Page 162 of Paint the Town, Dove
I kept my promise.
I broke something that night.
But it wasn’t his heart.
***
Present
Paisley Devora was… not what I expected.
At the club, I vaguely remember her dressed to the nines talking with Tav. I wasn’t there for the general band meeting between Ryden and Paisley.
But standing in front of me, she looked like –
“I don’t want to be here,” Paisley said, slumping into a rolling chair with a bag of chips in hand. “Like, literally at all.”
“Paisley, we talked about this. It’s just one song.” Her manager’s name was Kyle Binx. Tall, blonde, old. Looked like he bought a record label because he needed a tax write-off.
“Why can’t I work with Savannah?” She whined, burying herself in an oversized hood. Stains and holes were present. I looked down at my Rag and Bone jeans, Chloe boots and YSL turtleneck.
Yeah.
Not what I expected from an “upand coming” popstar.
I expected Yasmine.
How could I not?
The bane of my fucking existence was Yasmine Ryvetts for the duration of sixteen months.
Paisley Devora was pretty, naturally unpolished and completely indifferent to working with Ryden.
I didn’t know this side of Ryden… I didn’t even know what wewere.
Was this,fuck I can’t even say it– exclusive?
We didn’t talk about it over the holidays.
We didn’t…talkmuch.
As if he read my thoughts, he nudged his knee to my mine. “What do you think?”
“I’m literally right here,” Paisley snapped.
“Iliterallyknow,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “I was asking my manager.”
My face burned at the thought of feeling threatened, feeling jealous. It took me back five years, the first time I ever felt a surge of shame for thinking of my best friend as something more. But the feeling was back, and now every emotion was raw and new and painful and bright and us –
This new feeling wasus.
I cleared my throat. “What do I think about what, Mr. Spectre?”
His lips lifted to a smirk.
“Say my name, Dove. I want to hear you say it in a way I’ve never heard before…”
“Our partnership,” Ryden smoothed out the flashback ever so subtly, leaning back into his chair. “Do you think it’s beneficial for my career? To fix my image?”
