40. Pepper
FORTY
PEPPER
The awards show was the exact kind of place that always made me feel less than.
Of course, I didn’t show it. To the entire industry, I was perfect. I was the CEO of Rosethorn, and many of our artists were snatching up awards left and right. I was proud of them and the work we’d done, and excited for what was to come.
The only thorn in my side was Jeff.
I’d managed to avoid him completely until tonight. Throughout the week, his texts had grown more erratic, and I was hoping that by ignoring him, they’d slowly fizzle out.
I checked my phone and smiled at Salt’s message.
Have fun tonight, baby. You deserve everything good in the world.
A deep breath in, another out. I smoothed my hands down the emerald velvet suit he’d helped me pick and turned, studying myself in the bathroom mirror. I needed to get back out there and keep socializing. The table I’d be seated at would be with Jeff and other music industry big names I’d know.
Fingers crossed they were people I liked, so I could keep ignoring Jeff.
“Everything will be fine,” I whispered to myself.
As silly as it may have been, I was already missing Salt. I wished I was at home in his arms, being deliciously tortured instead of being here.
Never in my life had I been so certain of something, aside from when I’d left the cult. There’d been a deep knowing that had driven me to make that decision, and that choice had changed my life for the better.
The knowing I felt with Salt… it was like that.
There was clarity in my heart for the first time in ages. It was crystal clear that we were meant to be together.
Even more, I was in love with him.
With my thoughts unburdened, I rolled my shoulders back and put on my face. The Rosethorn Records CEO face, with the gleaming smile of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted.
A woman who not only knew, but got exactly what she wanted.
I stepped out of the bathroom and proceeded down the hall, headset-wearing people darting by me. The venue was massive, with the awards taking place in a large auditorium that had a floor space for tables. I flashed my badge to one of the men in a tuxedo that guarded the doors, then entered the space.
As always, everything was dripping with money. Beautiful people mingled, their chatter a deafening roar above the hum of music from the most recent Top 40 artists. The stage stretched across the entirety of the back wall, a podium waiting for whomever would be presenting and accepting awards tonight.
Awards like this never went to me, and I was glad for that. I liked being in the background of the industry, and would dread ever having to stand up and make a speech.
“Ms. Jones,” a woman greeted with a smile. It took a minute to remember who she was, but I recognized her as a producer who was quickly becoming one of the best in the industry.
“Ms. Austen,” I said, holding out my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You as well.”
I did that at least another fifty times. Chatting with people who’d probably whisper about me if they knew who I loved.
And I wouldn’t care.
The concerns for my reputation and what the world would think of me paled in comparison to the passion I had for Salt. I felt lighter with each step, making the rounds, until a grating voice interrupted me.
“Well, look who it is. I wasn’t sure you’d actually be here.”
I took a deep breath and turned around, forcing a smile as Jeff approached me. He was wearing an expensive tuxedo, his eyes narrowing on me in annoyance. My spine stiffened, but I reminded myself he didn’t have any control over me.
“You've been avoiding me,” he said under his breath, smiling at a couple of people who passed by us.
“I don't know what you're talking about.” I wasn’t playing games with him. I wasn’t going to give him fuel for the fire either.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he said. “Is it because of your new boyfriend?”
My heart skipped a beat. Luckily, a man I knew well approached us. Richard Jaxon was the CEO of a record label we competed with heavily, but I liked him. We hated each other professionally, but I’d rather talk to him than stand next to Jeff.
“Richard,” I greeted, pitching my voice louder to drown out whatever bullshit Jeff was about to spout.
“Oh, hello Pepper,” he said, leaning in to give a kiss on the cheek.
I gave his arm a squeeze. “You’re looking well.”
“Thanks, it’s directly related to me topping you on the charts last quarter.”
My laugh was undeniably wicked. “Call me at the end of next quarter, darling. I’m sure you’ll be licking your wounds.”
He laughed. “That’s why I like you, Pepper.” His shark eyes glistened with amusement, but then flattened slightly as he saw Jeff. “Jeff,” he greeted less enthusiastically. “How’s it going?”
“Oh, you know,” Jeff quipped. “Just being ignored by my ex-wife.”
Richard’s brows shot up and my nostrils flared. “Heavy emphasis on the ex part,” I said. “Where are you seated, Richard? I haven’t looked at the charts yet.”
“I think I'll actually be at your table,” he said. “Should be us and a couple of music producers.”
“Wonderful,” I said. I looped my arm into his, shooting Jeff a dirty look. “Do you mind walking me to the table?”
“Of course,” he said.
Richard guided me across the room, the two of us making our way through the crowd. Everyone was dressed to the nines—silk and diamonds, velvet and suits—all with price tags that would make even me feel faint.
