Mine

1. Pepper

ONE

PEPPER

The best advice I ever received was to never go into business with someone you loved.

It was damn good advice, but I didn’t take it.

Rosethorn Records was my company. As the founder and CEO, it was my vision that came to life, and my taste in music which led to our rise in success. Over the last fifteen years, I’d become one of the most successful women in the music industry. I was really good at two things—finding unique talent and making a shit ton of money with them.

Rosethorn was mine.

But it was also his , too.

If I could go back in time to my younger, bright-eyed twenty-two-year-old self—I would have told her many things.

Don’t marry Jeff. Don’t let him be your business partner. Don’t make him the president of your company, because then you’ll have to see how fucking happy he is without you ? —

My ex-husband lifted up his two-year-old daughter and perched her on his lap, his eyes full of stars.

Ellen shot me a grim look before shutting the door to the massive meeting room. Glass walls surrounded us, and Nashville stretched out below, the morning sun flooding the windows. The four other members of the board sat around the oval table, steam curling from clutched coffee mugs. Tommy was our vice president and director of artists and repertoire, or A&R as the music industry called it. Kendra, our director of marketing. Lee, our director of promotions. Scott, our director of legal.

All of their eyes were on Jeff and Paisleigh.

She wore baby pink today with an oversized glitter bow, her cheeks rosy, blue eyes piercing and bright and full of so much happiness that it made my chest ache.

What kind of name was Paisleigh? Seriously. I would have never?—

And you never did, because you never had kids with him, and he traded you in for the sexy intern who’s now happily married to him, with a daughter and baby number two on the way.

“Hope you don’t mind, Pepper,” Jeff said as Paisleigh giggled, grabbing hold of one of his pens to scribble all over his meeting notepad. “Ally had a doctor’s appointment and the nanny was sick with the flu.”

All attention shifted to me. It was times like this when I hated that we all were on a first name basis. I hated hearing him say my name. I hated knowing they all pitied me.

Actually, Jeff, I do fucking mind because two years ago you would have fucking lost it if someone else brought their kid to work, but here you are? “No worries. We’ll get started.” Deep breath, deep breath, deep breath. “Rosethorn Records has had a strong start to the year. Our projections are right on track, and even trending slightly above what we predicted. What today’s meeting is about is who we are at our core and what we’re doing to further the company.”

Years of practice at being the boss sank their teeth in, and I relaxed fully. I’d come a long way from the small-town girl who could barely speak above a polite whisper.

“We need something new and fresh. I know we have a roster of artists we’ve been keeping an eye on, but we need someone who will make waves in the industry. We’ve done it twice already, I know we can do it again. What have we got? I know?—”

“I have an idea,” Jeff interrupted.

My temper flared, but I smothered it as best as I could.

“I think we should bring on someone who will appeal to the apps. Like, whatever it’s called. Instagram. Tiktok. That stuff.” Paisleigh leaned forward, attempting to grab his coffee cup. He successfully steered her away from it, making her giggle again.

Kendra’s expression flickered with annoyance. She glanced up at me, clearly biting her tongue.

“Obviously we’re going to bring someone on who appeals from a marketing perspective, Jeff,” I said patiently. Fifteen years of being married to the idiot had given me that skill. “I’m talking about sound. Music. The heart of?—”

Paisleigh knocked over his cup of coffee. Chaos unfolded as Jeff jumped up, rescuing her from getting any spilled on her dress. But it splashed everywhere across the table, across his notes, the papers sprawled at the center. Everyone jumped up to help him.

I stood up, every muscle rigid as I pressed the intercom button. “Ellen, please bring some paper towels, there’s been a coffee spill.”

Deep breath, deep breath, deep breath.

Paisleigh started to cry.

This was how I knew I’d never be a good mother. There was a tug in my chest—but it wasn’t maternal.

Nope . It was annoyance.

This is why he’d left me, right? Because I didn’t want kids. I didn’t want the white-picket-fence life he’d suddenly decided was right for him. It wasn’t like it was too late for me… that’s a lie. I was thirty-seven and unless a hot, intelligent man plopped on my high-rise apartment doorstep, children were out of the picture.

Ellen hurried back into the room quickly with supplies. It took fifteen minutes and a collective effort to get Paisleigh’s tears dried, coffee cleaned up, and everyone resettled.

