CHAPTER 37
TYLER
“Tyler!” Sebastien barked from his office the next afternoon.
“I knew this was coming,” she muttered to Rory. “Stay here, buddy.”
She made her way to the front desk and stopped in front of Lara.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
Lara blinked. “What did I do?”
“If you could ease up on the flirting with Cary, that’d be great.”
Lara’s eyes widened as she covered her mouth. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you two were together. He’s amazing. You’re so lucky. He’s lucky too. I didn’t even know women could manage bands before I worked here. If you ever have any advice—”
“Actually . . .” Tyler’s gaze dropped to Lara’s unbuttoned blouse. “People might take you more seriously if you dressed a little more professionally.”
Lara instantly folded her arms over her chest. “Totally! I’ve never worked in an office before. I just wanted to look nice for the clients.”
“It’s the music industry.” Tyler rolled her eyes. “As long as it’s clean, you’re good.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
Tyler nodded and continued walking toward Sebastien’s office.
She poked her head inside. “I’m here.”
“What the fuck was that about?” Sebastien folded his arms on top of his belly.
She picked at her fingernails. “What?”
“The Warner party. I called you.”
“Oh, that. Sorry. You know the rule at Warner—no phones allowed.”
“You need to check your phone no matter what, Tyler.” He unfolded his arms and adjusted his stupid baseball cap. “Yestown—”
“What about them?” she asked flatly.
“I’ve had some interest.”
“Yeah, people are losing their shit over them.” She glanced at her watch. “Warner’s putting an offer together. I should have it by the end of the week if not sooner.”
“Hold off.” He stroked his beard and crumbs dropped on his desk. “I’m heading to Toronto tomorrow.”
“Why?” she asked, trying to keep a straight face instead of jumping up and down.
“To get competing offers. More pucks on the net.”
She frowned. “They’re my band.”
“Signed to SDM,” he said. “After that stunt you pulled at the awards you need to get them ready for Cary’s tour ASAP.”
“They’re ready. And I didn’t pull any stunts. I had no idea Cary was going to do that.”
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.” He seemed proud of it.
She shrugged one shoulder. “Think whatever you want.”
“Well, thanks to you, the press is having a field day looking for dirt on Cary’s new girlfriend.
I have Cheryl troubleshooting this mess.
And don’t think you’re getting any special treatment around here because of”—he cleared his throat in a smoker’s cough—“your boyfriend.” He emphasized the word boyfriend like it was a joke or something.
Tyler stormed out of Sebastien’s office, marched down the hall, and slammed her door.
Rory jumped up in alarm and bolted under her desk.
“Sorry, buddy,” she said, spotting his tail tucked tight. “I forgot you were here.” She knelt down and held out a treat. “Who wants a cookie?”
He crept out slowly, tail wagging. She handed it over like a peace offering.
Her phone vibrated—Cary was calling on FaceTime.
“Hi!” she said, not expecting his call. She lowered her phone to show Rory the screen.
“Rory!” he said. “Is that a cookie I see?”
“Why are you calling?” she asked.
“Can’t I just call to say I love you?”
She laughed. “Okay, Stevie Wonder.”
“Funny.” He gave her a goofy smile. “I’ve got an idea.”
“Uh-oh,” she teased.
He rolled his eyes. “As you know, I’m singing the anthem at the Jets’ last game.”
“It’s the last game of the regular season. They made the playoffs.”
“Like you haven’t told me a thousand times.” He paused for a second. “What do you think about Nadie singing with me?”
She smiled. “Thanks for asking, but my sister wants her to finish school first.”
“She’ll be done in June,” he said, making a good point. “That’s a few months away.”
“It’s Dylan’s rule, not mine.”
“If you don’t ask, you don’t get.” He shrugged and rubbed his chin. “The worst she can say is no.”
“What about Sebastien?” she asked. “He’s already given me shit about this weekend.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“Okay, I’ll ask.”
After Tyler ended the call she FaceTimed her sister. Dylan was in high spirits since she’d been healthy throughout her first trimester.
“What’s up?” Dylan asked with a needle and thread between her fingers.
“What are you doing?”
“Making overalls, gender-neutral, but I still think it’s a boy. Oh, and by the way, Cary’s speech was sweet. Dad almost cried.”
“Yeah, but I’m in deep shit with Sebastien.”
“Fuck that guy.”
“Yeah, he’s the worst.” She pursed her lips. “Don’t say no until you hear me out.”
Dylan glanced up from her stitch. “This doesn’t sound good.”
“Cary just called. He wants Nadie to sing the anthem at the Jets’ last game.”
“The last game of the regular season,” Dylan corrected her.
“That’s what I meant.” She laughed. “The last game of the regular season.”
