Page 30 of Submitting to Them
“All right.Let’s do this.”
We record it five different times.I’m tempted to hire someone to put together the best of all five takes into one “perfect” recording, but Ella doesn’t have the funds for that, and I don’t think she’ll accept what she views as charity.So I help her pick the best one of five, then I send it to her.She uploads it to her VideYou channel and takes a huge breath.
“Doing all right?”I ask.
“Yeah.I need to practice some more songs so we can come back and record another one next week.”
“Ah, princess.”I kiss her forehead.“You’ve caught the bug.I’ll sit right over here while you show me what else you’ve got.”
I watch and listen for an hour, and then my sick mind starts coming up with ideas for how I could arrange her on that piano bench and fuck some sweet notes right out of her.I don’t want to interrupt her practice time, though, so I force my attention to my phone for a minute.Scrolling through my PhotoGram feed, I see that I’ve been tagged in a few re-posts.
My jaw drops.Artists who I’m friendly with—current, popular musicians—are sharing Ella’s video.A couple have tagged me, knowing (rightly) that I’d be into the music.One of them adds a note.I’m telling my agent about this girl—Bastian, you should tell Trina.
Fat fucking chance of that.I guess the news hasn’t gotten around that Trina is facing all kinds of charges for her role in my early retirement, and then her attack on Ella.But the fact that other musicians are taking note of Ella’s music?Damn, this is incredible.
Ella didn’t want me to share her video before, because she didn’t want her fame to be a result of knowing me.But now that other artists are sharing it, it would be weird if I didn’t, right?
I listen to her singing and playing in front of me, right here in this room.Even if I didn’t know her I’d be impressed, and I’d share this video I’ve been tagged in.
So I click the little “re-post” button and send it out to my followers.
Kingston
The worst thing about Kristin’s kidnapping is she doesn’t have any family to advocate for her.I’ve never met anyone who is so alone and disconnected.In the absence of those familial ties, I’ve been doing my best to check in at the police station.Her abduction is on the news.
Of course it is.An upper-class white woman, grabbed from the street in an expensive part of town.People are going to take notice.
It’s unfair to everyone else, but I hope the attention can somehow help Kristin.
When I get back to my apartment, late on Wednesday night, Ella is curled up on the sofa, frowning at her phone.
“Everything okay, sweetheart?”I ask.
“Yeah.”She smiles up at me.“Any news?”
“No.”I collapse on the sofa next to her.Not only have I been trying to help both Ironwood and the police department in finding Kristin, but I’ve been trying to keep Tyler Analytics running and do not only my job, but as much of Kristin’s as I can.Marco Ruberetta refuses to be ignored.And he’s not the only one—we have other clients, too, who require their businesses to run despite horrific things happening in the world, like a woman’s kidnapping.
Ella reaches up to cup my cheek, running her palm over my whiskers.“You look tired, Daddy.”
“It’s a rough day.But coming home to you is a definite bright spot.I could get used to this.”
“So could I.”
Her smile is subtle, but it’s there.
“Don’t tease an old man,” I say.“Are you hinting that you might…?”
She laughs.“I’m wondering if the offer’s still open.”
“You’ll do it, then?”I ask her.“You’ll move in with me?”
She presses her lips together.“Yes.But I have questions.”
“Ask me anything.”
“What about my furniture?Pretty sure you don’t want it here in your place.But if we break up…”
I tug her closer.“We’re not going to break up.But I can put it in storage for you, in your name, and I’ll cover the costs.And if for some reason you need it back, it’ll be there.”
