Troublemaker (Songbird #6) Read online

  Clearing my throat, I steered my car into the underground parking lot and paused to grab my ticket. I clutched it between my teeth and started looking for a spot. I never did like public parking and was still annoyed that all the visitors’ spots outside Torrence Records had been taken. My wheels squeaked on the concrete as I turned down another layer. I was going to kill Scarlett and Isla for this. One drunken dare was not supposed to lead to a job interview.

  “You have to apply!” Scarlett shrieked at me. “You might get to meet Chaos!”

  I sipped my Merlot and wrinkled my nose at Isla’s laptop. “Who is Chaos again?”

  Scarlett had practically jumped me for that one, and Isla had started filling in my application, pretending to be me. She even attached a photo and sent it from my email account.

  It had been a joke! I was a college dropout! I’d expected my application to be snickered at then thrown in the trash. When I called and told Isla I had an interview, she’d burst out laughing. I’d hung up on her unsympathetic ass.

  “So-called friend,” I muttered, the ticket sticking to my glossy lower lip. I threw it onto the seat with a disgusted humph. The only way to get out of this with my dignity still intact was to nail the interview.

  Shit, I was nervous. I’d never had to sit through an interview before…not one where I actually wanted something at the end of it. No bulbs would be flashing, my parents’ arms wouldn’t be wrapped around me, and I wouldn’t be talking to a camera. I’d be sitting in a chair all by myself, looking at a real person. There would be no barrier of dazzle to protect me.

  I spotted a set of taillights and accelerated toward them, tapping my finger on the steering wheel while I waited for the car to reverse. I ducked into the free spot and flicked off the engine but kept the music pumping while I gripped the wheel and sucked in as much oxygen as I could.

  This was insane.

  If my parents found out I was going for a personal assistant job with a music company, they’d both have seizures.

  “But you’re Kelly DeMarco, the heiress to Echelon Fashion!” Dearest mother’s snobbery would leach out of every word as she stated the obvious, and then Daddy would jump in. “My angel, I thought you were going to work with me.”

  How did I tell him that was the last thing I could handle?

  I might have spent the last six months living in one of their apartments, and yes, I was sponging off them financially, but that didn’t mean I wanted to spend my days at the Echelon offices in LA. I couldn’t bear the thought of working alongside my father, not after what I’d found out.

  A shudder twitched my spine, and I killed the music. I flicked down the shade and checked my appearance. If I was going to have any kind of luck, I needed to look good. Beauty was the one thing I had going for me.

  I gazed at my blue-gray eyes, made vibrant by the chocolate-brown shadow I’d added to my eyelids. I ran my fingers over my thick strands of shiny dark hair, flattening the couple of stray hairs that had popped up on the drive over. I smeared some more gloss over my crimson lips and smacked them together. With a nod, I flipped up the shade and forced my brittle legs out of the car.

  I smoothed down my jet-black skirt and straightened the chic blouse my father’s top designer had made for me a few weeks earlier. It had a lustrous white pinstripe that made the fabric shimmer when I moved. Thanks to my mother, I had the perfect figure for the catwalk, and since Daddy’s designer loved me so much, I was often his guinea pig for new designs. Happy to be. I’d barely spent a penny on my Echelon wardrobe.

  My satiny heels were loud and sharp on the cold concrete. I hustled to get out of the dingy parking garage. The exit stairs smelled foul, and I nearly got attacked by a piece of gum and two dead cigarettes on my way up to the sunlight.

  “Ugh!” I checked the soles of my shoes to make sure they were still clean, then gripped my Prada bag and crossed the street. The Torrence tower loomed before me, and I had to remind myself to breathe as I pulled back the door and smiled at the guard.

  My heels echoed on the high-polished wood. I glanced around the shiny lobby, keeping an eye out for Chaos—Scarlett would expect nothing less. All I saw were a couple of suits on the square black couches having an animated conversation while they sipped from their Starbucks takeout cups.

  The woman at reception smiled and asked for my details. I signed a book and was then handed a pass.