“Pepper,” Scott said, leaning over. “I have another meeting soon with the lawyers. The Jenna Hart situation…”

Deep breath, deep breath. That was a media nightmare we were trying to smooth over. “Okay. You can go, we’ll send an email recap. I want updates on that situation, Scott. Make sure she’s protected.”

Scott nodded and jumped up, giving everyone a wave. “I will. Sorry, everyone, legal duties and all that jazz.”

He left swiftly and Tommy held up his hand. I raised a brow at him. Aside from Jeff, he’d also helped found our company. We’d been friends since I was nineteen. He knew better than to raise his hand like a preschooler.

“What?” I asked him.

Tommy cleared his throat. “We have a list of artists we’ve been keeping an eye on. There’s one in particular who’s gathering a lot of attention, especially online. He has a great social media presence. People are feral for him.”

Lee snorted. “Is this the one I think it is? Masked guy?”

“Yep, that’s the one.”

“What’s his name?” I asked.

“He goes by Salt. He writes his own songs, plays guitar, and has a damn good voice,” Tommy said.

“We don’t need another singer-songwriter,” I quipped. “We already have some of the best songwriters in the world.”

Kendra shook her head, a smirk spreading across her face as if she knew a secret. “No, he’s not just that. He has an appealing stage presence and a band now, too. The sound is like… hmm.”

“It’s indie rock with R&B, blues, and synthwave undertones. His songs are very intimate ,” Tommy explained, adjusting in his seat.

Lee nodded seriously. “Yeah, my wife sends videos to me all the time. She’s definitely a fan, although I don’t know if it's his music or appearance.”

Kendra laughed. “Well, he’s very attractive.”

“Agreed,” Tommy said with a sly smile. He refocused on me. “His band is playing tomorrow night at a bar downtown if we want to scout them out. You could come with me. I think it would be a good idea.”

“Pepper in a bar on a Friday night?” Jeff made a face. “Unlikely.”

“Jeff,” Lee scolded, giving him a dirty look. “Really?”

“What?” He looked up from Paisleigh, his brows shooting up. “Was that offensive? It’s the truth. You hate going to bars.”

“I don’t hate going to bars. I used to go to all of them,” I argued.

That was how Rosethorn started. Me, Jeff, and Tommy going to bars and finding songwriters and musicians with potential. I’d always had a knack for finding the next big thing, and we’d been lucky. Music was one of the reasons I was still alive, and getting good music into the hands of other people was what led me to imagine a record label like Rosethorn. One that was fair to its artists with a broad reach, too.

“Well that was back when you were a fun person,” Jeff said lightly. The silence in the room thickened and he looked up from his daughter. “I’m joking, I’m joking.”

“Right,” I said, biting the inside of my mouth so hard I tasted blood. The pain soothed me, kept me grounded. “Well, let’s dive into it. I’ll keep this short.”

Our group spent the next forty minutes going over our current artists, what we had coming down the pipeline for the rest of the quarter, and then circled back around to who we were currently scouting.

“I want new material,” I said. “Find me someone . That’s your job and why you still work here, why we still have a record label, and why I pay all of you. Got it?”

Everyone nodded curtly.

Paisleigh was smiling again, apple cheeks rosy. Fuck, I’m gonna lose my mind. Every day, I thought I was going to lose it.

Jeff was happy .

“Great. We’re all wrapped up.”

I stayed seated as everyone but Tommy shuffled out of the room. He waited until Jeff was out of earshot before leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh. “What the fuck was that?”

“Don’t even start with me right now,” I muttered, massaging my temples.

“Why don’t you just fire him?”

I swallowed hard. “It’s complicated?—”

“Just treat it like business, Pepper.”

“You know it’s not just business with him.”

Tommy pressed his lips into a thin line. “I know. We’ve been friends for almost two decades, and I just hate seeing you this way.”

I hated it too. “He’s your friend, too.”

Tommy shook his head. “He’s not the same person he was, Pep.”

My stomach twisted. I sank back in my chair, studying him. “Do you really think that one artist is worth scouting? The one who’s playing tomorrow.”

Tommy always had a good eye for artists. In the early days, we’d been the ones surfing bars, meeting musicians, finding new sounds and new drugs and having fun . Jeff had the cash though, which was how our label eventually came together. Without the seed money, we probably wouldn’t be sitting here. But without our insight, Jeff would just be another trust fund baby searching for a passion project.

