Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Beat squared his shoulders and started to cross the apartment toward the guest room. Before he could take a single step, though, a knock sounded on the door.
He raked a hand through his hair. “Of course, you’re early—” He broke off when he opened the door. Because instead of finding Danielle and Joseph, his blackmailer was leaning against the doorjamb. Ice formed an immediate layer on Beat’s skin, his heart slingshotting up into his throat. Apart from shock, he had one thought and one thought only.
Keep him away from Melody.
“What are you doing here?” Beat asked, pushing him out into the hallway and closing the door behind him. “How did you get up here?”
“How else? Candy bars. Thanks to the live stream, the secret is out.”
“We agreed you would never come here.”
The man’s smug smile didn’t slip one iota. “You haven’t been answering your phone,” he drawled. “How else am I supposed to reach you?”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Oh, I’ve heard. Everyone has. Your little project is all anyone can talk about.”
“Did you come here to congratulate me?” Beat asked. “After all, I wouldn’t be doing the show if it wasn’t for you.”
“Bullshit, Beat. I know the amount of cash Ovations rakes in every year in donations. It’s a matter of public record. You didn’t need to participate in some reality show to pay me.”
“I don’t use the foundation money to shut you up. I use my own.” Beat leaned in and got in the drummer’s face. “The Ovations money goes toward scholarships for talented people. Not opportunists disguising themselves as artists.”
That smile turned brittle. “I’d tread carefully if I were you.”
“You’re not me. We’re nothing alike, thank God.”
“Personality-wise? Maybe.” He stroked his chin. “Genetically? That’s another story.”
All at once, Beat felt like he’d been box jumping for an hour straight.
Melody was in the apartment and he wanted this slimeball a million miles away from her. Away from his family. Unfortunately, he wasn’t done with Fletcher Carr yet. He might never be, if he wanted to keep the secret of his paternity right here. Between the two of them. Where it couldn’t hurt anyone or drag his mother’s name through the mud.
“Real heartwarming scene last night, the whole family gathered for your mother’s annual ego trip. Your”—he performed air quotes—“father still has the wool pulled over his eyes when it comes to your mother. If only he knew.”
“Get out,” Beat clipped. “Get out of the building and don’t come here again. Whether I have to secure a loan or we make this gig happen, I’ll have the money by Christmas, as agreed upon. There is no reason for you to keep contacting me.”
“Isn’t there?” The blackmailer stepped into Beat’s space and his skin shrunk in around his bones. “One of these days, you’re going to think about getting brave, maybe letting the truth come out. I think these little visits from me remind you exactly how little you want people to know that I’m your real father. Not the man everyone thinks it is. Not the man who thinks your mother was faithful from the day they met.”
A ring tightened around his jugular. “I said, get out.”
Beat’s blackmailer sauntered backward with a skin-crawling laugh. “Have fun with Trina—that crazy bitch.” He spun toward the staircase and threw open the door. “I’ll be watching with a bowl of popcorn.”
The blanket of silence after the stairwell door snicked shut was deafening. Instinct begged Beat to go back inside the apartment, knock on the guest room door, and tell Melody everything. The relief of having her on his side would be incredible. He could almost feel the burden toppling off his shoulders. But it would land right on top of hers—and he couldn’t do that. Not after he’d already brought Wreck the Halls to her doorstep. Not after last night, when he’d hurt her by backing off at the last second. Melody was a rare, perfect bright spot in his life and if he piled too much of his shit on top of her, he’d dull that luminous glow.
No, he’d keep his mouth shut and handle Fletcher on his own, thank you very much. This was his problem pertaining to his family. She didn’t need this on her plate.
Beat was in the middle of a deep breath when the elevator doors slid open. Danielle and Joseph stepped off midargument. The camera was down by Joseph’s side, Danielle backing off the elevator with hands planted on her hips. And she continued to back up until her back met the wall of the hallway, the cameraman towering over her, looking very much like he was thinking about kissing the producer.
At least, until they simultaneously noticed Beat standing there.
“Beat!” Flustered, Danielle smoothed her hair and sidestepped her way free of the trap Joseph was creating with his body. “Good morning. What are you doing out here?”