  “Eighth floor,” she murmured then turned away to answer the phone. “Torrence Records…”

  I rode the elevator alone and in hyperventilating silence. By the time I reached the right floor, my hands were sweating again. I rubbed them on the back of my skirt and tried to step out confidently. The office space was open and bright. Two charcoal sofas cornered a bean-shaped coffee table. I headed past them to the rounded reception counter and was greeted by a dark-haired lady with a bright smile.

  “You must be Miss DeMarco.”

  “Kelly.” I nodded.

  “Take a seat. I’ll let Mr. Chapman know you’re here.”

  “Thank you,” I squeaked and headed for the couches.

  The woman grinned at me again as she walked past in her navy fitted pantsuit. The jacket was too wide for her narrow shoulders and needed to be brought in at the waist.

  “You must accentuate your best features,” I could hear my father saying.

  I could tell from one glimpse what that lady’s body type was and how to make her look better. I closed my eyes, willing the judgmental thoughts from my mind. Growing up with a fashion guru and a model for parents, I had no chance of not judging everything anyone ever wore. It was like permanently living on the set of Fashion Police.

  College had been such a nice reprieve.

  Then Fletcher had happened.

  My throat thickened and I gripped my fingers together. I couldn’t go there, not moments before an interview. If I had any hope of pulling this off, I had to stay focused.

  Wasn’t it his fault I was even here?

  I had to succeed. I had to prove my mother wrong. I couldn’t spend another six months wallowing. My friends were right—it was time to woman-up and figure out what I was supposed to do with my life. None of my plans had played out the way I thought they would. My dreams for the future had been twisted, torn apart, and trodden on by the people I’d trusted the most.

  “Kelly.” The receptionist’s voice caught my attention. “He’s ready to see you.”

  Standing tall, I pulled my shoulders back and lifted my chin.

  It was time to prove everybody wrong.

  It was time to be more than just Kelly DeMarco, heiress to Echelon Fashion.

  Chapter Three

  Marcus

  I stared at the door. My throat felt like sandpaper. Leaning against the back of my desk, I gripped the edge and hoped I could get out a sentence without sounding like Donald Duck.

  This couldn’t be real. I hadn’t seen Kelly DeMarco since the day I graduated. I’d never forgotten the first time I saw her. It was my second day of sophomore year, and she’d been gliding past me with two girls. They were giggling and looking a touch nervous, the way all freshmen did in their first week. I’d stuttered to a stop and just stared at her. The earth stood still and a chorus of angels sang in my head until I was thumped on the shoulder by my big brother, Griffin.

  “Get your sorry ass to class, little bro.” He’d grinned then messed my hair, and I’d floated through the rest of my day.

  I patted my reckless locks, wishing I’d taken the time to style them. If I’d known, I would have put in a little more effort after the gym. My fingers skimmed my glasses and I whipped them off, throwing them on my desk just before she appeared.

  “Hi.” She stood in the doorway smiling at me, looking a million times hotter than the last time I saw her.

  It’d been graduation day—over five years ago.

  Her smile was still the same, though. My heart did a weird little hiccup.

  “Hello,” I squeaked then cleared my thr
oat and strode toward her with my hand extended. “Hi there.”

  Her long fingers wrapped around mine, her squeeze firm and confident in spite of the slight dampness of her skin. The towering heels she wore made her taller than me, and I felt every inch of the difference. I swallowed and let her hand go, still gazing at her perfect face. The faint dimple in her chin appeared as she tipped her head and smiled at me again. She was probably trying to figure out why I was acting like a mute fool.

  “Mr. Chapman, right?” Her full, pouty lips pulled into a stunning smile, and all I could do was nod.

  She didn’t remember me.

  Disappointment flashed inside. The way I’d dogged her in high school, I would have thought I’d left a permanent impression, but…

  My eyes narrowed at the corners.

  Wait a second.

  She didn’t remember me!

  Yes!

