All Note Long by Annabeth Albert Page B

sweatshirt in a hideous shade of rust. A split second look at Carlos’s face told him that the truth wasn’t saving his job. And here was the universe sending him a clear sign that his teacher’s poster was full of crap. “Because he’s my boyfriend,” Lucky amended.
    If you’re going to lie, at least be convincing. That piece of advice was direct from his cousin Enrique. “I’ve been seeing him a while and he needed the soda I had in my locker—”
    â€œHa.” Carlos laughed. Actually chortled. “That’s a good one. You? Dating a big music superstar? You can barely get parts in those two-bit drag queen music videos. No way is someone like that dating someone like you. Nope. Not buying it. You’re still fired.”
    It seriously burned that Carlos was totally willing to believe that two bills was Lucky’s going rate, but didn’t see him as rich-and-famous-boyfriend material.
    â€œHey, sweetie, ” he said over Carlos’s shoulder. “I’m just trying to clear up the big misunderstanding from last night.”
    Carlos swiveled his head to discover Michelin over his shoulder. Carlos was at least a foot shorter than Michelin; he looked up at him with nothing less than awe, especially once Michelin removed his hat. “You . . . you guys are seeing each other. For real?”
    â€œTotally.” Lucky was proud that he didn’t cross his fingers behind his back as he nodded his agreement.
    â€œYou’re full of it,” Carlos said to Lucky before turning toward Michelin. “No offense.”
    â€œNone taken,” Michelin said mildly. “I’m sorry for all the inconvenience this has caused. You’ll get a call from my financial manager Monday to see if there’s anything we can do to . . . smooth things out as you deal with the hassle of the press.”
    Michelin didn’t sound at all like the shy, fumbling guy he’d been last night. Yet another sign that Lucky had been played but good. And of course Michelin was looking to solve Carlos’s beef with cash. Welcome to life with a sugar daddy. As soon as they got alone, Lucky was going to put down some rules about this shit, but right now he just nodded.
    Carlos looked thoughtful, as if the adding machine in his head was trying to decide what Michelin might be good for. “All right. It was a . . . miscommunication. And I look forward to that call. But, Lucky, I’m still not sure what to do with your rule-breaking ass.”
    â€œYou can’t fire me. I need this job.”
    â€œYou’re not firing Lucky.” Michelin’s words were spoken with the firmness of someone with the cash to back them up, a fact that burned Lucky up. His words should carry just as much weight.
    Carlos sighed heavily. “Fine. Leave of absence. You can’t deny you’re a giant distraction right now. And all the . . . smoothing in the world can’t rid me of the paparazzi out front or the ABC breathing down my neck. Leave of absence until the stuff with the authorities blows over.”
    â€œThat sounds fair,” Michelin answered for Lucky.
    â€œIt is not—”
    â€œYou’re about to be very busy,” Michelin said in that mild but firm tone of his that probably had the rest of his minions hopping to do his bidding.
    â€œI’ll leave you two . . . lovebirds. ” Carlos snickered as he headed back down the hall. “And Lucky? Clear out your locker.”
    After he was out of earshot, Michelin took a step closer to Lucky and lowered his voice. “Thank you for agreeing to this—”
    â€œOh, Papí, I haven’t agreed to shit yet.” Lucky shook his head. “And we’re going to get one thing straight right the hell now. You don’t speak for me.”
    Lucky might be about to make a bargain with the devil, but he was going to make certain he got something out of this deal and that he got to