Chapter 8 Anticipation

• [Brielle’s POV]
• I stare in disbelief at the words in front of me. How? How was it possible that I missed this? There was no way!
• “You changed it,” I hiss, snapping my gaze at Mr. Roger's amused one. “You had to! I read the whole thing!”
• “It seems you didn't,” he chuckles. “But as you can see, if you decide to walk out of this office, then you will be paying the company twenty thousand. What will you choose?”
• What would I choose? What would I fucking choose? Of course, I would choose to stay. I barely had a thousand to my name. Forget twenty grand! Dammit, he had me, and he knew it; that was why his handsome face was fixed in such a smug expression. It really wasn't fair for a devil to look so damn good.
• Taking a breath, I push the contract back to him and then take a seat. Crossing one leg over the other, I cross my arms and then fix my narrowed gaze with his.
• “Twenty grand,” I begin, coming up with a plan. “I earn that, and then I'm free, correct?”
• For now, I would play along since I didn't have any other choice, but that didn't mean I would be here forever.
• Twenty grand could be achieved in a year if I worked hard enough; I was sure of it. This company produced some of the biggest names in music, and to be picked by them out of many meant I had potential.
• “That's right,” Mr. Rogers responds. “But until then, you're mine.”
• At his words, I feel a tingle run through me, and I'm once again reminded of how much his voice reminded me of L. However, I needed to stop mixing them up. He wasn't L, and he was a pyscho. I needed to remember to keep a distance between us, but would that be easier said than done? Even now, as I sit here, I can see the interest and desire in his eyes as he takes me in like a hungry predator, and if I'm being completely honest with myself, I kind of like it.
• “If we're done with your tantrum,” he says, leaning forward and giving a slow, seductive smile. “Shall I give you a tour of the studio?”
• “Sure.” I had no reason to refuse, and honestly, being out in the open was better than being alone in his office. “Lead the way.”
• Smirking, Mr. Rogers gets up and comes around his desk. When he stops beside me, he holds out a hand that he clearly expects me to take, but I ignore it and get up.
• “I'm not helpless.” I smile.
• “And here I thought we had something special after that moment between us last night.”
• Shivering, I try to ignore the memory of his arms and hands on me the previous night. Where he touched came alive, but he would never know that.
• “I'm already interested in someone.” I shrug, needing to draw a line between us. “So you thought wrong.”
• “Nothing lasts forever,” he chuckles before beginning to move while I remain in place, trying to process his words. “Are you coming?”
• “Of course.”
• Snapping out of my daze, I begin to move, following Mr. Rogers out of his office and down the hall until we reach a glass window.
• “This is double-sided glass,” he explains as we watch a beautiful woman with jet black hair and an angelic face sing. “We can see in, but they can’t see out.”
• “Kind of creepy,” I huff, tearing my gaze from the woman and fixing it on him. “Doesn’t it strike you as stalker behavior?”
• For a monet, he doesn’t speak as he takes me in with an unreadable expression, but when a smile begins to form on his face, I know I haven’t offended him.
• “You see it as that, and we see it as allowing the artist to do what they do best without any pressure.” He counters. “If you could see us staring at you at all times, would you be able to perform at your best?”
• Frowning, I consider his words, and when I realize that he is correct, I don’t bother responding. I guess it was slightly creepy and would leave me uneasy, but it also excited me to think about so many eyes on me. However, there was only one set of eyes I wanted on me at all times, and that was L's.
• “Was this all you wanted to show me?”
• The sooner we finished with this tour, the sooner I could leave for the day and contact L. By this point, my phone had gone off a few times, and I was sure it was him, but I didn’t dare check it as I was technically at work, and that would be unprofessional.
• “Nope,” Mr. Rogers responds, still unphased by my attitude. “Come along.”
• Remaining silent, I allow him to continue to show me around the studio until we finally reach the exit.
• “That’s it for today,” he announces. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Eight sharp and wear something nice as we will be going to meet your first client.”
• “First client!" I gasp, shock rolling through me. “But I was just signed.”
• “Did you think that you were going to be a trainee?” He asks, eyeing me in amusement. “You’re a signed artist, and as such, you need to start networking as quickly as possible. Unless you don’t want to, then..."
• “No!” I gasp, regretting my words. “No, it’s fine. Eight sharp tomorrow morning, I’ll wear something nice.”
• “Then I’ll see you tomorrow, little one,” he chuckles, before turning and heading back into the building while I watch on dumbly.
• As I stand there, I try to make sense of the whirlwind of a day I just had, but before I can think too hard on it, my phone begins to vibrate, and when I pull it out, L’s name flashes on the screen.
• Feeling my heart squeeze in anticipation, I quickly answer it and take a few calming breaths.
• “Sorry for not answering sooner,” I begin. “I was just…”
• “It’s okay,” he chuckles, sending delicious tingles through me over the sound. “I’m sure you had an eventful day. Congratulations on getting signed.”
• Beaming, I quickly climb into the car that is waiting for me and then get comfortable.
• “Thank you,” I giggle.
• “It seems that I was right in sending you a congratulatory gift,” he continues. “Have you arrived home yet?”
• “No,” I sigh, growing impatient as I begin to wonder what exactly he could have sent me. “I just got in the car, but I should be there soon.”
• “Great,” L says, his voice full of anticipation. “Please do let me know when you’ve arrived and opened my gift. I think it is something we will both enjoy.”
• “Both?” I squeak, unable to believe what I’m hearing. “What is it?”
• “You’ll see soon enough, little songbird.”