  I didn’t have to be nerdy Marcus Chapman anymore, the weird guy with pimples and a goofy grin. For the first time ever, the dynamic between us had shifted. For the first time ever, I had something she wanted.

  I stood a little straighter and beamed at her.

  “Please come in.” I pointed to the couch in the corner of my office. “Would you like a drink of something? Coffee? Tea?”

  “No, I’m good.” She smiled and drifted onto the couch like a swan gliding on a lake. Everything about her was elegant and beautiful. She really was the goddess I remembered.

  Her blue gaze dressed me down, her shaped eyebrows rising as she waited for me to find my voice and start the damn interview.

  “Right.” I cleared my throat…again.

  Pull it together, man. Not many people get to make a first impression twice!

  My red-hot reprimand gave me the boost I needed. I switched into work mode.

  “Right, okay, let’s do this.” I smoothed down my tie and took a seat opposite her. Flicking open her file, I scanned the information and decided one last test was in order. “I see you went to Beverly Hills High School.”

  “Yes.” She nodded, clasping her hands together.

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  “It was okay.” She shrugged then dipped her head with a chuckle. “Actually, high school was a breeze.”

  Her smile faded and she pressed her lips together. Her knuckles went a little white and I had to ask, “How about college?”

  She shuffled in her chair then picked a little nothing off her sleeve. “College wasn’t for me.”

  “I see you did three years of business studies at Stanford.” I gazed at her file. Curiosity sizzled as I tried not to be affected by the flash of sadness I caught in her eyes. “What made you quit?”

  Her delicate nostrils flared, and she glanced down at the coffee table between us. “Personal reasons, which I’m sure are not pertinent to this interview.”

  “Of course.” I gave her a light smile, hoping to ease the angst radiating off her. If she got the job, I’m sure I could siphon out the real story.

  If she got the job, who was I kidding? She was totally getting the job.

  Yes, she was underqualified.

  Yes, Marcia would be pissed.

  Yes, if exec found out, I’d be a fired man.

  But come on, it was Kelly-Freaking-DeMarco.

  She was getting the job.

  It had to look legit, so I ran through the rest of the questions. Most of her answers boosted me with confidence while only a few had me gulping down my doubts. I wanted to tell her that hiring her was a huge risk and that she’d really have to prove herself, but I didn’t want to put her off. I’d offer her the job, then once she’d signed the contract, I could give her that spiel. We chatted for about half an hour, and I went into detail for some of the things she’d be doing. She had no questions for me, so I slapped the file shut and dropped it on the coffee table.

  “Well, this all looks pretty good to me. How’d you like a job with Torrence Records?”

  Her head shot back while her smooth calf muscles flinched. “Really?”

  “Sure.” I nodded. “I think you’ll be great.”

  “Wow.” Her laughter was breathy. “I, um…okay.” She nodded. “I didn’t think you’d…” Her head shook while her lips did that fish thing. No noise came out.

  It reminded me of that time in high school when she and a mousy freshman were caught sneaking in late by Assistant Principal Higgins. That woman could terrify anybody. Kelly had goldfished for a minute, while the other girl blinked at tears and started sniffling. Kelly, a junior at the time, had put on a charming smile and lied, taking full blame in an effort to save the new freshman. Higgins wouldn’t give an inch, issuing after-school detentions on the spot then clipping away. I’d flashed my hall pass when she glared at me, then I’d turned to head back to homeroom, but not before spotting Kelly flipping the bird at Miss Higgins’ back. The sniffling girl gasped then started giggling. “Thanks. Sorry you got detention, too.”

  “No big deal.” Kelly had shrugged at the girl she obviously didn’t know.

  The freshman scampered off to class while Kelly’s unchecked smile flashed in the empty corridor. It’d been a glimpse of something she never showed anyone, and only validated my unwavering infatuation for her. There was a ton of spunk hiding beneath the show she put on for everyone, and I made it my senior-year mission to try to unearth it. Too bad it was an epic fail.

  I swallowed, the memory excavating my old high school insecurities. “Do you…not want the job?”

