Page 60 of Love's Free Will

Oop.

We’re keeping our eye on this one—but if you ask us, it looks like another Hollywood love story just got swept into the gutter.

Stay glossy, stay messy,

– XO, Lipstick Confidential

#AveriStClaire #RoyalTeegan #ConcreteCrumble #CovenCancelled #SituationshipScandal #LipstickExclusive

I scanned the headline once. Then again. My pulse thumped in my ears as my eyes locked on the words:

Royal seen stumbling out of a strip club, visibly intoxicated, with one of the dancers clinging to his arm...

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to cry. Not here. Not in this hallway. I was tired of crying over him. Tired of feeling everything so loudly. Tired of pretending it didn’t hurt when it always did. I took a deep breath. Then another. Then I muttered to myself quietly, under my breath:

“You’re good. You’re fine. Just make it through this meeting. Don’t let him be the reason you crumble today.”

I slipped my phone into my bag, fixed the collar of my blazer, adjusted my bag on my arm and lifted my chin.

When I walked into Logan’s office. I looked like I had it together, but inside, I was breaking in places no one could see. Still, I put on a brave face just as he stood up from behind his desk.

“Thanks for coming.” He smiled gently, eyes telling me he’d seen the ‘exclusive’ from Lipstick Confidential as well.

“I still don’t know why I’m here.”

“Just checking in. I heard about what happened with Royal and?—”

“Let me stop you. I know damn well you didn’t call me all the way here to talk about Royal’s ass.”

“I just, I wanted to make sure you were straight.”

“I don’t have time for this Logan…”

He opened his mouth to respond, but then the door behind me opened. I turned around and nearly choked.

Lux LA. The man himself. One of the most legendary rappers in the game—and co-founder of this very label. He stepped in smooth, creamy caramel skin glinting under the lights blemish free, lower grills shining as he nodded at me dripped in designer from head to toe with two Cuban links around his neck. The smell of Gucci Guilty wafting from him as he passed me. “Averi St. Claire. Been hearing your name a lot lately.”

“Good things, I hope,” I managed, suddenly very aware of the sweat under my arms. It should have been a sin how fine this man is. His wife was a lucky woman, pushing 40 and looking younger and better than some of these so called YNs.

Lux chuckled. “Depends on who you ask.”

I laughed a little, then sat down when Logan motioned to the chair across from his. Lux opted to sit on the edge of Logan’s desk too close to me for comfort.

“We wanted to bring you in because we’re impressed,” Logan said. “Not just by your work with Royal, but what you did for Heaven too.”

Lux chimed in. “That track you wrote for her? Grammy award winning. You’ve got an ear most people spend decades tryna develop.”

I blinked. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

Logan leaned forward. “We wanna offer you a deal, Averi. An exclusive songwriting and producing contract. You’ll work closely with our up-and-coming talent—early access to songs,beats, full production rights, royalties, credits. We want your name stamped all over the next generation of hits from LA Records artist.”

My heart skipped. It was everything I’d wanted. Everything I’d worked for. But… “I can’t say yes without conditions,” I said softly.

Lux raised an eyebrow. “Talk to me.”

“I have a creative partnership with Egypt Armstrong, she helped me write that hit for Heaven.” They nodded in acknowledgement. “Okay, well since Tisch we made a promise to each other. I can’t sign anything that stops me from working with her. I get it, that’s not how business works and sometimes we have to make sacrifices but on this I cannot and will not budge.”

Logan nodded slowly, looking at Lux. They exchanged a glance, then Lux leaned back. “We can work with that,” he said. “As long as it’s just her.”

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