Page 36 of Unlock My Heart

“We’re not shutting down. We’ve just got to be smart these next few months; get things back on track.” I’m not sure if it’s substance abuse or if Michele always sucked at running a legitimate business, but this ship would’ve sunken faster than the Titanic had I not taken over. And as much as I hate Michele, I can’t let it sink. One, I’d go down with him, and two, so many people count on this place.

He nods resolutely. “And the band? They haven’t been paid in two weeks.”

“Let me handle it.” How I’m going to handle it on top of paying Remi, fuck if I know.

Michele’s door is open, and I hurry past it, hoping to avoid my husband. “Sienna,” he calls, and I inwardly curse.

“Yes, darling?” I stick my head in his office.

Michele crooks his finger, and I enter his office, closing the door behind me. The back of a female head pops up from beneath his desk.

It’s not lost on me that there’s a package and a box cutter.

Ha! Michele’s going to have to do better with his mind games; I couldn’t care less if one of the girls fucks him. In fact, better her than me.

The sloppy sound of a blow job fills the room, and I wait patiently for Michele to get to the damn point. “The new girl, Remi. Why am I not seeing her in the rotation?” He closes the hostess binder on his desk.

“Because Remi’s not one of the hostesses; she’s my personal assistant.” And by personal assistant, I mean she keeps the scary cat away from me.

“I want her recruited.”

“She’s not interested⁠—”

“Make her interested.”

“Very well.” I exit the office, trying to figure out a way around Michele’s directive. Not that Remi and I are friends—having wised up after the Jade fiasco, I have no friends—but this world is no place for someone as sweet as Remi Landry.

“What can I do to run your person off?” I ask Nola, who watches me with disdain from the back of my chaise lounge. “The mean boss routine hasn’t worked thus far, and there’s only so long I can dodge Michele.”

The cat answers by hiking her back leg, spraying my furniture.

“You little⁠—”

There’s a knock, and Remi enters.

“This fucking cat has pissed on my custom chaise lounge from Milan!” I shout, the noxious smell of ammonia filling my office. “I’m going to kill her and mount her head over my desk!”

“Come on, Nola. Let’s practice pottying outside with your harness and leash.” Remi’s training this supposed cat to walk on a leash. Getting Nola situated, Remi stands and clears her throat. “I was wondering if you had a chance to talk to your husband⁠—”

“If there’s a chance not to talk to that man, I take it.” I sigh dramatically.

“I meant, about me auditioning⁠—”

“Remi, I’m sure you’re a good cornet player,” I say, knowing damn well that she’s a pianist.

“Piano. I play the piano,” she reminds me.

“Piano.” I wave my hand at the pesky detail. “My point is, this stage is the hottest in town. Every musician wants to play here, and you have to be the best of the best to make the cut.”

“But if I could only audition⁠—”

“Real talk here, Remi. You’re too sweet for this cutthroat world,” I tell her honestly. “You’ll get chewed up and spit out.”

Crossing the room, I stick my head out my door, shouting, “I need a piece of furniture moved to the curb yesterday! And someone call the cleaners to deep clean my office!”

“Come on, Nola,” Remi ushers the cat along.

Jermaine enters, holding his nose.