19. Salt
NINETEEN
SALT
The Rosethorn Records offices were in an intimidating high-rise that made my skin crawl. I got home at two a.m. this morning, slept for three hours, then woke up restless and unsure about the decision to even come to this meeting.
The last few nights, I’d either been at a club or on stage. Both on one of the nights, but don’t remember which. I was exhausted. I was trying to chase away the void closing in on me.
The lobby was pristine. Shiny, waxed floors with tall mirrored ceilings that reflected everything and everyone. Sweat clung to me, my heart thumping wildly as I approached the front desk.
I was nervous.
I shouldn’t have been. I didn’t need this to happen. I didn’t need it the way I knew every other songwriter and singer in Nashville needed it. Tara’s plea to put in a good word for her came to mind, and my mouth went dry.
The lady sitting at the desk looked up expectantly.
I cleared my throat. “Hi. I have a meeting with Rosethorn Records? Simon Salt. I was told to get a visitor's badge at the front desk.”
“Give me one second,” she said, clicking her mouse rapidly. “Ten a.m.?”
“Yes.” My fingers drummed against my thigh.
“Can I see your ID?”
“Sure.” I pulled out my wallet and handed it to her, glancing around. Fuck, why was I nervous? Why did I even care?
After everything that happened with Pepper earlier this week, I needed to move on. I needed to go after this opportunity with everything I had, and pretend that the woman I wanted most wouldn’t be my fucking boss if I got it.
If I didn’t take it, Pepper would have no reason to keep resisting the spark between us. But I’d meant what I told her. I loved a good primal chase, but I wasn’t going to hunt her down and force her to be with me like some fucking caveman.
But if, for whatever reason, the meeting went well… If this was something I wanted…
I wouldn’t be able to walk away. I owed myself that much, didn’t I?
Maybe it was some sort of sign that my birthday was next week. It was my least favorite day of the year. Without fail, I always spiraled into a miserable pit of eternal despair that took a couple days to pull myself out of.
So maybe I’d get a deal.
And that would make me feel at least a little human next Sunday.
Or I wouldn’t.
And I’d go piss on my father's grave.
“Sir? Sir…”
I blinked, coming back to the moment. “Sorry. I’m anxious.”
She smiled. “I’m sure you’ll be okay. Here’s your ID and visitor badge. Take the elevator on the right, Rosethorn is on floor fifteen and sixteen. You’ll go to fifteen.”
“Thanks.”
I took the ID and badge and moved out of the way for the person behind me. After I got myself situated, I headed for the elevators.
Everyone around me was dressed like a lawyer. I felt painfully out of place in a denim jacket, black jeans, my boots, and a shirt that usually went over well on stage. Now, I was second guessing all of those choices.
The doors slid open and I stepped in, others filing in. I jabbed fifteen and pressed my back against the wall as more people joined. My heart pounded as I wrestled with my anxiety.
“Good morning, Ms. Jones.”
The energy in the elevator shifted, and so god help me, I knew without evening opening my eyes that she was here.
Can’t fucking escape her.
I opened them, and was proven right. Pepper stepped into the elevator, her gaze moving over me, expression cool and unreadable. This was the Pepper everyone else knew.
“Good morning.” Her voice was so cold. Stiff.
The doors slid shut, caging us together. I stared at the back of her head, watching as she shifted uncomfortably. The elevator lifted within a few seconds, the doors slid open and a few people got off. Then it repeated, until it was just Pepper, me, and a man I didn’t know.
“So you’re just giving me the cold shoulder now?” the stranger muttered.
Pepper’s shoulders stiffened in a way that made every alarm bell in my head go off. She turned, casting him a glare that would shrivel the balls on any other man. “What did you say, Jeff?”
“Cold shoulder?” he quipped. “You know?—”
“Not in front of a potential client.” Her eyes finally danced over to me, but she quickly looked away.
Fuck. I just want you to look at me.
The man, Jeff, looked over at me curiously. He held out his hand. “Oh. I’m Jeff, nice to meet you. Sorry for the awkwardness, used to be married?—”
“ Jeff , I swear to god,” Pepper snarled, spinning around. Her gaze was electric. “Shut the fuck up. Shut up .”
