person on the planet. You're not going to be able to make her fall for your charms, record the songs you want her to, and then just bolt when it's over. She'll run your name through the mud and people will listen. So it will have all been for nothing if you can never get another job.”

“What makes you think I'm going to bolt? We might actually fall in love.”

“Are you capable of that?”

Ouch. That hurt.

“I'm just saying that you might want to consider convincing her in a way that makes her not think she has a future with you. Nothing is worse than a scorned woman, Nick. Look at how Brynn took it. She told everyone that would listen how big of an asshole you were. It's a wonder you made it through graduation without being murdered.”

Brynn had been a mistake. She had run a couple cons with me a few years ago when Lila went and fell in love with my brother. I should have known better than to sleep with her, but dammit she was good-looking. Not to mention a hellcat in the sack. I had needs. Sue me.

It wasn't my fault that she hadn’t understood our arrangement. Run cons and have sex. I'd never said anything about a relationship.

“I have other ways of making women bend to my will,” I said, trying to convince Lila.

“Do you?” She laughed, obviously not buying it. “Don't get me wrong, Nick. You’re a good guy, deep down, but you know as well as I do that every single scam we ever ran was based on one thing. She's gotta be different if you want to turn this chance into a career. You break her heart and you're as good as done in that world.”

“Celebrities date and break up all the time.”

“You're not a celebrity.” She shook her head. “I mean, you're kind of known, but—”

“Are you here to give me a pep talk or a swift kick in the nuts? Jesus. ”

“You know what I mean.” She nudged me lightly with her shoulder. “She's more well known. People will take her side. Believe me. I've read enough gossip magazines to know what happens to the guy who dumps America's Sweetheart. Have you seen Kevin Federline lately?”

“I don't even know who that is, Rae.”

Her eyes went wide and hands went up as if she'd proven her point. “Exactly.”

“Pregnancy is making you paranoid.” I laughed. “I think I can handle myself.”

“Okay,” she finally conceded. “But don't say I didn't warn you.”

She started to stand up and I quickly grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. I'd never really thought about Lila having a baby. I'd assumed that we'd be those Bohemian, gypsy-types who floated around together—traveling from here to there and scamming cash as we needed it. Never in my wildest dreams had it occurred to me that she'd get married and actually settle down. And sure as hell not to someone related to me. It was a good look on her though, and as sad as I was that I'd lost my partner in crime, I was happy for her. And, somewhere along the line, I guess I'd decided settling down a little might not be so bad. I really did want to make this music thing work. A steady paycheck would make life a lot easier. Plus, I was about to have a niece or nephew to spoil rotten.

“I'll be back in a month. Just in time for the baby,” I promised.

“You better be.” She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me as tightly as she could with her belly protruding between us.

“Wouldn't miss it for the world.” I hugged her back. “Besides, think of all the cons I can run with a baby. I've already thought up this widowed father routine that's going to get have people knocking each other down to give me money.”

She leaned back and slapped me on the shoulder. “Don't even think about it.”

“I make no promises.”

She walked downstairs with me and I hailed a cab to drive me to the airport. One more hug goodbye and I watched her walk down the street.

Once I was alone, my mind started racing over what she'd said. By the time I made it the airport though, I'd convinced myself that she was wrong. I would win over Sadie by whatever means necessary, bust out an amazing record, solidify a position with Westwood and be on the next phase of my career.

Get the girl, get the music, get the money, get the career of my dreams. It was a damn-near perfect plan.

At least, it seemed that way at the time.

I made it to LA and checked in at the hotel I'd be calling home for the foreseeable future—fancy little suite at one of LA's hottest high-rises, complete with a balcony. What made it even better, was that Westwood Records was footing the bill. Hollace texted me an invitation to lunch the following day just as I sat down to comb the internet for any and every detail about Sadie Sinclair I could find. I listened to her backlist and read up on her career.

This girl truly was a product of her environment. The entire world had blown smoke up her ass since she was a freckle-faced little girl who'd sang a Madonna song on YouTube. Sure, she was cute and could carry a decent-enough tune, but there are thousands of other kids out there who could do the same thing. The difference—Sadie had been brought up to believe she was the best and her mother had been smart enough to grab on to the momentum of luck and good timing to catapult Sadie to where she was. The same mother who had taught her the song and cute little dance moves, uploaded the video, and posted it all over the internet.

Now that her
momager
had secured her daughter a place in the spotlight, she was off promoting the new talk show she'd finagled and Sadie was left to her own devices.

Like so many other child-stars with very little talent to speak of, she'd started off her whirlwind “I'm not a little girl anymore” tour by becoming a fixture at all the clubs. Hundreds of images popped up on the screen of her dancing and drinking.

Then came the
rumored
pill addiction, followed by a thirty-day stint in rehab. Two broken engagements, and a DUI arrest complete with the cracked-out mugshot later, she was now striving for demure and wise beyond her years by refusing to sing the bubblegum bullshit that made her famous to begin with. Girl had issues. To say the least.