“Between you and me, I don’t like your label president. Didn't the two of you get a divorce?” Richard asked under his breath.
“Yes, we did,” I said. “Thank god for that.”
An easy laugh left him. “Why have we been enemies for so long, again?”
“Because you’re a bastard,” I said. “But I’d still rather talk to you than Jeff.”
We slowed as we approached the table we were assigned to. He pulled out my chair, and I gave a nod in thanks, taking a seat. There were four other chairs around the table dressed in black and gold linens. I glanced over my shoulder, spotting an open bar in the back corner that I wanted to take advantage of.
Richard sat down to my right. The chair to my left screeched over the floor and my gaze snapped to Jeff as he plopped down.
“Can't keep ignoring me,” he muttered.
“For fuck’s sake,” I sighed.
“I just don't understand why you won't even text me back,” he said. “Actually, I do. I bet it’s because you’re being controlled by someone, huh? He doesn’t want you talking to me.”
“You’re delusional,” I said. “And you’re acting poorly. This is a work event.”
“I mean, we work together, and yet you keep ignoring me. Which is kind of unprofessional. What’s also unprofessional is the fact that you wouldn't let me bring Ally here?—”
“Are you really going to bring that up now?” I asked.
Richard glanced between the two of us, and then cleared his throat. “How about we talk about something else? Do you have any interesting artists coming up or projects down the line I should be worried about?”
“Of course,” I said, offering him a smirk.
“Oh yeah,” Jeff said. “ Pepper has decided to sign on this boy who is covered in tattoos and wears a mask. And?—”
“That is a gross understatement of who he is,” I corrected. “Salt is a singer-songwriter, and I'm sure you will be seeing more of him soon. I don't know how much you are on social media, but he's been doing well. His music is great. It’ll be a good launch, and that’s all I’ll say.”
“Yes, keep your cards to your chest,” Richard chuckled. “Salt, you said? I think I've heard of him. Janet probably sent me some of his videos. I swear my wife is the reason why we end up signing on all the good artists. Handsome fellow, right? Rose tattoos?”
Jeff’s face was beet red.
“Yes,” I said. “What about you? What secrets are you holding on to?”
“We're getting ready to sign on someone who I think will make some waves. She has a large presence, unique sound. Excellent songwriter. We'll see what happens—you know how the business is. Sometimes you can sign on the best and they flop, other times you sign on a nobody, and they skyrocket in the charts.”
“So true,” I said. “Looking forward to hearing her.”
He smiled. “We should get dinner sometime, outside of all of this. Janet would love to meet you at some point.”
“I’d love to meet her,” I said. “Next time you're in Nashville, just let me know.”
“I could join you,” Jeff interjected.
“You’re not invited,” I said pleasantly.
“Bitch,” Jeff muttered under his breath.
I stared at him and wondered how the fuck I’d ever loved him. Thinking back to all those years ago, I realized that I’d been so caught up in believing him when he said I was his world, I never took the time to make sure his actions matched his words.
Now, I knew better.
“I’m going to get a glass of champagne,” I said, flashing Jeff another dirty look.
“Fine,” he muttered.
I got up and crossed the ballroom, weaving between people. I felt eyes on me, but ignored them this time. I slid my hand into the pocket of my pants, and cursed. I must have left my phone at the table.
“Damn it,” I said, glancing back at the table.
I was already at the bar, though. I’d sneak a text to Salt once I got back.
“What can I get you?” the man at the bar asked.
I needed something stronger than champagne at this point. “Moscow mule?”
He nodded. “I got you.”
I smiled and smoothed my hands down my pantsuit. I felt way better in this suit than the dress I’d packed, and I was glad to be wearing it. It made me feel powerful, and that power was keeping me from losing it on my ex-husband.
Just another day of this. Tomorrow there was a breakfast with more industry professionals, I’d relax in the evening, and then fly home on Monday.
We were so close to the finish line. Salt’s lawyers were fast returning everything to him, so we’d officially sign next week.
I couldn’t wait. Kendra and Lee were already coming up with plans for how to move forward with promotion, and Tommy was putting together a selection of producers for Salt to work with in the recording studio.
The bartender came back with my drink quickly.“Thanks,” I said.
“Of course.”
I smiled and lifted my glass, taking a sip. The lights started to dim in the room—my sign to head back to the table. I steeled myself as I approached it again.
“Have you seen my phone?” I asked Jeff as I sat down.
“Yeah.” Jeff pushed it across the table. “Here it is. You left it.”
I frowned as I took it and slid it into my purse. I almost texted Salt, but with Jeff’s hawk eyes on me, I decided to do so later.
Applause filled the room as a performer emerged on stage. I fully ignored Jeff and forced myself to focus.
Just a little longer, and I’d be able to go home to him.