Jeff. Jeff. He was her ex-husband. This was the man that had been married to Pepper for years and never made her orgasm. Who’d shamed her for her desires.
This was the guy that’d made her doubt herself so much?
He was a couple inches shorter than me with sandy brown hair, bright blue eyes, and broad shoulders. Just a regular looking guy. Nothing special. Not worth spending fifteen years with for nothing in return.
Imagining the two of them together sent a slithering, boiling, writhing bolt of jealousy through me that made me nauseous.
“Oh, is this the guy you went to see play last week with Tommy and Dan? I still can’t believe you went out on a Friday night?—”
The doors opened. Pepper was out before Jeff could say anything else, her heels clicking with rage as she left. I watched her go, wishing I could run after her.
We both stepped off the elevator and my hands clasped behind my back before I did something stupid, like punch him.
“Sorry about that,” Jeff chuckled. “What did she say your name was? Salt?”
My jaw ticked. “Yes. Salt. Where do I go to meet Tommy?”
“I’ll show you,” he said lightly, beaming again.
I hated him. God, I really fucking hated him. I swallowed my anger down and followed him through the office space, trying to look around and take it all in.
Ignore the fucker. Ignore him, ignore him, ignore him.
After firing Jack and snapping at Dale, I’d realized that I’d be an asshole to anyone who said anything about Pepper. And knowing that her fucking ex-husband was standing right next to me…
I really wanted to punch him. I wanted to also tell him that I’d fucked Pepper better than he ever could. And that he should quit his job so Pepper no longer had to see him every day.
Jeff pointed at a meeting room. “Go have a seat. Tommy will be in shortly. Normally I’d be joining too, but I have something else to do. Just need to impress Tommy, really.”
Did he do anything here? Because that sounded like bullshit.
“And hey, let’s just keep that little elevator exchange to us, if you don’t mind. Don’t need anyone getting all up in arms over nothing.”
“Over you upsetting her?” I bit out. Fuck. Stop. Stop before you cause a fucking scene.
Jeff sighed. “I shouldn’t say anything to you of course, but well… Pepper has had a hard time since our divorce. So I just try to keep things lively, you know? But she’s refusing to let me invite my wife to an awards show.”
“How long have you been married?” I asked.
“About two years.”
“How long have you been divorced?”
The vein in his forehead ticked and I saw it . I saw his slimy temper, the enraging entitlement on his ugly fucking face. It oozed through the cracks of his professional veneer. “About the same time.”
“I see.” I forced a smile, flexing my hands behind my back. “I’ll go take a seat.”
He didn’t say anything else as I stepped into the meeting room. The walls were painted a deep teal, with framed records hung in rows. I walked slowly around the mahogany table at the center, studying each one.
Rosethorn had a lot of big artists. Many I hadn’t even realized belonged to them.
Pepper had been busy over the last fifteen years.
Am I really going to do this? It was scary. And I’d be giving up some control, which I certainly didn’t like either.
But the stage called to me. I couldn’t resist the beckoning of the music, it was too ingrained into me. Melodies haunted me, lyrics sang in my blood, and ever since I could remember picking up the guitar—I knew my life belonged to music.
I was going to do this. If the offer was good.
There was relief in that. I didn’t like going back and forth when making decisions, so even committing to the possibility made me relax.
My phone buzzed. I pulled it out quickly, half expecting it to be Pepper. It wasn’t her though, it was Beth.
Good luck, darling, we’re rooting for you.
Warmth spread through my chest.
Thank you. I’ll let you know how it goes
A knock at the door had me putting my phone down. I turned and smiled as Tommy filled the doorway, his energy contagious.
“Hey,” he said. “Jeff put you in here?”
“Yeah,” I chuckled. “I don’t think he liked me.”
Tommy snorted and glanced behind him before making a face. “No one likes him, so it doesn’t matter. Let’s go to my office, it has an actual view.”
One more deep breath. “Lead the way.”