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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 herplace 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.