And remember all those shady characters I mentioned before? Well they were in abundance. Some of them had bad reps. Some of them seemed like decent guys. For whatever reason, none of them seemed to stick around too long. The only thing Sadie seemed to like for sure was tattoos, good hair and a well-known name. I was two for three. I could make this work.

But, now she was single and drug-free, and her manager was Vince Roberts—Hollace Westwood's right-hand man. He would be joining Hollace and me for lunch tomorrow, along with Sadie.

There was one other person who seemed to pop up in the background of many of the images. Gia Grayson. Her long dark hair usually covered her face, but it didn't take much digging to find a picture of her as the perky little sidekick on Sadie's television show. She'd gone by Gianna back then and for whatever reason her career had never taken off like Sadie's had. Lucky for Gia, her former television BFF had thrown her a bone and hired her as her personal assistant.

So, from what I could tell there were three people surrounding Sadie that I needed to impress. I'd already started working on Hollace. I just needed to get Roberts and her assistant on board. Impress the friends, impress the Sadie.

As I dressed for lunch the next day, I made sure to pick out a short-sleeved shirt. If Sadie was into bad boys, I was going to give her what she wanted—tattoos and attitude. Lila might have said that it was a bad idea to pull at this girl's heartstrings, but evidence had shown that the quickest way to get a girl to do what
you
want is to give her what
she
wants. Or what she thinks she wants, anyway.

This girl wanted someone to treat her like a grown-ass woman and I could do that. Not to mention, I'd spent the better part of the night staring at her photographs from countless magazine spreads and video stills. She was smoking hot. I didn't know a guy on the planet that wouldn't have taken a crack at bedding Sadie Sinclair.

The restaurant was practically a fishbowl filled with a handful of the rich and famous dining on tiny plates of food with gigantic price tags. A swarm of paparazzi lined the sidewalks waiting for the guests to enter and exit. I ran a hand through my hair as I walked in. Had to look good in case the paps snapped a pic of me dining with Sadie. Always ready for a photo op. The excitement of my first tabloid photo was cut short as the hostess escorted me to a secluded table in the back. Hollace waved as I approached and stood to greet me.

I'd prepped for this meeting all night, but it was shot straight to hell the moment I laid eyes on her. I had to remind my dick that my brain was the one in charge. Her dark auburn hair hung in a mess of curls down her back and her perfectly glossed lips looked totally kissable as she looked over her shoulder. As she shifted in her chair to get a better look at me—swinging her toned legs out from under the table—I was greeted by the ample amount of cleavage she had peeking out of the deep v-neck of the clingy shirt she was wearing.

“Nick, this is – ” Hollace started to introduce us.

“Sadie Sinclair.” I reached out for her hand and pulled her up on her heels. She wasn't very tall, but in those shoes her legs looked like they stretched for miles out from under the little black shorts she had on. I wouldn't have been a dude, if I didn't have a quick thought of them wrapped around my waist. “I know all about you.” I offered up my most seductive smile.

“Well, now,” she breathed with just a hint of the Southern twang she'd tried so hard to loose over the span of her career. “That doesn't seem fair, considering I know nothing about you, Mister...” Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip as she waited for me to answer and let her eyes pore over my tattooed arms.

Yep. This is going to be a cake walk
.

“Nick Kline,” I answered. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“This is the new, up-and-coming producer I was telling you about, Sadie,” Hollace interjected as he stood up.

Sadie stared me down. It was hard to tell if she was just enjoying the view or if she was silently judging me. She dropped her hand from mine and popped it up on her hip. Her eyes flashed from lust to anger in a split second.

“I told you I didn't want a rookie,” she said defensively.

Judging it was then.

As much as she wanted to sound like an artist, I had it on pretty good authority that she was actually about as talented as Pixy Stick.

“Relax, Sadie,” Hollace calmed her by placing a hand on her bare shoulder. “I'm on your side, remember?”

“You damn well better be,” she reminded him with a harsh shrug.

“I understand your concerns, Miss Sinclair,” I interrupted as she dropped back into her seat and crossed her arms over her chest. “But I can assure you that what I lack in experience, I can make up for with my hard work and dedication. I take music very seriously.” I didn't care if she couldn't sing—or even read music for that matter. I was the artist and I could work Auto-Tune with the best of them. “I'd love to discuss your vision and how I can help you accomplish it.”

“Yes.” Vince Roberts stuck his hand. “Let's sit down and discuss this.” I nodded, acknowledging him, but turned my attention back to Sadie quickly. He ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair as he nodded and sat down. I knew I needed to be on his good side, but Sadie needed my undivided attention. If I could get her on board, I'd make sure he followed soon after.

“Hollace has filled me in on what you want to do with your next album and I think I can help you establish yourself as an adult with your fans. I get it. Trust me. You want to be taken seriously.”

Her eyes went wide as she listened to me spout off on how I could help her get a more mature sound. I also managed to stroke her ego at the same time. “You're a beautiful grown woman now who can think for herself and it's about time that people appreciated the fact.” She smiled and nodded as I told her everything she wanted to hear. “I think between me, you and these two”—I pointed at Vince and Hollace—“we can figure out the perfect way to introduce your fans to your new sound while managing to pick up some new ones. A more mature sound means more mature fans.”