Page 41 of Hired By My Rich Baby Daddy 3

“And maybe I will, but not right now. I need time to think.”

He looked disappointed, but he nodded. “Aight. My bad for interrupting your day.”

“Mhm.”

PB started toward the door, then stopped and looked back at me.

“I meant what I said, though. I wanna figure this shit out with you. Whenever you’re ready to talk, call me.”

I kept my arms crossed and watched him leave with all the muscle-headed, buff niggas he had arrived with.

Once the door closed, I looked around at the flowers, dress, and shoes surrounding me before shaking my head. Part of me wanted to call him back, but every time I looked toward my living room, I could still hear those gunshots.

It was a nice gesture, but this was definitely not the right fucking time.

A few hours later…

Oaklynn was running around the living room playing with her toys, picking them up, bringing them over to me for a second, then running right back off to go get into something else. Noree was sitting next to me, quiet, her arms crossed over her chest like she was still trying to hold herself together.

I looked over at her. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Yeah, I do.” She let out a breath. “But just the thought of all this shit is pissing me off.”

“Yeah, I know. I get it a hundred percent.” I leaned back and stretched my arm out across the top of the couch.

“So now what?” she asked.

“We gotta get on it ASAP. Derez said he can schedule a radio interview with The Morning Hour so all this can blow over.”

The Morning Hour? They were one of the most well-known and respected morning radio shows in Atlanta.

“Okay. When?”

“Honestly, he’s been getting calls back-to-back since this morning. Everybody wants a piece of this shit. They all wanna be the first ones to break the story, so the quicker we get ahead of it, the better. Tomorrow morning, I can do the interview. But he wants you there too.”

Her eyes went wide. “Wants me there to do what? I’m not PR-trained. Hell, I’m not trained to do interviews at all.”

“Yeah, but if you wanna sing, if this is the type of life you want, you gotta get used to it.” I chuckled a little, thinking back. “My first couple of interviews, I was nervous as shit too. Eventually, I got over it.”

“Oh my God.” She hopped up and started pacing. “I don’t know what I’d even wear. My hair needs to be touched up, and what about my makeup?”

“All that’s gon’ be taken care of. Ain’t nothing you gotta worry ’bout on that end. But I told him I’d run it by you first.”

“Okay.” She stopped pacing for a second and looked down into my face. I licked my lips, looking up at her. “So, if I say yes…” She paused again. “We don’t have to bring Oaklynn, do we? ’Cause I really don’t want her in the limelight right now.”

“No, I’m with you on that one.” I shook my head. “The main thing Derez wants us to focus on is the song. And he said that, depending on how well it does, he’s interested in talking to the label and putting in a good word to get you signed as a new artist, but only if he can manage you.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Hold the fuck up. Are you telling me I’ll be able to record my own music?”

“In a sense, yeah. You’ll be able to write and record your own music, but there’ll be stipulations. Unfortunately, in this business, Derez has a lot of say over the sound, the image, which song becomes the single, the cover art, all that. The label makes the final calls, but he’s tight with the label heads and knows how to get what he wants. He’ll give you creative control, but only as much as he’s comfortable with.”

She paused for a moment, thinking that over. “Wow. I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Yeah. It’s up to you, though. I don’t wanna force you to do anything you don’t wanna do. And if anything, this is all on me. I’m willing to take full accountability for my part in it and speak my truth. But the last thing I’m gon’ do is let Ginger paint a narrative about me that ain’t true. Especially with people already feeling like I got a big ego, like I’m not down-to-earth. A lot of shit has changed since the contest, but people still act like I’m an asshole. And her face being bruised up ain’t helping nothing.”

I sighed and wiped my hand down my face. She sat down on the couch next to me and put her hand on my shoulder.

“I’m in,” she said.