He nodded. “He’s young. Hot. Has a grunge look going for him. He wears a mask on stage and it creates a sexy mysterious persona. His songs are very erotic. Dan loves him.”

Tommy was happily married to our friend Dan, a producer who had more than a handful of Grammys under his belt.

I wrinkled my nose, not completely sold. “What happened to good old-fashioned love songs?”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Sex sells, Pepper. Especially songs about kinky, hot sex.”

Oh god. “I don’t care about anything but the music itself. But I guess if you’re saying it’s that good, it has to be decent, right?”

His hand flattened over his heart in feigned offense, but then he grinned. “ Wow. You’re damn cold sometimes. But that’s why you’re the boss, right ?”

I gave him a flat look. “Don’t you know you don’t need to kiss my ass?”

“Well, you do sign my checks,” he teased.

“Oh, fuck off,” I muttered, leaning forward. I planted my forehead against the table and sighed. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I do. You’re coming out with me and Dan tomorrow night,” Tommy insisted. “It’s been too long. We’ll have some drinks and hear some fresh music. It’ll be good for you. Maybe you’ll meet someone.”

“I doubt it,” I muttered, sitting back up.

His smile softened into a boyish grin. Flecks of silver glinted in his sandy brown hair. Had I ever noticed those before?

“You’re getting old,” I noted.

Tommy feigned a gasp. “My god, you are in a bad mood today. Come on, now. You’re not too old to go out.”

“That’s absolutely not true.”

“We’re not even forty yet. We still have at least half our lives left.” He leaned back in his chair and studied me. “It’s been a couple years since the divorce, but it’s like…”

I gave him a sharp look. “I don’t want to talk about it. And it hasn’t been a couple years. It’s been a year and a half.”

“Are you seeing a therapist?” he asked gently. “Have you actually thought about firing him?”

I think about watching him choke on burnt broccoli. “Of course,” I whispered. I felt like I was swallowing glass. “But he’s as much of a part of Rosethorn as I am. I can’t escape him, can I?”

“It’s your company. You’re the CEO for a reason, babe. And I’m not the only one who has these feelings.”

“Everyone thinks of Jeff when they think of Rosethorn, not just me. If he left, it would be a media hellstorm. I don’t want that for the company or our artists.”

“It would blow over,” Tommy said. “You know it would. People would pick it apart for a couple days and then move on to the next best thing.”

“Well, Jeff is good at his job when he’s not being a babysitter. He’s been good at it for years.”

“Pepper—”

“I’ll go out with you and Dan tomorrow,” I interrupted, willing to do anything to move on from the conversation about Jeff. I stood abruptly, needing a break. “I’m going to pop over to the coffee shop around the corner to stretch my legs. I’ll be back after lunch.”

“Okay,” he sighed. “Take care of yourself, darling.”

I gathered my notes, slid my phone into my pocket, and left the meeting room. I darted across the floor to my office, ignoring everyone.

We’d been in this building for five years, and I was thankful I’d had the foresight to give my office walls, instead of all windows. A designer I met at a venue years ago designed every inch perfectly, making it truly feel like a truly luxurious home for music. Bea also had the wisdom to give me an office that veered from the open-concept flow, allowing me privacy. Which meant I could spiral without being watched.

The moment I closed my office door, I bit the inside of my mouth so hard that more blood bloomed, the heavy taste of metal thick on my tongue.

Fuck. What was wrong with me?

I made money. I made filthy, filthy amounts of money. I had everything I could possibly want. I was one of the most successful businesswomen in the music industry. I’d even made Forty Under 40 last year.

Rosethorn Records was an icon. Everyone kissed the floor I walked on. Musicians and artists across the world wanted to be part of our label, but I was picky. I only chose the best of the best, the ones who fit my vision.

Something was missing . It was a nagging feeling that started out as a seed a few years ago but had grown into a vine that was strangling me to death. I couldn’t blame Jeff for divorcing me, because he was right. I wasn’t fun anymore. I didn’t have a life outside of Rosethorn.

Rosethorn was my life.

A soft knock at the door forced me to compose myself. I crossed the room to my desk and threw my notes down. “Come in.”

Ellen poked her head in.

I waved my hand. She was my assistant, but more than that, she was my best friend. The reason I hadn’t murdered Jeff at this point was probably thanks to her keeping me caffeinated and fed.

She shut the door behind her and made a face. “What the hell was that?”

“I’m going to get coffee,” I said lightly. “I need a little air.”

