Riffs That Ruin (Survival Records #2)

8. Raina

M y heart drops into my stomach, and I can’t stop myself from slightly jumping in my seat. The interruption stops me from tumbling into a panic attack, which I couldn’t be more grateful for. That’s the last thing I’d want to happen in front of my current audience.

A small shred of satisfaction runs through me, knowing I’m not the only one who gets startled. The bastard’s spine becomes rigid, his body tensing as his fingers curl into fists. He at least has an excuse—his back was to the door—but I’m not sure how I didn’t notice a woman standing there. She must’ve come in when the others left, though I couldn’t tell you why she decided not to make her presence known.

“Who the fuck are you?” Dickless spits out.

I take in the professionally dressed woman. Her tailored pantsuit, high ponytail, and bold lipstick give her an air of intelligence and an aura of don’t fuck with me. I like her instantly, and it has nothing to do with the way she’s unsettled the owner of Lexington Productions.

Her dark brown eyes are sharp, taking in Dickless in a single sweep of her gaze. She steps forward—her black hair barely swaying with the movement, like it knows better than to step out of line—and holds out a hand. “I take it you’re Mr. Lexington, the owner of Lexington Productions. My name is Isabella Flores, Raina’s manager.”

He takes the offered hand, but it seems to be an action born from muscle memory more than a conscious decision.

Isabella takes her hand back and grabs the strap of her bag. “I look forward to working closely with your office.” She gives him a civil smile, but I catch the fire burning in her eyes. “I hope I’m mistaken, but it sounded like you were fixing to amend my client’s contract without proper representation.”

She tilts her head and waits for an answer. The woman hasn’t even officially met me yet, and she’s already sticking up for me. She’s actually doing her job, not to mention doing it exceptionally well. I want to burst into tears at having someone who’s truly in my corner, not just saying it with empty words.

I could fucking kiss her. She’s already gained my confidence that she could win this fight.

My thoughts return to the tasteless request he made, and I have to wonder why he didn’t ask for more shows. If he’s not doing that now, then when will he? What other bullshit do I have to look forward to? At the same time, I can’t help but think about my fans. The tour dates have already been released, tickets have been sold. The Storm Chasers are counting on me.

“The conversations I have with my niece are none of your business,” he growls in response. “Learn your place or you’ll be out of here before you even discover where the bathroom is.”

I’m not sure if that was meant to be some kind of dig about her being a woman or what, but it didn’t quite land right.

My new manager slowly takes a breath in, her facial expression never changing or giving away what she’s thinking. “All due respect, Mr. Lexington, but the moment you mentioned my client writing a song for someone else and performing it with them, it became my business.”

I’ll give it to the woman, she has no fear, zero qualms about going toe to toe with the shark that is the owner of the world’s top music label. Spoiler, he didn’t get there honestly.

With my fans in mind, I jump in the middle of their soon to be argument if the building tension in the air is anything to go by. “Uncle,” I call, but have to pause as bile rushes up my throat. Fuck, do I hate addressing him that way. “Let me meet with my manager, and I’ll have her get in contact with you when I have an answer.”

Dickless scowls, clearly unhappy with the turn of events, but he knows if he fights against this, it won’t look good for him. There’s no way it wouldn’t come off as him trying to take advantage of me.

“Very well.” He stands and brushes his hands along his clothes, trying to remove wrinkles from his impeccable ten thousand dollar suit. “Darius has been instructed to keep an eye on you if he wants a place in my label. His test is being able to keep your wildness in line. Please try not to squander this opportunity. His talent shouldn’t go to waste, and I can assure you, this is the last chance you’ll be given.”

My new manager flicks her eyes up and down after he passes, as if she’s weighing his worth and ultimately finds him lacking. She narrows her gaze and purses her lips. It’s clear she’s been keeping these expressions from appearing on her face while he could catch her. It’s good that she can remain professional when it counts, considering who we’re dealing with.

“I’ll send Alyssa in,” he says in lieu of a goodbye.

