Read Online I Want You to Want Me (Rock Star Romance #2) by Erika Kelly - Free Book Online
Authors: Erika Kelly
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the girls in the pool. Basically, he said, ‘He’s not a bloody muppet, for Christ’s sake.’ So that’s good.”
That
was
good news. He hated Irwin thinking he needed a babysitter.
“So, Violet, tell us the game plan.” Slater leaned back on the bench seat, one arm slung on the back of the cushion, his other hand on Emmie’s thigh. “What happens now that you’re signed on?”
“I’m just going to observe for a while. I’d appreciate another twenty-four hours, so I can get a feel for your routines, your interactions. After that, I’ll come up with some suggestions.” She gave Derek a quick look—gauging his reaction? “And then I’ll implement them.”
“What kind of suggestions?” Slater asked.
“Last night you guys mentioned the adrenaline rush you experience after a show. I’ll come up with alternatives to expending all that energy.”
“There’s no alternative to fucking, sweetheart.”
The only give-away that he’d pissed her off came from the way her gaze dropped to the table. Taking a breath, she shifted, turning her back on Emmie and Slater, making her close in on him. It was all kinds of weird the way she could make him feel this rush of intimacy with her. “I need you to do something for me, Derek.”
Damn, that voice. All soft and kind. It killed him. Dug right into the roots of his anger and yanked. “Just talk, okay? Don’t use your psychotherapist voice with me.”
She ignored him. “I need you to wipe out all your expectations about me, get rid of the resentment. You’re the leader of this band. You might all be the same age, equally talented, whatever, but you’re clearly the leader. So if you’re not on board, if you’re treating me like you can barely tolerate me, you’re going to undermine my efforts. And none of this will work.”
“Not my problem, babe. You do your job, I’ll do mine.”
Emmie gasped, but Violet didn’t even glance at her, just held his gaze, keeping him locked on to her.
“If you don’t want me here, I’m happy to leave. I’ve got other things I’d like to do.”
“Derek,” Emmie said, a warning in her tone.
Still, Violet ignored her. “But if you’d like my help, if you want to see if I can turn things around, then I’ll give you a hundred percent. And in return, I need the same level of commitment from you.”
“You’re questioning my level of commitment?” He looked at Slater and Emmie. “I give a hundred fucking percent to this band. No one’s as invested as I am in its success. But playing games with you? Sorry, not interested. Like I said, you do your thing. I’ll do mine. Anything else we need to talk about, sweetheart?”
She rested a hand gently on his forearm. “I’m going to say this once nicely, okay? Don’t call me terms of endearment like that. You’re not Humphrey Bogart, this isn’t the fifties, and I’m not some tart who’s dying to give you a blow job.”
Derek just stared at her. How did she deliver such a hard-ass punch with that sweet expression?
“It’s condescending and patronizing,” she said. “You don’t need to put me in my place. I’m quite clear what my role is, and it’s not catering to your ego. I have one purpose here, and that’s to help. I’m not your commanding officer. You don’t have to take my suggestions. But while we
are
working together, I’ll need you to address me in a respectful manner. Okay?”
“Fucking hell.” He pulled out of the booth, yanked open the fridge, and reached for a cold bottle of water.
Two weeks
into their first tour. This should be the best time of his life. Headlining festivals up and down the Eastern Seaboard with his band?
Come on
.
What the fuck happened?
He heard them talking behind him, but he tuned them out.
He didn’t need anyone to tell him what course they were on. He saw where they were headed if they didn’t get their shit together. And there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d prove his father right. This band would not
That
was
good news. He hated Irwin thinking he needed a babysitter.
“So, Violet, tell us the game plan.” Slater leaned back on the bench seat, one arm slung on the back of the cushion, his other hand on Emmie’s thigh. “What happens now that you’re signed on?”
“I’m just going to observe for a while. I’d appreciate another twenty-four hours, so I can get a feel for your routines, your interactions. After that, I’ll come up with some suggestions.” She gave Derek a quick look—gauging his reaction? “And then I’ll implement them.”
“What kind of suggestions?” Slater asked.
“Last night you guys mentioned the adrenaline rush you experience after a show. I’ll come up with alternatives to expending all that energy.”
“There’s no alternative to fucking, sweetheart.”
The only give-away that he’d pissed her off came from the way her gaze dropped to the table. Taking a breath, she shifted, turning her back on Emmie and Slater, making her close in on him. It was all kinds of weird the way she could make him feel this rush of intimacy with her. “I need you to do something for me, Derek.”
Damn, that voice. All soft and kind. It killed him. Dug right into the roots of his anger and yanked. “Just talk, okay? Don’t use your psychotherapist voice with me.”
She ignored him. “I need you to wipe out all your expectations about me, get rid of the resentment. You’re the leader of this band. You might all be the same age, equally talented, whatever, but you’re clearly the leader. So if you’re not on board, if you’re treating me like you can barely tolerate me, you’re going to undermine my efforts. And none of this will work.”
“Not my problem, babe. You do your job, I’ll do mine.”
Emmie gasped, but Violet didn’t even glance at her, just held his gaze, keeping him locked on to her.
“If you don’t want me here, I’m happy to leave. I’ve got other things I’d like to do.”
“Derek,” Emmie said, a warning in her tone.
Still, Violet ignored her. “But if you’d like my help, if you want to see if I can turn things around, then I’ll give you a hundred percent. And in return, I need the same level of commitment from you.”
“You’re questioning my level of commitment?” He looked at Slater and Emmie. “I give a hundred fucking percent to this band. No one’s as invested as I am in its success. But playing games with you? Sorry, not interested. Like I said, you do your thing. I’ll do mine. Anything else we need to talk about, sweetheart?”
She rested a hand gently on his forearm. “I’m going to say this once nicely, okay? Don’t call me terms of endearment like that. You’re not Humphrey Bogart, this isn’t the fifties, and I’m not some tart who’s dying to give you a blow job.”
Derek just stared at her. How did she deliver such a hard-ass punch with that sweet expression?
“It’s condescending and patronizing,” she said. “You don’t need to put me in my place. I’m quite clear what my role is, and it’s not catering to your ego. I have one purpose here, and that’s to help. I’m not your commanding officer. You don’t have to take my suggestions. But while we
are
working together, I’ll need you to address me in a respectful manner. Okay?”
“Fucking hell.” He pulled out of the booth, yanked open the fridge, and reached for a cold bottle of water.
Two weeks
into their first tour. This should be the best time of his life. Headlining festivals up and down the Eastern Seaboard with his band?
Come on
.
What the fuck happened?
He heard them talking behind him, but he tuned them out.
He didn’t need anyone to tell him what course they were on. He saw where they were headed if they didn’t get their shit together. And there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d prove his father right. This band would not
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