“You need to tell Jeff he can’t come in with his child,” Ellen scolded. “You have to put your foot down. That meeting was a waste of everyone’s time.”

“It wasn’t,” I argued. “They had a lead. We talked through everything we needed to cover.”

“But you caved for him.”

That stung. I shot her a dirty look, but she waved it off before sweeping her midnight-blue curls into a claw clip. She’d put on a new highlighter this morning, and it looked gorgeous against her brown skin.

“Which highlighter is that?” I asked her. “You look beautiful today.”

Ellen returned my dirty look and then shook her head. “I’ll send you the link. And nice try. You’re not redirecting me. You know what I’m saying about Jeff is the truth.”

“It’s… complicated.”

“It’s been two years,” she hissed.

“It hasn’t been,” I snapped. “Why is everyone on my ass about this today?”

Ally got pregnant with Paisleigh while Jeff and I were still together. She was four months along when he finally told me he wanted a divorce.

Of course, I didn’t know that part until after we signed the papers.

Everyone else knew, though. Oh, yes. That part stung the most. Well, maybe not the most , but it hurt. I was smart and insightful—but I didn’t know his intern was pregnant with my husband’s child.

Ellen hadn’t known because I hired her after the divorce. I’d met her in a spin class over a year ago and we hit it off. One bottle of wine, a basket of breadsticks, and life stories exchanged later—we became friends. She was the better version of me. She had her life together, knew exactly what she wanted, and was perfectly content with being ‘thirty-seven with all the money, all the prospects, not a burden to her parents, unfrightened, and friends with her sex toys.’

“Remember, I don’t give two shits about anyone else here but you,” she said. “Except for Tommy and Kendra. And Lee. They’ve all grown on me. Scott is annoying, though.”

“Well that’s because he’s a lawyer,” I snorted. “It’s his job to be annoying.” I slid on my camel Dior coat, tightened the belt around my waist, and pulled my purse from the bottom drawer of my desk. “I’ll be back after lunch. I need to breathe and then get back, send out emails, and?—”

“Rub one out?”

“Oh god,” I laughed. “ Ellen !”

She shrugged. “Don’t be a prude. I’m just saying, it might do you good.”

“Thanks. I’ll keep your advice under consideration.”

She rolled her eyes and reached for the door, opening it for me. “Go get your caffeine fix. I’ll hold down the fort.”

Happy toddler squeals echoed from Jeff’s office on the other side of the floor. I slid on my sunglasses and steeled myself before heading to the elevators. I kept my head high, my shoulders squared, my strides long. It was times like this that having a stone-cold resting bitch face came in handy, because no one dared to bother me.

Rosethorn Records resided on floor fifteen and sixteen of a high-rise at the center of downtown Nashville. My condo was only a few blocks away, which made my life easy. When Jeff and I divorced, he took the house in Green Hills, per my request. It’d made sense then to have him take the house since it was perfect for raising a family and by that point, Ally was already pregnant.

It’d been a quiet divorce. Cold . Easy. Painful . Relieving. Humiliating .

I took the elevator down to the bottom floor, my heels clicking on the smooth marble floors. I sailed out the front doors and onto the sidewalk, autopilot kicking in as I made my way to my coffee shop.

Valentine’s Day was coming up. There was no way to escape it, either. Every storefront along the way bursted with red and pink hearts. I ignored all of them, pretending they didn’t exist, my thoughts spinning like a broken record until I made it to Adagio.

Adagio was better than any lover I could ever have. Consistent, always available, sweet and savory. The moment I stepped through the heavy wooden door, I inhaled the scent of fresh-ground coffee beans. The blend of chatter and indie grunge music instantly eased the pressure at the back of my head. Red brick peeked through the signed band posters on the walls, a sagging leather couch sat in the back corner, and patrons held onto their mugs like they were lifelines. I resonated with that a little too much. In fact, I definitely drank too much caffeine, but it was either mild forms of self-destruction or a full blown breakdown.

So, I opted for coffee.

My therapist was going to have a fucking field day with me next week.

My phone buzzed as I joined the line for the barista. I sighed and pulled it out. Jeff. Why was he calling me? Could I not escape him for five fucking minutes?

More deep breaths. Some days I was tired of breathing. I answered my phone. “Jeff. I just stepped out for coffee.”

“Hey, Pepper. Sorry to interrupt.”