My fist tightens around the coffee cup, and a scowl tugs at my lips. Before I’m able to say anything, Isabella is already on it. “This will be a closed door meeting with my client at this time, but thank you for the kind offer, Mr. Lexington.”

The door clicks closed, giving me the much needed space required for me to breathe normally again. I’m not sure there will ever be a day I can be in the same room as him and not be consumed with memories of the abuse he’s put me through, with phantom remnants of the repetitive assaults crawling across my skin.

A shiver runs through me, but a millisecond after it starts, the weight of a hand and unforgiving wood of a drumstick presses against my lower back. I tilt my head to read Keaton’s face, knowing he’ll want to say as little as possible around strangers.

He tilts his head down and raises an eyebrow. Are you okay?

“I’m fine. Thank you for staying,” I whisper, watching as my new manager blows out a breath and strides toward me.

“I wish I was able to introduce myself before jumping right in and taking charge. I hope you don’t mind, Miss Lexington.” She holds her hand out for me and gives a firm handshake when we clasp. “My name is Isabella Flores, but you can call me Izzy.”

“Don’t mind at all, Izzy. It was great to see you in action right off the bat.” I wave my hand at the couch. “Shall we take a seat?”

“Of course,” she instantly replies. I return to where I was before, and Keaton stands behind me like a bodyguard. She gives a side glance at the spot where Dickless was sitting and moves to the spot next to it.

She’s quickly becoming one of my favorite people. Reaching into her bag, she takes out a tablet and swipes her finger over the screen as she continues. “I’ve already contacted the label to get your current schedule, and the lawyer sent your contract. I want to assure you that I’m here to protect you and to manage your career in a way that leads us to your ultimate goals.”

Relief rushes through me. I’ve never heard these kinds of things from Alyssa. If the interaction with Dickless didn’t happen, I’m not sure I’d be so willing to believe her, but despite all my past experiences, I really do. It’s refreshing to have someone in my corner for once. Well, excluding my band.

“Now, before we get started on talking about your career goals, I’d like to discuss what I walked in on.” She rests her tablet on her lap and gives me her full attention. “What are your thoughts about what he asked for?”

All the composure I fought so hard for shatters, and I can’t hide the anger coursing through me. “Over my dead body.”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say. I didn’t want to give my opinion first since we don’t know each other, but that doesn’t have any benefits from what I can see.” She picks up the tablet again and makes a few notes in an app. “I’ll see what I can do about his request for compensation, but unless this person is under contract with the label, there shouldn’t be a reason for it unless he’s attempting to claim a finder’s fee. Let me see what I find out, and I’ll get back to you.”

“Thank you. Asking me that really threw me off. I had assumed he was going to request I perform more shows,” I tell her. She’s instantly made me feel so comfortable with her that it seems natural to open up and share my thoughts.

Izzy holds a finger up, asking me to wait a second, and after tapping on the screen a few times, she turns her tablet toward me, showing a February calendar with different colored boxes scattered across it. “Green is for tour dates.” She swipes her finger so March is showing. “You’re scheduled for thirty shows. I don’t understand why he’d ask you to add more. It’s already a lengthy tour when you only had a few left before your respite.”

“That’s the thing; they keep telling me I owe more and more. Just the other night they said I had to do another show if I didn’t attend an after party. At the current number, I should only have sixteen more, and yet that doesn’t match what’s already scheduled.” I let out an exhausted sigh. It’s been way too much keeping up with all of this.

A hum fills the silence as she taps on her screen. “This we can work with, I suppose. It goes against your contract to constantly renegotiate what you are obligated to give them. I’m guessing you wouldn’t want the scandal and upset that goes along with canceling shows?”

I give her a weary smile. “You’ve nailed it. The fans come first in this instance.”

Izzy holds a hand up. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but can you tell me what it is you’re supposed to be getting out of this new arrangement?”

