Say You're Mine - Layla Hagen Page 0,21
a lot of time with them?”
“Who’s asking?”
“I’m Brayden’s friend.”
“Didn’t look like it,” I challenged. I got a good read on her. She was trying to intimidate me, for whatever reason, and I wasn’t having it. “He barely looked at you.”
She bristled, blinking fast. No one has tried to knock her down from her high horse before? I’ll volunteer for the job.
I always gave everyone the benefit of the doubt—it was a residual effect from my profession—but I had no tolerance for mean people. This woman needed to know she wasn’t going to intimidate me.
“Do you know who I am?”
“No, and I’m also not interested.”
Her jaw dropped. I shrugged, turning my attention to the buffet. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her turn and leave.
Of course, now that she was gone, I couldn’t help but wonder exactly who she was. I didn’t much care about her job, but was she really Brayden’s friend? Or friend with benefits? I told myself it didn’t matter... only it did.
Where was he, anyway? I didn’t have a chance to actually look for him, because Lars pulled me to one side, asking me if I had a chance to look at the video.
“I did. I really liked it. And I glanced at the comments—I think it was exactly what fans were asking for. I’ll give it forty-eight hours to gather more comments, and then I’ll send my observations to Sasha.”
“Okay. It felt good doing it. Like sharing something personal, but not overexposing.”
“I’m happy you were comfortable with it.”
Lars grinned widely. “I can’t believe we were so hard on you that first day. You’re not some whacko trying to convince us to sell our soul to the press or whatever TV network offers the most for a reality TV show.”
My eyes bulged. “Why did you even expect that?”
“Experience.”
“I see. Well, glad I’m not on your shit list anymore. Hey, who is she?” I pointed to the annoying blonde.
“Lilian. She’s a concert promoter. It’s the fifth time she’s collaborating with us. Mind you, she seems more interested in Brayden than the band.”
My stomach dropped. “By the way, do you know where he is? Haven’t seen him in a while.”
Lars cocked a brow, and I smiled nervously. Could he tell there was something going on between us?
“Probably hiding somewhere. He’s not a big fan of parties. Now, I have to go back to my guests. You’ll be all right on your own?”
“Yeah, sure.”
But the second he moved away, I texted Brayden.
Isabelle: Rumor has it you’re hiding from the party.
Brayden: Inspiration hit. I’d love for you to join me.
I licked my lips, wondering if I was playing with fire. I felt as if we were on the edge, and we might fall over it any second now.
Isabelle: Where are you?
Brayden: In my personal rehearsal room.
I hesitated, letting my fingers hover over the phone’s screen without typing a reply.
My heart was beating fast, then even faster when he sent me another message.
Brayden: I’ll sing it just for you.
Isabelle: Now that’s what I call an effective bribe.
No one paid attention to me as I followed his directions and headed upstairs. I gripped the bannister, walking slowly, feeling as if I was on a clandestine mission. Even as the music from below faded and I approached the rehearsal room, I couldn’t hear anything from inside. That padding was great.
When I was right in front of the door, I heard the piano. It made no sense to knock, since he knew I was coming. I opened the door and quietly watched him.
Brayden had his back to me, his hands nearly flying over the piano. I felt as if I was witnessing something intimate.
“Come in,” he said, startling me. I’d been certain he hadn’t heard me enter, but I did as he asked and stepped farther inside the room.
I noticed he had a few snacks on a table next to the piano, plus a bottle of wine. I snapped my gaze back to him as he started playing again. He looked incredible. Passion poured out of him. He was so damn sexy, moving those muscled arms over the keyboard. Even his back was sexy. I stood a few feet behind him, not daring to move. What if I messed with his creative muse? I had no idea how that worked, but I didn’t want to risk distracting him.
Once he was done, he spun around to me, straightening up.
“What did you think?”
“It’s beautiful. Is this from the new album?”
“No, it’s something that came