Forbidden Billionaire Rockstar (Raising Havoc Bandmates #4)

1. Mallory

1

Mallory

Three Months Later

My hands shake as I reach for the door handle of Sweet Surrender's office building. I take a deep breath, smoothing down my blazer one last time.

The scent of leather and perfume fills my nostrils, a stark reminder of how far I've come from the dive bars I used to frequent. This is it. My chance to prove I'm not that girl anymore.

The girl who spent more time in clubs than classrooms.

The girl who woke up in strange beds more than her own.

The girl who slept with her brother's best friend.

I shake my head, banishing thoughts of Jace. I can't let him distract me. Not now. Not when I'm about to meet the band that could make or break my new career.

The upscale lobby gleams beautifully with chrome and marble. A woman behind the reception desk flashes me a bright smile.

"Hi, Mallory Dominic," I say, my voice steadier than I feel. I've got a meeting with Sweet Surrender on the top floor."

“Of course, Miss Dominic, they’ve been expecting you,” she says sweetly, then reaches into a drawer at her side and pulls out a fancy card. “This will get you onto their floor.”

I glance at her chest and locate her name tag. “Thank you, Helen.”

My heels click against the floor as I make my way to the elevator, my purse swinging from my shoulder with each step. When the doors open, I enter with my shoulders straightened as I press the number for the top floor, which is labeled PH.

Scooting back until I'm pressed against the wall my reflection in the polished elevator doors brings a small smile to my face. Gone is the party girl with messy hair and too-tight clothes. In her place stands a professional woman, every strand in place, every piece of clothing carefully chosen to project competence.

Normally, I’d flaunt every asset I know I’ve got, but instead, I’m wearing a loose red blouse that comes up to my collarbone and have it paired with a light gray blazer to go with the light gray dress pants I’m wearing. The only thing I couldn’t bear to dismiss were my red pumps, which give me an edge on the height that I’m sure I’ll desperately need.

When the elevators open, I take a deep breath and strut along the marble flooring that leads to a large wooden door at the end of the hall. I knock softly, flinching at the echo it leaves around me, but I manage to put a smile on my face when the door swings open.

A woman greets me, her gaze trailing over my frame with curiosity. Finally, she holds a hand out in greeting. “You must be Mallory Dominic. I’ve been waiting to meet you. I’m Hilary, Sweet Surrender’s manager.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say, smiling brightly like I’ve been training myself to do in situations like these. Our hands collide, her grip much tighter than it needs to be, and I arch a brow in silent question that she only smirks at.

“Shall we get started on the meeting?”

“Right,” she says before stepping aside and allowing me to walk past her. “The guys are down the hall, first door on your left.”

With my head held high, I follow her directions and come to a stop in a large doorway where the four bandmates are all leaning back in chairs. One of them stands, and the others stare at me with narrowed eyes. I simply smile in response.

They don’t trust me, which is to be expected after the shitstorm their last marketing manager made for them.

“Mallory, thank you for meeting with us on such short notice.”

Trevor Wallace is the lead singer of the band. His charisma is palpable.

He's also the one everyone can’t stop raving about when you bring up their name, and I can see why. He’s got that half-smirk thing going on, which I’m sure makes plenty of women melt at the sight of it, and a twinkle in his light brown eyes.

Unfortunately, I’m still stuck on a guy with piercing blue ones that I haven’t spoken to in months since our little rendezvous in my apartment.

I clear my throat and smile, nodding curtly. “Of course, bring me up to speed, and I’ll do everything in my power to fix things.”

Trevor waves me through the room, making sure to pull out an empty chair for me before sinking back into his own, and he sighs heavily. “We need damage control, especially since we are going on tour in a few weeks.”

“You’ll be joining us on the tour,” Ledger, their lead guitarist, mutters across from me with a brow raised. “You are aware of that, correct?”

Every detail was sent to my email, and I’ve poured over every word since I received it. Sweet Surrender needs me to accompany them on their tour, which they’ve yet to disclose for confidential purposes, so I can get their brand back on track from the last person who took charge of it.

“Yes, I’m aware and more than prepared for it.”

Ledger nods curtly but doesn’t say anything else.

“We’d like to have an interview scheduled with the band who’s headlining the tour, do you think you could manage that in such a short time?” Trevor asks.

“As long as you tell me who I’m scheduling the interview with, yes,” I say. “No one would disclose who you’re going on tour with, so I assumed I’d be told at the meeting today.”

Trevor frowns but nods. “Of course. We’re the opening act for Raising Havoc.”

My heart lurches, a mix of excitement and dread flooding my system. I force my face to remain neutral. "Raising Havoc? That's...unexpected."

He nods, then blows out a rough breath. “This is probably weird for you, working for a band that isn’t your brother’s, but I think you can give us our best shot of fixing things. Does this still work for you?”

As much as I want to scream that it doesn’t, that I can’t possibly be in the same vicinity as Jace, I plaster a big smile on my face and nod. “Of course. Whatever you need me to do, I'm your woman.”

Trevor’s shoulders slump with relief, and he chuckles. “That’s great to hear. Hilary will get you set up with an official contract, the NDA that’s required for all staff to sign, and she’ll walk you through everything we expect of you.”

Hilary doesn’t seem to like me very much, but I’m not about to mention that when I’m only just starting this job. Trevor rises from his chair first, then the rest of the guys follow right as Hilary comes waltzing through the door.

