Page 6 of Rekindled

Three

Las Vegas, Nevada – 1 month ago...

"Mr. Avery, Mr. Avery!" I heard over the music the moment I stepped past security. "Excuse me, Mr. Avery?"

Laser lights of varying rainbow hues lit up the place like light sabers, casting a beautiful glow over the skins of club patrons. The club was alive, bodies everywhere, either posted up at the bar or working up a sweat on the dance floor.

I dropped my view to the grip on my arm before I turned to the source of the voice. I met her hazel brown pupils through the strobes of lights in the club.

She smiled and batted her lashes. "Hi, I'm Carmen, but I go by Caramel Bliss."

Sounds like an ice cream flavor at Cold Stone,I thought to myself.

I'd only been in the building for a few minutes, which was honestly a lot longer than usual before women like Carmen approached.

The plan was to be back in New York at this hour, but I stayed behind to listen to a few new tracks off one of my label's artists' new LPs. I only stopped by the club to scope the place out since another artist of mine planned to host their album release party under this roof.

"I sing," Carmen screamed over the pumping music. "Here." She held a CD in a clear jacket above her cleavage that was in clear view thanks to the low dipVin her skintight gold metallic dress.

I smiled politely. "I don't accept unsolicited demos, sweetheart. If you want to have your music listened to, mail it to the label."

I turned my feet to face VIP, to continue that way when her grip on my arm tightened.

"I was thinking…" She stood on her tiptoes to reach my ear. "I could offer a live show, private. Just you and me."

I leaned away, far enough to meet her eyes again. She licked her lips slowly and stared right back at me with so much gall. I allowed my eyes to do a slow crawl down, passing her slender neck, full breasts and tiny waist. My guess was the music on the CD she insisted I take from her was bartered the same way she was trying to barter with me.

I moved close to her ear and said, "Give me your phone."

The biggest smile I'd seen that night spread across her lips as she pushed her hand into her matching metallic clutch and pulled out her phone.

She handed it to me and I handed it back. "Unlock it for me."

Carmen did as I asked and was quick to place the device back in my hand. I clicked into her notes app and pecked at the keyboard on the screen, peeking up at her to see her head turned over her shoulder. I followed her line of vision to a group of women who spied at our interaction from a distance. Carmen was my focus again, her smile still very present.

The moment I finished typing, I returned the device to her.

I watched as Carmen's smile slid off her lips, melting into a slack jaw.

"Right here in your notes app is the address in New York where you need to mail your demo," I told her. "Be sure to include a self-addressed stamped envelope so we can send you a response."

"But—"

"Have your manager do the leg work so you don't have to be out here doing more than you need to," I interjected. "As I told you before, I don't accept unsolicited demos. I also don’t accept unsolicited invites to private shows."

I walked off and was only a few feet away when she yelled. "I don't have a manager though."

"Get one," I yelled back without looking her way.

This was par for the course. Me, just ending my work day being approached with more work. But instead of my typical Wednesday night in New York City, I was getting solicited in the heart of sin city.

Artists like Carmen or Caramel Bliss as she introduced so proudly, came a dime a dozen. Because of the level of competition in this business, many Carmens believed they had to be overt these days to get a deal. To say it wasn't effective would be a lie. There were a few A&Rs I'm sure who would have taken the bait. Most wouldn't have even discussed a deal but would have definitely accepted Carmen's invitation and judging by her offer, she would gladly fuck her way to the top. She was for sure fine and was wearing the hell out of that dress. But that wasn't my focus. That's never been my focus in this business, and it was even less of a focus now.

"Kai!" Blair, another exec from the label I called home, Dope Records, shouted for me from his seat in VIP the second I stepped past the red velvet rope. "The Senior Director of A&R is finally in the building!"

"Stop it." I pointed at him, then held out my fist for a pound. "It's been a week since the promotion. You can quit saying that every time I walk into a room."

"Yeah, that ain't going to happen," Blair confessed over the music while gesturing toward the bar.

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