it only twists the knife already lodged in my heart. But I can’t help swooning, just a little bit, despite myself, to realize, yet again, Reed really is a ride or die kind of guy for the people he loves. Like he told me once, if you’re on his short list, he’ll do anything for you. Too bad I never made it onto his short list. I clear my throat. “Good for you, Troy. That label guy screwed you over, so you screwed him over, even harder. That’s so hot.”
Troy licks his lips. “You’re so hot.” With that, he leans forward, obviously intending to kiss me. Abruptly, I jerk back and take a long drink of my club soda, pretending not to realize I just stiff-armed him.
“So, come on. Give me a little hint about that secret.”
I jut out my breasts, and Troy’s gaze drifts directly to them, right on cue.
But, dammit, he shakes his head. “For all I know, you could sell the secret to the tabloids, or tell someone else who’d do that. One way or another, the information could get out, and then the psycho would know I’d talked, and he’d sue me for breaching the confidential settlement.”
Damn. I bet if I slept with Troy, I could get him to sing to me like a canary about this secret. But that’s never going to happen. Not in a million years. Even if I found Troy attractive, which I don’t, it’s clear to me now my heart still belongs to Reed, whether I like it or not. And that means my body belongs to him, too—simply because that’s the way I’m wired. When I love, I do it with everything I am. My heart, mind, body, and soul.
Troy touches my arm, making me stiffen, and leans into me. “You have really pretty eyes, Georgia.”
I feel no need to correct him on my name. In fact, I’m glad he got it wrong. “Thank you, Troy. So do you.”
Troy leans forward, again, obviously intending to kiss me, so, I jerk back, again, and sip my water. But it’s obvious my little jerk-back-cluelessly maneuver isn’t going to work a third time. Next time, Troy is going to get up and find someone else to hit on. Someone who’ll give him the green light. Which means I need to pry this secret out of this bastard’s blackmailing mouth right now, before it’s too late.
I put my elbow onto the bar and bat my eyelashes. “I don’t normally tell people this, Troy, but I’m super close with someone who writes for Rock ‘n’ Roll. You know, the music magazine?” Troy perks up like a Labrador whose owner is holding up a tennis ball. “I bet if I told this writer about you—and how talented and sexy you are, and how this Reed guy screwed you over—she’d be interested in interviewing you for a featured article.”
“Oh my God. That would be huge.”
“The only thing is,” I say coyly. “She’s not easy to impress. Honestly, she’s always saying she’s got a line around the block of musicians wanting her to write about them. So, I think I’d need to tell her you’re willing to divulge something more than what’s in the public record for the article—or at least, to drop a sizeable hint that will allow her to figure it out on her own—wink, wink—if you want to have any chance of her coming down here to meet you.”
Troy looks pained. “I really can’t say anything too specific about that secret.”
“Oh, yeah, I totally get it. But you figured it out, based on a news story on TV, right?”
He nods.
“Well... What was the news story? That’s got to be in the public record. Maybe this Rock ‘n’ Roll reporter could follow the same breadcrumbs you followed, without a word from you, and figure it out for herself. Maybe this writer for Rock ‘n’ Roll was researching an article about Reed Rivers, so she went to the courthouse to look at the lawsuits filed against him, and she noticed your lawsuit, and she read it, and then happened to see whatever news story you saw... And then, she put two and two together, without a word from you.”
Troy is lit up. He gets it. “Yeah, I think that could work!”
“Of course, it’ll work.” I lean forward conspiratorially and put my fingertips on his forearm. “Who was the woman in the news story? I’ll tell this writer her name, and she’ll research it, and take it from