Page 71 of Dirty Love

Tabitha: Coffee in the lobby cafe in an hour?

Grant: Fine. But don’t get excited about anything crazy. No changes are happening.

~

I’m drinking a green tea when he arrives.

“You’re late,” I say, not quite looking at him.

He takes the seat across from me. “What’s going on?”

I take a deep breath and force myself to meet his gaze. I never hold eye contact with him. It hurts too much. For all the success he’s helped me achieve, he’s also the source of my greatest pain. “I want to make some changes.”

“Like what?”

“The fans aren’t excited about the concerts. They’re the same old thing. I want do something different.” I swallow hard. “I want to be something different.”

That triggers something inside him.

Good. Be afraid.

I’ve never cared that much about my image. I’ve let them craft me into what they want to be, but fuck it. Two more days, and I’ll be free to be whoever I want to be.

Maybe I should have done this years ago.

“Don’t be rash,” he says quietly. “Your fans love you.”

“Then why haven’t they turned up? We made tickets as cheap as we could make them. Hmm?” I shake my head. “They aren’t my fans. Not really. They love what I sing when it’s on the charts, because it’s easy to consume. Sexy and fun. But once I drop off, poof. They’re on to the next hot single. That’s not to my benefit. That’s maybe to your benefit, if you’re looking to find the next hot young thing.”

Another flare in his eyes, andholy shit.

“Grant?” My voice chills. “Are you looking for another client?”

He doesn’t answer me.

“Good luck with that,” I say, standing. “Good fucking luck.”

He snaps his hand out and circles his fingers around my wrist. “Nobody wants an angry bitch, Tabitha.”

He’s wrong. Wilson wants an angry bitch. And that’s all that matters. “Fuck you, Grant.”

“This isn’t over.”

If everything goes according to plan, I might never see him again, and that would still be too soon. But I don’t want the last words between us to be his. I look him straight in the eye. “You were right, by the way. I have been sleeping with him. And only him. For months.”

Fighting a shudder of revulsion, I slide my wrist out of his grasp and head for my room.

I don’t look back, not even for a second.

—thirty-three—

Wilson

By Saturday evening, we have no idea how this is going to go down.

Jason did a friendly reach out to the local Feds, saying he was following a lead on behalf of a client, but they were extra tight-lipped.

That could either mean they’re about to make a bust, or they have no clue what he was talking about and had totally missed everything I’d fed them.

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