Controlled By The Billionaire

*****

Mel watched the disgusting man, Stewart, run from the cabana like a scared kitten. Apparently he worked for Tristan and that was enough to scare him away. Why did it seem people were so intimidated by this guy? Standing up slowly to gain her bearings back, Mel looked at him.

“I apologize for Stewart. He’s never been good at holding his liquor.” Tristan looked her up and down as he spoke and Mel shifted uncomfortably, hugging her sweater around her.

“I guess it’s okay to talk to the lowly help when they are almost assaulted by one of your employees?” Mel whispered snidely, pushing past him to exit the cabana. She ignored the brush of his muscular arm against hers and the way it made her stomach flip flop. He was so not her type.

Tristan smirked, a dark glint in his ice blue eyes. “Touché, Ms. Fairbanks.” He responded. Mel didn’t realize he heard her. “What is it that you wanted to talk to me about anyway?”

Mel froze at the door. Was he really going to listen? Taking a deep breath so that she wouldn’t chicken out, she turned around, trying to hide the bit of excitement at the prospect of finally having her music signed to a label.

“My music. I’m a singer and a songwriter. I play acoustic guitar. I wanted to play for you to see if you thought I was worthy of the Powers label.” Mel almost curtseyed but figured she didn’t want to push her luck and be too much of a smart ass.

Tristan chuckled, he actually laughed at her. Was he going to dismiss her again?

“Well then. I guess I owe it to you since you were almost assaulted on my property.”

Mel’s eyes went as wide as Stewart’s before he ran from the cabana. He was going to listen to her music?

“I will give you my card,” and as he said it he whipped the card out from a hidden pocket inside of his suit jacket, “and you can come by on Monday morning to play for me. How is that?”

Mel nodded, too shocked to actually answer. She took the card from him and started to walk away.

“Oh and Ms. Fairbanks?” Mel turned waiting for him to continue. “I don’t just do these types of things for free. If I like your music we will have to discuss an arrangement.” He looked her up and down once more. Why did Mel get the feeling this arrangement involved more than music?

*****

“What the hell happened to you? I’ve been waiting out here freezing my little white ass off.” Blake yelled, teeth chattering, when Mel walked out of the gates.

“Guess what happened, Blake!” Mel shrieked, ignoring her previous comment.

Blake raised an eyebrow at her and waited.

“That sleazy drunk guy from earlier almost assaulted me in a cabana…”

“Oh my God, Mel! Are you al…”

“I’m fine. He didn’t assault me, just let me finish. Tristan Powers himself saved the day, in his dark knightly way, and guess what he agreed to?”

“Um…”

“Dammit, Blake! He wants me to sing for him on Monday at the studio!” Mel yelled as they hopped into Blake’s car. Blake was being awfully dense tonight.

“Oh my God! I forgot that was your objective tonight. That’s so awesome, Mel. I bet you get signed. I can just feel it.”

Mel held up her hand as if to tell Blake to calm down. “Let’s not jump the gun here. I still have to wow him with my mad singing skills.”

Blake rolled her eyes. “I knew you would be a superstar the first time I heard you singing in my shower when we were twelve.”

“You have to say that, you love me.” Mel said.

Blake smacked her on the arm and they drove the rest of the way in silence. What if Blake was right? Would she wow him? Monday seemed so far away all of a sudden and Mel wasn’t sure how she would be able to wait one more moment.

*****

Mel stepped from the elevator, her heart pounding in her chest. It felt like someone had released a thousand butterflies inside of her stomach. Taking a deep breath, and willing herself not to turn and jump back onto the elevator, Mel moved towards the double glass doors of Powers Records. This was it; she was really going to play her music for a label. Shaking the nerves from her hands, Mel approached the reception desk.

“Can I help you?” The petite, pretty, Asian woman behind the desk asked.

Mel nodded, her words escaping her for a moment. “Uh, yes. I’m here to see Mr. Powers.”

The woman nodded. “Have a seat over there and he will be right with you.” She pointed to a small row of black leather seats in the corner.

Mel nodded again, feeling like a bobble head and made her way over to the seats. Waiting for what felt like hours, though Mel was sure only fifteen minutes had passed, she scrolled through her phone trying to occupy her time. The weight of her guitar against her knee reminded her why she was there and the butterflies began their dancing again in her stomach. After another agonizing five minutes, Tristan appeared in front of her, a dark look on his face.

Mel stood quickly, her guitar case clattering to the ground. “Sh*t!” She hissed, bending to pick it up.

Tristan bent at the same time and they collided, bumping heads. “Dammit!” he yelled, rubbing his forehead.

Mel rubbed her head too, stifling a laugh. This guy took himself entirely too seriously. Mel flung the strap for her guitar case over her shoulder and followed him; kept up with him was a more appropriate way to describe it since he was practically running down the hall away from her. Tristan finally stopped at a door to a sound booth, and Mel skidded to a halt behind him, panting under the burden of her guitar.

“After you,” Tristan said, waving her into the room.

Nodding again, Mel preceded him, stepping to the side against the back wall to let him through. There wasn’t a lot of room to maneuver and Mel wasn’t sure why she didn’t just sing for him in his office. It’s not like she was recording something today. Sighing with confusion, Mel set her guitar case down and snapped it opened, lovingly pulling her guitar from where it rested. Mel loved her guitar. It was the last thing her parents bought her before… No, she didn’t want to think about it today. Today was supposed to be a happy day.