Rhythm of the Road - Autumn Jones Lake Page 0,105

they’re gonna be dicks.”

“I really can’t.” Ice turns to me. “You mind taking her? She’s got this thing with the radio station.”

“The DJs are really crude and gross,” Anya explains. “But their audience is basically who I’m trying to target.”

“Yeah.” I glance at Jigsaw. Speak up anytime, bro. “One of us can do it.”

Never mind that it’s not what I signed up for on this trip and Ice has an entire clubhouse of other brothers he could ask.

She claps her hands together. “Thank you. I’ll feel better having you there.”

“No problem.”

“Thanks, Rooster.” Ice pats my back and moves on to talk to someone else. Jigsaw catches Shonda’s eye and swaggers her way. Lord help the woman.

I’m really not in the mood to party, especially since I need to have all this stuff set up before the weekend.

I take Anya aside.

“Are you sticking around tonight?” I ask her.

She bats her eyelashes a few times and answers in a breathy voice. “I can if you want me to.”

Yeah, no.

“I could use your help with some of the website sign-ups,” I clarify so there are no misunderstandings about my expectations.

Her shoulders drop and a softer, more natural smile curves her lips. “Oh. Sure.”

Party noises fade away as she follows me down the long, narrow hallway to Ice’s office.

She frowns when I pull out a key to open the door. “Ice doesn’t allow me in here.”

“You’re with me. He knows I need your help with this.”

She bites her lip and glances back the way we came. Shit. Is she worried Ice will be pissed at her or worried about being alone with me?

“Okay.”

My gaze strays to the corner and the tiny red, blinking light. Ice even has cameras set up in here. Really couldn’t give a shit less if he’s somewhere else in the house watching us. Actually, knowing we’re being filmed is a relief. This way, there’s no chance of him accusing me of hitting on his girlfriend—or whatever she is to him—later.

I drop into the chair behind the desk and motion for her to take the one across from me. “You got your license on you?”

“Give me a second.” She pulls her big purse into her lap and searches through it.

While I’m waiting, I jot down a bunch of addresses and passwords she’ll need. Ice has a copy of everything I’m giving her, and I’ll keep a third copy. Just in case.

Finally, she hands me her license. It’s real—or one hell of a fake. I snap a quick picture of her holding the license up to her face, then she sets it down on the desk next to me.

One after the other, I fill in the same tedious information at each film distribution platform.

“So, five to seven minute clips on the free sites seem to do the best to reel people in,” I explain so she knows why the fuck I dragged her down here. “At least for Stella. Yours might be different, so you can play around with the length until you find something that consistently works for you.”

“Okay.” She nods eagerly. “I never give the pop shot away.”

“Probably a good strategy. Give ’em blue balls.”

She chuckles.

My gaze won’t stop straying to her license sitting next to the keyboard.

I’m not judging. She seems to be into this business venture. It’s not like Ice is forcing her into anything. But God damn. She’s a year younger than Shelby. Old enough to make her own choices, sure. Luckier than most girls, I guess. Found someone to bankroll her business. Still, some of the stupid decisions I made at her age flood my memories.

Not your concern.

“How long you been doing this, Anya?” I can’t help myself.

Her eyes widen. Shit, maybe she mentioned it at some point and I forgot. Or maybe no one’s ever given a damn before. “Uh, since I was eighteen, why?”

“Just curious.”

She sits forward and drums her nails over against the desk, her gaze darting around the room. “Actually…”

Please tell me Ice hasn’t been banging this chick since she was a teenager.

“My stepdad posted videos of me before then…”

Fuck.

“I didn’t find out until some kids in school were passing around the links. It took me forever to get the sites to take them down.” She jerks her chin toward her license and the paperwork I’ve been filling out. “That’s all bullshit. They don’t really give a damn.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. Is your stepfather at least in prison?”

She frowns, as if prison had never been an option. Holy fuck, tell me her pedo

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