Seven Nights of Sin - Lacey Alexander [106]
Three
It was the third time in a week that Jenkins had summoned Brenna to his office—and she knew she was in trouble, just from the sound of his voice over the phone. What had happened now? Had Malcolm complained to him directly? Had he heard the tapes from Blush’s first recording session? It hadn’t gone as well as hoped, because the producer kept asking her for input as he’d done with Damon in the past, and she simply didn’t have enough experience to help.
She pushed through the closed door without fanfare, missing the days when her boss thought she did good work. “What now?” she asked.
Jenkins stood up, steam practically coming out his ears. Oh boy, whatever this was, it was bad. Really bad.
“I just heard what I hope is a nasty rumor.”
God, she hoped it was, too. “What?”
“Word on the street is that Inspiration just signed a hot new kid named Austin Cole. A kid you and Damon scouted in Vegas. And further word on the street is that you sent the kid to him, saying he’d do a better job for him than we could.”
Her options here were simple. Lie. Or tell the truth.
And she’d had enough lying.
“It’s not a rumor. I did it.”
Jenkins slammed a book down on his desk, making papers fly. “What the hell were you thinking?”
She raised her voice, just as angry as he was. “That Damon will do a better job for him than I can! Because I’ve been thrust into a job I’m ill suited for with little to no experience! And that Austin Cole has one of the best sounds I’ve ever heard and, frankly, I thought he deserved better than I can give him. I didn’t want to ruin his career, so I sent him to Damon.”
Jenkins stood before her, red faced, shaking his head. “Damn it, Brenna…”
She hated this. It just kept getting worse and worse. It was supposed to be a dream job, but it sucked. She’d never been more miserable in her work.
Just then, Collette stuck her head through the open doorway. “Um, Brenna, when you get a chance, the copier’s jammed again.”
“Screw the copier,” she snapped, making Collette flinch, then disappear back through the door.
After which she turned back to Jenkins. “And screw you, too. I can’t do this anymore. I’m a smart, likable, professional woman—and I deserve better. I quit.”
RETURN TO SIN
“Had I not sinned, what would there be for you to pardon? My fate has given you the opportunity for mercy.”
—Ovid
One
Oh God, she’d quit! Really quit!
Three days had passed, but each time she thought about it, the news felt brand-new—and just as horrible. She had a little money saved—she could pay the rent this month and next, and her car payment—but she needed another job fast.
Now, she sat in a park not far from the Blue Night offices—Kelly was picking up sandwiches and meeting her there for lunch. While she waited, she cautiously reopened her old book, You Don’t Need a Man to Be Happy.
Because it was high time she convinced herself of that, once and for all. Damon, of course, had put a big dent in that belief, but at the same time, after Damon, she couldn’t imagine finding another man who could really make her happy. He’d taken her places she’d never gone before and would likely never go again without him—and any normal guy just wouldn’t compare.
Scanning the area around the park bench, she found she was alone, so figured it was safe to start her affirmations. “I don’t need a man, I don’t need a man, I don’t need a man.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ, not that again.”
She looked up to find Kelly—today in a striking suit of dark fuchsia that only she could pull off. She handed Brenna a large Styrofoam container, which she presumed held her lunch.
“Well, I’ll tell you what you do need,” Kelly said, taking a seat next to her, her own white container perched in her lap. “You need a vacation.”
Brenna simply sighed. “I just took one. Remember? Sin City? Lots of sex? Broken heart? Ring any bells?”
Kelly shrugged. “That was work. Kind of.”
“Speaking of which, that was also paid for by Blue Night. And girls without jobs have no business taking vacations.”
“Maybe not, but you’re in a funk, and I intend to get you