  “Yes! I mean—” She scratched her temple and let out a nervous titter. Her nails had that French manicure thing going on. It looked pretty. “I just wasn’t expecting such a quick offer. I have no qualifications. I mean, I…” She opened her mouth to say more then pressed her glossy lips together.

  “We’ve all got to start somewhere, right? I’m the youngest manager here and yeah, it’s daunting sometimes, but I know I can do it. I am determined to be the best manager this company’s ever seen, and I wouldn’t be able to say that if someone hadn’t given me a shot.”

  Her hesitant smile grew to full bloom, making her eyes sparkle.

  Damn, she was the most beautiful creature this world had ever seen.

  I slapped my hands on my knees and stood before she caught me drooling. Turning away from her, I wiped my mouth then slid my hands into my trouser pockets. “Right, well, I’ll get Marcia to email you the contract. You can look over it tonight and give me a call in the morning with your final decision.”

  “Sounds great.”

  Unable to help myself, I beamed at her, feeling like the freaking man as she rose from the couch and moved toward me. I wanted to skip to the door and do a little twirl, but reined myself in before complete humiliation. I had to play it cool. She didn’t know I was the geek from high school. She only knew me as Mr. Chapman—her soon-to-be boss.

  I walked her to the elevator and tried to subdue my smile by a few shades. I didn’t need her remembering my goofy grin from five years earlier. The elevator doors dinged shut, and I ambled back to Marcia’s desk. “Could you please email a copy of the contract to Kelly so she can look over it tonight. She’ll call in the morning with her final decision.”

  “So, you don’t want to look through the other applicants then?”

  I shook my head, struggling to control my grin.

  Marcia’s jaw worked to the side, her expression anything but impressed. “You didn’t let your head do the thinking, did you?”

  My cheeks grew hot as I squeezed the nape of my neck.

  She rolled her eyes. “Since when did you turn into Bryce?”

  “I didn’t.” I held up my hand, slightly insulted by the idea. Bryce was a dick…and proud of it, for some weird reason.

  Marcia’s dimples appeared as a hot blush worked its way up my neck. “Oh, so the fact she looks like a Milan model had nothing to do with it?”

  I adjusted the knot of my tie before smoothing it down my chest. “She’ll be fine. We’ve all got to start s
omewhere, right?”

  “You know, she’s the daughter of Enrique DeMarco. That girl doesn’t need to start anywhere. Her family owns a fashion empire.”

  “How do you know that?” If my memories from high school were correct, Kelly tended to keep that info pretty low-key.

  Marcia’s lips pursed then grew into a cute little smile. “I Googled her. Something about her name sounded familiar.”

  I grinned and leaned my arms against the desk. “Fashion empress or not, she obviously wants this job or she wouldn’t have applied, right?” I glanced at the elevator doors, wondering what had gone down at college to make a girl like Kelly walk into Torrence Records in the first place.

  I was determined to find out, and I was going to do everything in my power to make sure the sad heartache that swept across her face never surfaced again. Kelly was looking for a new beginning, and she was going to find it at Torrence.

  I’d make sure of it.

  All I could hope was that she didn’t remember my geeky high-school self before signing the contract.

  Chapter Four

  Kelly

  I waggled the pen in my fingers and stared down at the dotted line on the bottom of the contract. Biting the corner of my lip, I poised the pen above the line and paused for the thousandth time since reading the damn thing.

  I’d been pausing all freaking day.

  After leaving Torrence Records, I stuttered my way to the car then hiccuped to the gym. I fumbled through Zumba class, screwing up most of the steps. The afternoon instructor approached me at the end to no doubt ask what my problem was, but I managed to slip out the door before she reached me. I finally stumbled through the apartment door at around four-thirty, only to knock over two of Isla’s boxes.

  I glanced at the stacked boxes in the living room, that familiar tug of dismay trying to pull me down. She was leaving that weekend. Moving in with her fiancé and abandoning me. I tapped my pen on the table, the rhythm growing fast and demanding as I imagined how empty and quiet the apartment would be without my roomie.