Giving Chase (Incendiary Ink #1)

34. Look At Me Now – Eliza

Look At Me Now

ELIZA

Walking into Blackmore Records holding Chase's hand feels surreal. Like crossing a line I've policed for twenty years. The security guard, Manny, who's watched us maintain "professional distance" since the Clinton administration, can't hide his grin. The receptionist's eyes go wide as she fumbles her "Welcome back, Ms. Kerr, Mr. Avery." By the time we reach the elevator, the entire lobby's buzzing.

"Having fun?" Chase murmurs, clearly enjoying the reactions. His thumb draws lazy circles on my palm – a gesture he used to restrict to private moments.

"Shouldn't you be meeting James right now instead of escorting me to my office?"

"Can't I do both?" He grins. "Besides, I like being able to walk you to work without having to pretend I'm here to discuss 'marketing strategies.'"

The elevator opens and Michelle's waiting, practically vibrating with glee. "Well, well, well. Look who finally learned to use the front door instead of sneaking through the garage."

"That was one time," Chase protests.

"That was at least twelve times. Karen in security kept a log." She falls into step beside us. "Board's ready when you are, boss. And James is in the small conference room preparing for his meeting about digital streaming rights, touring schedules, and how to market the comeback of the year." She winks at Chase. "Also, apparently Accounting started a betting pool years ago on when you two would finally get together. Pretty sure Janet just won enough to retire."

"Subtle," I mutter.

Every employee we pass has a different reaction. Tina from Legal gives us a knowing smirk – she had to review all those carefully worded contracts keeping business and pleasure separate. The marketing team practically squeals – they've been sitting on a "love story twenty years in the making" campaign for a decade, according to Michelle.

"Ms. Kerr," my assistant Sabrina stands, professional as ever despite her barely concealed smile. "The board is gathering in ten minutes. And Mr. Avery, James asked me to remind you about your eleven o'clock discussion of publishing rights and tour logistics."

"Thank you, Sabrina." I turn to Chase. "That's your cue to go talk business with someone who isn't sleeping with you."

"Yes, ma'am." Then, because he's Chase, he kisses me right there in front of my entire department. "Dinner later? That new place on Sunset you've been wanting to try?"

"Assuming the board doesn't fire me."

"Then they'd have to sign us to a different label. Though I hear Universal's very interested in our 'evolved sound and established fanbase.'"

"Go. Talk to James."

His laugh follows him down the hall. Michelle appears at my elbow with coffee and that smirk she's perfected over two decades of watching us pine.

"The marketing team is already planning how to spin the comeback announcement," she says as we head toward the board room. "'Rock's greatest love story returns to the studio' is currently winning. Though your love life is generating more buzz than the actual music. Justin's already texted me four different memes about you two."

"Wonderful."

"Oh please, you're loving this. Oh look, a new text, Janet in Accounting says thank you. Her retirement party's next week."

“You’re fucking hilarious, as always,” I say, turning into my office and giving her a wicked grin as I close the door slowly between us.

The board meeting goes exactly as expected. Concerns about conflict of interest. Questions about professional boundaries. Until finally:

"And you're certain you can maintain objectivity?" Harrison peers at me over his glasses. "The streaming rights alone for their back catalog?—"

"I maintained it for fifteen years while they were actually signed to us," I remind him. "Through nine platinum albums and a very public Grammy kiss. The only difference now is I don't have to pretend not to care about their frontman."

"And the potential signing? The 360 deal terms?"

"James will handle everything. I've already recused myself from negotiations. Though I hear their new sound is," I can't help smiling, "evolved."

"Speaking of James..." Michelle pokes her head in. "Sorry to interrupt, but he'd like you to stop by their meeting. Strictly as label President, of course. Nothing to do with the fact that your boyfriend just approved the tour schedule you secretly helped design."

The small conference room buzzes with energy. Chase, Will, and Mark sprawl in chairs while James gestures enthusiastically at a whiteboard covered in plans for digital marketing, streaming platforms, and tour dates.

"Ms. Kerr," James straightens. "Perfect timing. We were just discussing promotional strategy for the comeback album. Initial market research suggests an enormous appetite for both the new sound and the... personal narrative."

"Don't let me interrupt." I lean against the doorframe, catching Chase's eye. The way he still looks at me after twenty years makes my heart skip. "Though I have to ask - will there be any songs about secret office romances on the new album?"

"Nah," Chase grins. "Thinking of writing about being disgustingly happy instead. Will's already threatened to quit if I get too sappy."

"You're twenty years too late," Will groans. "We've been playing your love songs this whole time."

"Every. Single. Album." Mark agrees. "Though the new stuff is actually good. Less angst, more actual emotion."

"The streaming projections for the first single are incredibly promising," James soldiers on, professional despite his growing smile. "And the tour presale numbers?—"

"What he means is," Will translates, "people really want to see these two make heart eyes at each other on stage now that they're allowed."

"Some of us still pine," Mark protests. "Keep the brand consistent. Though maybe fewer songs about grey eyes in this album?"

"Meeting," James reminds them. "We're having a meeting. About actual business. Publishing rights? International distribution? Anyone?"

I leave them to it, heart full. Twenty years of separating personal and professional, and now...

"They're going to be incredible," Michelle says, falling into step beside me yet again.

“Are you stalking me or something?” I glare at her sideways.

She ignores me. "The comeback album of the decade. Also, Justin says he's writing a song called My Mom's Dating a RockStar . Says he'll premiere it at Janet's retirement party."

"He wouldn't dare. That’s a joke, right?"

"He absolutely would... but unfortunately, yeah, I think it’s a joke. Oh, and TMZ wants to know if you're wearing an engagement ring in those Cleveland photos."

“Jesus Christ,” I sigh, already worn out from everything hitting me all at once. "I'm not."

"Yet," she sing-songs.

I roll my eyes at her as we reach my office just as Chase's laugh echoes down the hall. The sound fits here now. Belongs here.

Just like we finally belong to each other.

Properly. Publicly. Professionally. Personally.

In broad fucking daylight.