Page 52 of My UnTrue Love
“Because Clem’s here.”
Johnny’s frown deepened, not liking that simple answer. Bill acted like Clementine was his, whenJohnnyhad been the one who’d known her forever. Nothing she felt for the coyote could compare to her bond with Johnny. Everybody knew it.
“Rosalee tells me you’ve been posting shit online.” Johnny hadn’t bothered to check into what exactly, because he was an artist, not some boring PR guy. He hired people to handle all his social media stuff. “You should be more professional, you know? Clem’s big on positive fan interactions.”
“She seemed pretty positive about mine, back at our apartment.”
Johnny bristled at the reminder that this dickhead was now Clem’s roommate. “Look, Clementine and I are having a private meeting. Why don’t I have her call you when we’re done?”
The thieving cowboy didn’t take a hint. Clementine’s eyes were still closed, the song blaring in her ears. She always got lost in music.
Bill adjusted his body, so he was right next to her. He reached over, drawing her attention. His fingers traced over her skin, like he had every right to put his hands on her. Like Clem was just some whore he could fondle. His calloused thumb slowly dragged along the delicate flesh of her inner wrist. Somehow, the caress seemed much more intimate than it actually was.
Johnny hated that.
Clementine’s eyes popped open, already knowing who’d touched her. Her smile was full of sunshine, when it shone on Bill. Glowing with tacky exuberance and her whole heart.
Johnnyreallyhated that.
“Right on time!” She exclaimed, the headphones making her talk too loudly. “And in a blue shirt, too. Wow, navy looksgreaton you. Aren’t you glad you listened to me?”
“Always, darlin’.” Bill rested his other palm on the counter behind her. His arm was now wrapped around Clem, even though they weren’t touching. How did she not see how inappropriate that was?
“What? Oh! Hang on.” Clementine paused the music, as if it was no big deal and it didn’t mess up the flow. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you. Johnny wanted me to listen to his new song.”She leaned closer to Bill and lowered her voice. “I think he’s having some problems with it.”
“No, I’m not!” Johnny protested, even though… yes, he was.
Bill made a “huh” sound, his gaze on the computer screen. Without asking, he reached over and restarted the tune, unplugging the headphones so he could hear it too.
Johnny really,reallyhated that.
This time through, it was like every flaw was magnified. All the stuff Johnny knew wasn’t working wasseriouslynot working. The second verse was somehow off, and the intro was too long and none of the backup musicians were in key.Johnnysounded great. Of course he did. But the production was definitely letting him down.
Clementine was quiet, as the song finished. Her eyes flicked up to Bill.
“Huh.” Bill said mildly.
Clementine nodded, as if she’d expected him to say exactly that. “Maybe if he added some strings to the bridge?” She offered. “Fiddles aresounderappreciated.”
Bill lifted one shoulder, like he’d heard worse ideas.
“And the lyrics could be smoother in the second verse.”
Bill gave a thoughtful grunt.
“The guitar part needs to be redone, for sure. No one could make that kind of arrangement work, except you.”
Bill made a modest face. “Nah, I couldn’t have salvaged that mess.”
“Oh, I’msureyou could’ve. You have such a flawless talent. It pushes through everything.”
Bill seemed touched.
“Overall, though…?” She trailed off.
Bill nodded in grave agreement.
Clementine cleared her throat and looked back at Johnny. “This song isn’t a hit.” She told him, summing up their inarticulate analysis. “It’s got no passion.”
