Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“Courtney?” Gina tilts her head with a questioning look at me. I look down at the phone, then around my house. I spent a solid year having the inside completely renovated. It’s one of the few Spanish villas left in Los Angeles. My contractor matched all the original paints, floors, light fixtures. We brought in an artist to restore all the old tile.
My main goal was to keep as much of the original décor as possible, while still upgrading. I did end up having to add a recording studio, and gym, along with an incredible outdoor kitchen. Other than that, the structure is the same.
This room is one of my favorites, with its whitewashed walls, and the entrance still having the original wrought iron gates. The incredible fireplace sits to the right side next to a long row of windows that allows you to see out into the manicured front yard.
Wisteria and climbing roses cover most of the front of the house, but it’s the giant Spanish fountain that holds you captivated.
It’s actually why I bought the house.
We’d filmed an episode of Family Love here when I was younger. The house wasn’t even on the market, but I took one step in the front yard and saw the stone fountain. It stands over six-feet tall, and there’s a couple entwined, almost ready to kiss, the man holding her and his guitar.
It’s so romantic, it spoke to me, touched me, I knew that this is where I belong.
I had the location manager get ahold of the owners, and for my nineteenth birthday, instead of partying, I was unpacking and feeling like nothing could touch me. I had a gorgeous boyfriend, a band that was topping the charts, money, fame. I felt as if I was invincible—funny how life has a way of keeping you humble. Just when you start to think you’re charmed, the universe slaps you awake.
“Courtney? You want anything?” Gina’s voice brings me back to the present and the fact that all eyes are on me.
“Yeah,” I clear my throat. “Chili cheese fries.” Pressing end on the unanswered call, I give her back her cell, frowning as she speed walks out.
“Is she acting weird?”
“She’s always weird. Now focus, I have news.” My eyes dart over to Malcolm’s bloodshot ones. “Ammo’s agreed to produce your next album.”
I puff out some air, because not gonna lie, when he mentioned it yesterday, I didn’t take him seriously. Ammo Adams has earned his label as a legend in the music world, and besides that, he’s fucking hot.
Disturbingly hot, really, like maybe this is not a good idea kind of hot.
“Wait.” Melanie holds up her hands. “You got the Ace of Spades to produce Courtney’s next album?” She looks at Malcolm kind of accusatorily, and for the first time in a week I feel a slight bit better. “Oh my God, he’s on my bucket list to fuck.” She squeals.
“Jesus Christ, Mel, show some respect. He’s a goddamn musical genius. Now, sign that napkin, Courtney, and get your ass over to his place, he wants to get to know you before you go into the studio.” Malcolm scrubs his hands up and down his face as excitement spikes through me.
Ammo…
The Ace of Spades…
Guitar royalty, strike that, music royalty, is producing my next album. I’m going to be working with him, closely. God, I can barely breathe.
“I’m coming also, I told you fucking Ammo is on my list,” Melanie states. “I ran into him at a party a couple years ago, and his bitch girlfriend at the time wouldn’t let me near him.”
“The hell, Melanie?” Malcolm looks at her like she’s grown horns.
“What? This is fate. And if half of what was printed in that tell-all book about him was real?” Her blue eyes are alive with mischief. “Holy fuckkk.” She waggles her brows at me.
“Stop it.” I laugh because, how can I not? Mel is literally squirming on the couch in a latex pink jumpsuit as Malcolm just stares at her.
“Are you out of your mind? That book was all lies, trying to slander him and the band. Olivia Todd wrote it, she was his ex-girlfriend making shit up to sell—”
Melanie holds up her hand, cutting him off. “The book literally has pictures, like a chart of each guy’s penis. Ammo, Granger’s, Nuke, Cash, all of them.” She slaps at my knee in excitement.
I take a deep breath because he’s just a man, and I refuse to let myself even think about his dick. If I decide to allow him be a part of my artistic vision, we will, of course, be in a professional work relationship only. There can be no romantic emotions involved.
I reach for the folded napkin. “You’re positive this is the right move? Like he understands how I work, right? He knows I’m not going to sleep with him?” My eyes narrow on Melanie who jumps up happily.