“That’s in what—three weeks?”
“I know. I’m coming out there, remember? It’s Marnie and Heather’s baby shower. I told you.”
“Sorry. Pregnancy brain. It’s in my calendar.” Dylan’s eyes narrowed. “Did you already ask Joe about this?”
“No, but I probably should’ve, come to think of it. He’s the easiest-going guy on the planet.”
“Okay, Nadie can do it if she wants.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, she’ll be done school soon. I think she feels a little left out with all the baby stuff. She’s been an only child for seventeen years. I’m sure it’s a shock to the system.”
“You’ll let me manage her, right?”
“I wouldn’t trust her with anyone else. But hey, I don’t want you shopping her to labels until after school’s out.”
“That’s fair. Thank you.”
“No, thank you. And thank Cary for me. He’s a good guy.”
On the day of the hockey game, Tyler caught a late-morning flight and arrived in Winnipeg mid-afternoon, Rory in tow.
She headed straight to the arena to visit her niece during rehearsal.
Nadie had been practicing with Cary over FaceTime for the past three weeks—no surprise there.
Nadie Grant, much like her aunt, was always over-prepared. For everything.
Luckily Sebastien had been in Toronto for most of that time, so Tyler didn’t have to hide them singing behind his back.
Her boss knew the Jets’ owners, and she was certain he’d put the kibosh on their anthem plans.
Plus, he’d been icing her out of Yestown’s label negotiations, and she really felt like sticking it to him.
“Auntie Ty!” Nadie yelled, running toward her in a full sprint.
“Hi, honey.” Tyler hugged her tightly.
“Thank you so much!”
“Don’t thank me, thank Cary. I had nothing to do with it.”
Cary grinned, approaching them. “Did I hear my name?”
“Thank you, Uncle Cary!” Nadie said.
“Are you kidding me?” he said. “You’re doing me a favor.”
Tyler raised an eyebrow at her niece, unsure if her boyfriend was ready for that kind of commitment. “Uncle Cary?”
“Well, you’re my aunt, so Cary’s my uncle, right?” Nadie asked innocently.
“I don’t know about that,” she said. “But come to think of it, you don’t have to call me Auntie Ty anymore. You’re old enough to call me Tyler.”
Nadie’s jaw hung open. “I’ll never stop calling you Auntie Ty, but can I call him Uncle Cary? Please?”
“Absolutely,” he said. “And Rory can call me Dad.”
Aw, sweet.
After dropping Nadie and Rory at her sister’s, Tyler and Cary checked into the Fairmont Hotel to get ready for the game.
They requested the same suite they’d stayed in over Christmas, hoping to recapture a little of that magic.
Hard to believe she’d gone nearly three years without sex—and now she craved it like chocolate.
“I’m hopping in the shower, babe,” Cary told her from the bathroom.
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
Tyler’s phone vibrated—a text message from Kim.
Where are you?
She replied, Fairmont.
Kim responded with a video attached. CK is going viral.
A vise-like grip tightened in Tyler’s chest, her heart thumping so loud it echoed. She sat on the bed, expecting the worst, drawing in a breath and bracing herself before tapping the screen. What if it’s a sex tape with Emma?
She dropped her head in relief and smiled. It was footage from last night’s show. Cary was onstage with Yestown, and it sounded incredible. It also had over a million hits and had only been up for an hour.
The water turned off and Cary poked his head out the door. “What are you watching?” he asked, wrapping a towel around his waist.
“You.” She turned her phone to show him. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know, but it’s my song and I love those guys.”
“So they’re behaving?”
“Are you kidding? They tried to help with the load-in.”
“No!” She walked toward him. “What about IATSE?”
The International Alliance of Theatrical Stage Employees was a labor union for venue technicians. They didn’t allow anyone to lift a finger unless you paid your dues.
She added, “I didn’t think to tell them.”
“I told them,” he said, tousling his wet hair as it dripped onto the floor. “Good thing we kept Kim on. We would’ve needed another TM sooner or later.”
“I’m glad it worked out.”
Before she could say more, he grabbed her by the waist and pressed kisses along her neck.
“Cary!” she squealed, wriggling out of his arms. “I need a shower.”
“I like you dirty,” he said. “The dirtier, the better.”
“You’re sick.”
“You love it.”
You’re right.
Cary dropped his towel, and her breath hitched.
She reached for him but he stopped her, sliding her leggings and panties down in sync.
She gripped the curtain rod for balance, gasping as his fingers plunged inside her, palm facing out.
Standing above him, she watched in anticipation, tightening in her core.
With delicate strokes, he circled her sex, drawing a moan as his fingers slipped out, replaced by the slow, insistent glide of his tongue. She tensed, then unraveled, swelling with pleasure.