point was made clear and Grant will now cooperate with you.”
I gritted my teeth to keep from snapping at him. “Yes, but only because he feels he has no choice.”
“He doesn’t have a choice, Mallory, and neither do you or I.” I wasn’t sure what he meant by this.
“Mr. Hamilton, I feel like I’m missing something here.”
His brow shot up in question. “Such as?”
“Was Mr. Hardy telling the truth this morning? Did someone try to kill him?”
After a long pause, he answered, “You’re job is to rehab Grant Hardy, no more, no less. If you find you are unable to do your job then you are free to walk out that door right this minute with no questions asked.” Leaning forward he pierced me with his pretty boy stare. “You and I both know what a foolish mistake that would be, don’t we?”
Ignoring his question I addressed my other concern. “You mentioned wanting to keep the press from discovering the truth about what really happened that night. Did you take into consideration when you hired me that I’m not a complete unknown?”
He waved his hand dismissively through the air. “That was over ten years ago. Since then you’ve changed your name and…er…grown up quite a bit.” He was right on both accounts. Mallory Stephens no longer existed and Mallory Scott looked nothing like the girl I once was.
“But you found out and so can the press. What happens when they link the Mallory Stephens tragedy to Mallory Scott the drug and alcohol counselor?” I challenged.
“First off, CiCilia told me who you were. Otherwise I wouldn’t have known. Second, the press is good but not that good. If, and I mean it’s a big if, they were to discover who you are, we will do what we’ve always done.” His cocky smile worried me.
“Which is?” I asked.
“We spin it.”
I had no clue what he meant and was too much of a chicken to ask.
Chapter Five
A Change Is Gonna Come
Grant
D ick move Grant , I thought, as I watched her run out the door. What did Blane say her name was? Misty? No, that wasn’t it. Maybe it was Marlene? With her ice blue eyes and tight little body she was a tempting package. Too bad I wanted her gone like a bad case of the crabs. If I blamed anyone for this mess, it was Blane.
At the time Meltdown joined the label all we cared about was breaking into the industry. Who held the power in the label didn’t mean shit to any of us. Our goal was to spread our music as far and wide as we could. Getting paid to do what we loved was simply icing on the cake. Blane called all the shots but he was fair about it. He listened to our input and valued our opinions. Then things began to change. Blane wanted more. He wanted sponsors and backing that he alone couldn’t get. His father, however, could. None of us really understood what this meant. Blane was good at what he did and we trusted him. So, when he put together a management team comprised mostly of family members, we didn’t say a word. He assured us nothing would change, and for a while he was right. After about a year Blane’s father began showing up at meetings. He would sit in silence and listen but rarely said a word. I don’t know what happened but at some point he began voicing his thoughts and opinions. Sometimes we agreed with him and sometimes we didn’t. What I didn’t realize, until this morning, was how much the power had shifted. The old Blane would never have let his dad call the shots. Blane still talked a big game but it was apparent his dick of a father was now holding the cards. If it was up to me I would tell Blane, his asshole father and Happenstance to shove the contract up their asses and walk away.
“Are we starting set one with Breaking Stride?” Nash asked. Breaking Stride was our first song to hit the Billboard’s top 100. It had also been the first song on our set list for the past three years. I was hesitant to change it up.
My eyes darted to Chaz and he quickly looked away. I could tell by the
I gritted my teeth to keep from snapping at him. “Yes, but only because he feels he has no choice.”
“He doesn’t have a choice, Mallory, and neither do you or I.” I wasn’t sure what he meant by this.
“Mr. Hamilton, I feel like I’m missing something here.”
His brow shot up in question. “Such as?”
“Was Mr. Hardy telling the truth this morning? Did someone try to kill him?”
After a long pause, he answered, “You’re job is to rehab Grant Hardy, no more, no less. If you find you are unable to do your job then you are free to walk out that door right this minute with no questions asked.” Leaning forward he pierced me with his pretty boy stare. “You and I both know what a foolish mistake that would be, don’t we?”
Ignoring his question I addressed my other concern. “You mentioned wanting to keep the press from discovering the truth about what really happened that night. Did you take into consideration when you hired me that I’m not a complete unknown?”
He waved his hand dismissively through the air. “That was over ten years ago. Since then you’ve changed your name and…er…grown up quite a bit.” He was right on both accounts. Mallory Stephens no longer existed and Mallory Scott looked nothing like the girl I once was.
“But you found out and so can the press. What happens when they link the Mallory Stephens tragedy to Mallory Scott the drug and alcohol counselor?” I challenged.
“First off, CiCilia told me who you were. Otherwise I wouldn’t have known. Second, the press is good but not that good. If, and I mean it’s a big if, they were to discover who you are, we will do what we’ve always done.” His cocky smile worried me.
“Which is?” I asked.
“We spin it.”
I had no clue what he meant and was too much of a chicken to ask.
Chapter Five
A Change Is Gonna Come
Grant
D ick move Grant , I thought, as I watched her run out the door. What did Blane say her name was? Misty? No, that wasn’t it. Maybe it was Marlene? With her ice blue eyes and tight little body she was a tempting package. Too bad I wanted her gone like a bad case of the crabs. If I blamed anyone for this mess, it was Blane.
At the time Meltdown joined the label all we cared about was breaking into the industry. Who held the power in the label didn’t mean shit to any of us. Our goal was to spread our music as far and wide as we could. Getting paid to do what we loved was simply icing on the cake. Blane called all the shots but he was fair about it. He listened to our input and valued our opinions. Then things began to change. Blane wanted more. He wanted sponsors and backing that he alone couldn’t get. His father, however, could. None of us really understood what this meant. Blane was good at what he did and we trusted him. So, when he put together a management team comprised mostly of family members, we didn’t say a word. He assured us nothing would change, and for a while he was right. After about a year Blane’s father began showing up at meetings. He would sit in silence and listen but rarely said a word. I don’t know what happened but at some point he began voicing his thoughts and opinions. Sometimes we agreed with him and sometimes we didn’t. What I didn’t realize, until this morning, was how much the power had shifted. The old Blane would never have let his dad call the shots. Blane still talked a big game but it was apparent his dick of a father was now holding the cards. If it was up to me I would tell Blane, his asshole father and Happenstance to shove the contract up their asses and walk away.
“Are we starting set one with Breaking Stride?” Nash asked. Breaking Stride was our first song to hit the Billboard’s top 100. It had also been the first song on our set list for the past three years. I was hesitant to change it up.
My eyes darted to Chaz and he quickly looked away. I could tell by the
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