I shut my mouth and drop my gaze to my lap. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that not everything about my life is broadcasted to everyone. It really freaking sucks having to admit what happened to someone else, but a necessary evil nonetheless.

“The lead guitarist of my band went missing after our first show in Chicago. It left us in a bind, and Mr. Lexington had someone step in for the second show. He warned me that I needed to have a replacement by tonight.” I let out a deep breath and run a hand over my face. Deep exhaustion suddenly settles in my bones. “I was more concerned with finding Tristan. He’s the one who arranged for someone so I could avoid the risk of canceling.”

“Hmm… I see.” Her gaze turns toward the door where she narrows her eyes and purses her lips in thought.

“Like I said before, I’m not willing to partner with Carmen on anything, and I also don’t want to disappoint my fans. I know he’ll find a way to twist a cancellation back on me. I’m hoping maybe you can figure out a way to navigate through the mess.”

“I’ll make this a priority to get taken care of ASAP. Perhaps there’s a way to have you make it out on top.” She tilts her head, watching me for a second. “Would you like me to work on finding the missing guitarist? Tristan was it?”

A relieved sigh rushes out of me. It’s like a huge weight is lifting off my shoulders. I’ve been a one woman show for far too long. “Yes, please. I’ll send you his information and the contacts I have working on looking for him already.”

“Of course. Here, let me airdrop my contact so you can reach me anytime you need.” Once I have it saved in my phone, she continues on. “I don’t want to overwhelm you in this first meeting, so I’d like to chat with you over the coming weeks to get to know exactly what you need from me. Throughout the tour, I’ll be by your side and available for any assistance you may require.

“My job is to take care of everything so you can focus on the music. If at any time you find something that distracts you from doing that, don’t hesitate to tell me what it is, or you can tell my assistant, Gill. She’ll be in charge of various aspects of the tour, like the runners, and anything having to deal with logistics support. She’ll be vital in keeping things operating like a well-oiled machine.

“Would you like me to travel on The Storm with you?” She pauses to let me answer, but I can tell she has a million things running through her mind, quickly processing everything she needs to do and organize. I really appreciate that she’s done her homework and came prepared with a bulleted list. It’s a striking difference from what I’m used to.

“I don’t feel that’s necessary, but I’ll let you know if I change my mind.” The thought of sharing my private time with yet another person has me internally cringing. Which reminds me of the gorgeous Darius, and subsequently the comment Nash made. I have to track him down…

“Totally understand a desire for privacy when you can find it. I’ll have Gill drive me, and there’s plenty of budget in the label’s deduction of your earnings to cover the use of another fleet car.” Under her breath, as if she’s making a mental note, she says, “Speaking of, I need to go over that and refine it. They’re deducting way too much.”

Turning her focus back on me, she gives a wary smile. “One more thing before I leave you, I know you need to get warmed up and have a sound check. How do you want to deal with the media discussing you dating one of your band members?”

Instinctively, my mouth opens to respond, but I find I don’t have an answer. I’ve never been asked my opinion on managing my PR. Keaton squeezes my shoulder. With a single glance at him, I interpret what he’s saying. “We’ll discuss it as a group and get back to you.”

“Excellent,” she quips, packing up her tablet and positioning the strap of her purse on her shoulder. “You have my number, and I’ll be close by if you need anything. I’ll get started on cleaning up the operation so we can move on to more important things, like your career goals.”

“Thank you so much for being here, Izzy. I appreciate all the hard work I know is coming your way.” I almost feel like giving her the biggest hug… you know what? Fuck it. I close the distance and hug her quickly before stepping back.

Her expression softens from the surprised shock on her features. “It’s my pleasure, Raina. You deserve to have all the support after what you’ve been through.”

This time, it’s my turn to rock back in shock. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve had plenty of experience with the vile nature of the paparazzi, and I’ve done my research before taking the job. I might not know specific details of what you’ve been through, but I’m well versed in reading between the lines.” She softly squeezes my arm. “I’m here for you and will support you in anything you need. I’ll be the protective big sister you’ve never had.”