She’s a knockout, I’ll give her that, and she knows it. Her lips are painted a bright shade of red, making a statement that she’s untouchable, and her dress hugs her slender hips in a way that makes me think she’s trying to get someone’s attention.

This isn’t my business.

I have more important matters to focus on… like how the man I had an incredible night with is now going to be in the bubble I’ve carefully orchestrated for myself.

I've meticulously built a life that leaves no room for my old party-girl self. But every time I think I've finally buried that part of me, Jace appears, threatening to resurrect the woman I'm trying so hard to leave behind.

This time, though, I'm determined to keep that door firmly shut, no matter how hard he knocks.

Even though I’m growing nervous about the job at hand, I keep my face neutral while Hilary places different papers in front of me for my signature. Each one gets sloppier than the last, my hand cramping by the time we are finished, and when I glance at the clock, I realize I’ve been signing papers for well over thirty minutes.

I’ve got to talk to Julia about all of this. She can give me the advice I’m looking for.

But can I tell her everything? The whole truth about Jace? My stomach churns at the thought.

***

As soon as I walk through my apartment, I kick my heels off and let out a sigh of relief. My feet are aching, evidence that I’ve been wearing them too long, and I sink into a chair at my kitchen table before pulling my phone out.

While I wait for Julia to answer, I lift my legs up on the chair in front of me and reach forward to rub the soles of my feet. I groan loudly and let my eyes fall shut.

“Woah, am I interrupting something?” Julia asks on the other end, a shuffle following suit before she scoffs. “Not likely, since you’re the one who called me. What the hell are you doing?”

“Sorry,” I mumble. “Just took my heels off.”

“Ah, makes perfect sense.”

“There’s a problem,” I say softly, leaning my head back with my eyes still closed.

“And what might that be, dear friend of mine?”

“I’m working the tour for Sweet Surrender.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, then Julia coughs. “This is a problem, why?”

I groan, this time from frustration more than the bliss of relieving my aching feet. “You know why, Jules. Jace is going to be everywhere and insufferable.”

“You’ll be working, and I’m sure it won’t be so bad.”

“Try telling him that,” I mutter. “I’m willing to bet he’ll make some kind of remark as soon as he sees me.”

Julia chuckles. “Come on, Mal, you’re being a little dramatic.”

“Am not,” I grumble, then lean up in my seat and open my eyes. “You know how he is every single time he sees me. It’s like he can’t help himself.”

The truth burns in my throat, begging to be shared. But I swallow it down. Julia would freak out if she knew about that night with Jace. And Brent... I can't even imagine his reaction. No, this is one secret I need to keep.

It’s ancient history, an itch that desperately needed to be scratched. One that still hasn’t seemed to go away, much to my dismay.

“I’ll talk to Brent,” Julia finally says. “But I really don’t think you have anything to worry about. The guys focus on their music when it comes to the tours. I highly doubt Jace will be worried about pushing your buttons.”

“Right,” I mumble. “But, thanks, Jules. I appreciate it.”

We talk a little more about my new job before finally saying our goodbyes, and I drop my phone on the table beside me with a frown. If I want anyone to take me seriously while on this job, I need to have the clothes to prove I belong there.

The old Mallory is long gone, and my only way to prove that is a wardrobe change.

Thankfully, there haven’t been any other slip-ups, but that’s probably because I can’t bring myself to walk into a club without thoughts of Jace plaguing me.

No.

I’ve changed.

I shake my head, then march into my room for a change of shoes that will be much more comfortable for clothes shopping.

An hour later, I'm standing in front of a mirror in a high-end boutique, scrutinizing my reflection in a crisp white blouse and tailored black pants. Is this who I am now? The old Mallory would have scoffed at these clothes, preferring something tight and revealing. But as I smooth down the fabric, I can't help but feel a sense of pride. This is the new me – professional, put-together, responsible.

Still, as I reach for another blouse, I can't shake the image of Jace's face when he sees me on tour. Will he see this new version of me, or will he only remember the girl from that night three months ago?

Sweet Surrender won't regret giving me a chance, and I'll show them why. This is what I've worked my ass off for, even if I didn't quite trust myself to get here in the beginning — I'm not going to let it slip through my fingers.

***

As I collapse onto my bed, exhausted from shopping, my phone buzzes. A text from Julia.

"Hey Mal, guess what Carmen is planning for the tour?"

What now?

With shaking hands, I type back, "What?"

Her response comes instantly: "Raising Havoc has some special plans for promoting this tour. Carmen says there are promos planned with them together, including Sweet Surrender."

The phone slips from my grasp, landing softly on the bed.

I'm going to be working near Jace.

How am I supposed to focus on my job when he'll be there every day, a constant reminder of that night?

Universe, if you're listening, this is so not fair.

No. Everything will be fine.

Maybe if I keep telling myself that I’ll believe it, but there’s no such luck right now.

All I have to do is focus on the job I was hired to do. I barely have to look at Raising Havoc. They want me to set up a couple of interviews before the tour starts, one with Raising Havoc while the other is more of a solo interview, and I’m more than prepared to do that.

It was one night.

One amazing night that I keep replaying in my head every time I strip out of my work clothes. It’s infuriating that he’s managed to have this much of a hold on me, and I hate that I’ve briefly wondered if he’s had the same problem.