“I’ll be back after lunch,” I said stiffly.

The back of my neck prickled as I heard someone step up behind me. I almost turned back to look, but that would have been rude.

Jeff didn’t skip a beat. “Well, I just wanted to run something by you real quick. The Guild of Music Supervisors Awards are coming up, and I know it was going to just be you and me going, but I was thinking Ally could come. It would be good for her to do something not mommy-related, you know? I think I’ll take Paisleigh to Mimi.”

Mimi, also known as Matilda, the mother-in-law straight from hell. At least I’d escaped that witch since our divorce. She never liked me, and I could now admit I never liked her either.

“Also, you may want to schedule an appointment with your doctor. Maybe get a little forehead touchup? You were definitely scowling a lot in the meeting earlier. Anyways, Ally will?—”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I interrupted.

The looming presence behind me inched closer. This time I glanced back, but only briefly, enough to spot a tattoo on the top of his hand. A flower with an eye at the center. Weird.

I swallowed hard, my ears burning. He wasn’t touching me. He wasn’t more in my space than any other person in this small, packed coffee shop. But I felt him. I felt him under my skin, wrapping around me like a vine, a poison, an infection .

Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump. My heart hammered faster and faster.

Maybe Ellen was right. Maybe I needed a date with my vibrator.

Jeff continued on. “Why not? I mean it’s not like you’d have to sit next to her?—”

For fuck’s sake. I was tired of Jeff never listening. “The awards have assigned seating, Jeff. You know that.”

“We could add her. You know that . They’ll add someone if you ask.”

“I said no.” My voice strained.

“ Hang up. ”

Two words. They were soft, so soft only I could hear him. A whisper, even. The stranger’s voice sent a shiver up my spine. It was deep and delicious, with a graveled edge that made my chest lurch.

But the command in his tone, the unwavering command…

I swallowed hard.

I didn’t like being told what to do.

But…

Jeff never shut up on the line, not even noticing that I wasn’t talking. What was he even saying? He was going on and on about how this would be good for Ally. How going to LA would be a break for her. They needed to go on a date and get away from the pressure of being parents. It was a lot of pressure, a lot of work. I wouldn’t know though, of course. I wasn’t the mother of his child. I was being cold by saying no. Didn’t I have feelings?

“ Hang. Up. ”

I swallowed hard. Did I turn around and see who was talking to me? Did I yell at him for speaking to me that way? I was a CEO. I was the one who always told others what to do. I was always the one in control, always the one to lead.

The woman in front of me finished her coffee order and stepped away.

“Do it.”

Jeff’s grating words were clipped as I hung up on him. I can’t believe I just did that.

“ Good girl. ”

That short-circuited my brain. What the fuck? What was wrong with me? I swallowed hard. I should have turned around to kick him?—

“Order your coffee.”

I was under a trance. I stepped forward, meeting the barista’s expectant gaze. “I’ll have a flat white with an extra shot.”

They nodded, their gaze constantly flicking past me. “Um, name?”

“Pepper.”

The presence behind me only grew more potent. Above the scent of coffee, there was something more masculine, more delicious. Smokey and tempting.

My mouth watered.

I paid quickly and stepped to the side, keeping my gaze forward. I didn’t even want to see the stranger’s face. I didn’t want him to think he’d affected me. My cheeks flamed as I waited patiently, choosing a brick on the wall to examine. The grooves and flecks of orange and brown and?—

The presence was behind me again. Waiting.

“Pepper. Flat white,” the barista called.

I lunged forward and snatched my to-go cup off the counter. I beelined it out of Adagio.

Good girl.

I scoffed as I raised my coffee cup to eye level, seeing my name scrawled in black.

“Bastard,” I whispered, thinking of the stranger.

Who says something like that? What a freak.

My phone buzzed and buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it. I wasn’t going back to work today. Jeff was probably already waiting in my office, and I just…

I just couldn’t do it.

I was going home.

My cheeks burned as I rushed across the street, speed-walking the four blocks to my condo. Cold wind blew through my wool coat as I used my keycard to go through the front doors. The building faced the river, every loft leased by other music industry professionals. For the most part, everyone left each other alone. It was an unspoken rule, and one I was grateful for as I took the elevator to the penthouse.

I finally took a sip of my coffee and closed my eyes, leaning against the wall.

Good girl. Everyone thought I was good.

But I didn’t want to be good anymore.