Seduction by Song Read online

  “But I don’t have a swimsuit,” I say when I realize this problem.

  Romeo gestures to one of the chairs nearest the pool, finally releasing his hold on me. A small bag sits on the chair, too opaque to reveal its contents.

  “Do you think I’d forget something so crucial?” he asks with that charming grin back in place. “Changing rooms are to your left.”

  I blink, surprised at how well thought out this whole excursion was. I expected him to haphazardly throw together some plans and expect me to jump into bed with him after seeing him flaunt his fame and fortune around, not to plan things out so thoughtfully. I frown, inwardly, and shake those thoughts out of my head. A bathing suit wasn’t about to change my mind about everything I knew about him.

  When I take the back into the dressing rooms and pull out the swimsuit inside, Romeo lives up to the terrible reputation he had shown me once more. The bikini inside was beautiful and soft to the touch, but barely covered anything. I make a sound of disgust and throw the thing back into its bag, all but ready to march back out there and give him a piece of my mind. If he thought I was going to wear this—.

  I pause, looking down at myself. I did get dressed up and April did suggest giving him something to miss once he failed to win me over. Stripping down to a bikini could only help this cause, and it wasn’t as though I wasn’t secure enough in my own body to wear such a thing.

  Mind made up, I strip out of my dress, folding it carefully to keep it from wrinkling, and step into the bikini, tying the knots carefully behind my neck and at my hip.

  There.

  I look at myself in the mirror for a moment, satisfied. Romeo would get the eyeful he wanted, and then he’d never see it again—that’d show him.

  He’s lounging in one of the chairs by the hot tub when I reemerge from the dressing rooms, clutching my clothes close to myself. I feel my cheeks heat up when I see him rake his eyes down my body without any hint of shame, and his lips curl up again as he holds a hand out to me.

  “Come.”

  I ignore him, bypassing his hand entirely to set my things down on a chair far away enough from water that they wouldn’t get soaked. Then, still ignoring his beckoning gaze, I step into the hot tub and sink in down to my shoulders, making a soft, content sound as the heat surrounds me.

  Romeo joins me a second later, still apparently amused by my adamant refusal of help from him. He sits almost uncomfortably close to me, draping my arm over my shoulders and stroking his fingers up the side of my arm. The lull of the heat of the water keeps me complacent—I would normally struggle free of his grip, I tell myself, but this moment is too nice to ruin.

  I close my eyes for God only knows how long. Do I fall asleep? I don’t think so, but when I open them again, coming to my senses, I realize that Romeo had been humming next to me. The tune is unfamiliar, so I suppose it must be one of his songs. It’s quiet and mellow, soft and sweet, and I truly enjoy it for a moment before carefully pulling away from his one-armed embrace.

  “As nice as the water is, I really would like to go home now.”

  This time, for what feels like the first time this whole night, he doesn’t argue.

  We dry off quickly in our respective dressing rooms and I slip into my dress, keeping the bikini on underneath to get changed quicker. He asks me to give my address to the driver, not wanting to drop me off at the coffee shop and make me walk home alone so late at night. I’m reluctant and hesitate for a long moment, but finally do give my address. If Romeo wanted it so badly, I’m sure he could find out where I lived—it was good to know that he wouldn’t breach my privacy in such a way.

  The limo pulls up in front of my apartment in what feels like no time at all. I must have dozed off in the car, the mix of warm water and wine from earlier that night lulling me into a calm sleep. I shake the drowsiness out of my eyes and step outside as soon as the doors are opened for me. Much to my surprise, Romeo follows me out.

  “I’d invite you up for coffee,” I say, clearing sleep away from my voice to make sure he hears me loud and clear, “but it’s late and I’d just prefer not to.”

  He laughs, the chuckle quiet and intimate in the night. “Oh, you’ll be changing your mind about that soon enough.”

  “Yeah, except for the part where I won’t.” I take a step back towards my building, frowning when he takes a step forward. “You promised you would leave me alone after this night if I never wanted to see you again.”

  “I did say that,” he says, nodding agreeably as he brings a hand up to my chin. Curling his fingers at my chin, lightly, he tilts my head up to him. “Now I want you to say to me, straight to my face, that you never want to see me again.”

  I look up, ready to tell him just that—it would have been so simple. It would have been an end to all this. The words don’t come, though. It isn’t that I was falling for him or some shit like that, but it—it hadn’t been a completely unpleasant night.

  “Look, Romeo—.”

  “Can’t say it, can you?”

  I huff, annoyed, and knock his hand away. “Would you let me speak?”

  He nods after a second, gesturing for me to continue.

  “The movie—that you remembered, from my notes. That was a nice touch,” I begin, speaking my thoughts more honestly than I thought I would—he deserved the truth, I suppose, even if his ego really didn’t need stroking right now. “And you’re a charmer, and you’re attractive, and we have a lot in common by way of our families—but you know all that, and you think that’s enough. You think you can flaunt that around, flaunt your money around, and buy me with fancy meals and hotel spas. Well, you’re wrong. Dead wrong.”

  To my surprise, he doesn’t interrupt. He doesn’t look offended, either, or even surprised—he simply watches me like he’s amused, the same way he’d been watching me all night.

  “Nothing’s changed. You’re still arrogant, too confident for your own good. Some girl’s going to like that one of these days and you’ll make her very happy, but that girl is not me.”

  “Erin,” he says, finally interrupting just like I expected him to. “That wasn’t what I asked Erin. I said, tell me straight to my face that you never want to see me again.”

  I frown. Of course he realized by now that I wouldn’t say anything so harsh—it wouldn’t be entirely terrible making his acquaintance. He wasn’t horrible company, I suppose, but he wasn’t what I wanted in a man. There was no way of saying one of these things without implying that the other was false, though, and he knew that. What a cunning trap.

  Ultimately, I just shrug. “I don’t have to say anything to you. We’re finished.”

  As I turn to enter my apartment, he reaches out and stops me with a hand at my wrist.

  “Think about the music video,” he says. “You do dance divinely, just as I said. I want you, in more ways than one. My priority now is to have you in that video. You have the details—think about it.”

  I allow him to hold onto my hand for a moment longer before pulling it back, gently.

  “Goodbye, Romeo,” I say, firmly.

  As I finally make my way up the steps, I hear him say behind me, “Goodnight, Erin.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  April, naturally, wants me to tell her everything. She was waiting up for me when I got upstairs even though it was well after two in the morning by the time I got home. I laugh her questions off, promising that I’d fill her in the next morning. I was far too tired to even think about my adventures that night, much less tell a story about them. As soon as she lets me go, only after making me really swear that I would spill in the morning, I flop down in bed and curl up for the night after stepping out of my dress.

  Before dozing off, I remember to grab my purse and check my messages. Logan was probably going to want to talk about Dad’s birthday soon, and I bet the other girls would want to know about my secret date as well. (April and I had agreed to tell them about the date, because it was too much to keep a secret—but we didn
’t tell them it was with Romeo. That would’ve been a total train wreck.) As I fumble around for the phone, my fingers brush up against something foreign in my purse.

  I frown, pulling out the rectangular object that was so soft to the touch. When I realize that it’s the box containing the diamond bracelet Romeo had gotten me, I frown and sigh.

  That bastard. Of course he slipped it into my purse when I wasn’t paying attention. Now I would have to see him again to return the damn thing.

  With sleep knocking on the door to my body, I drop the bracelet back into my purse and pull my covers up over my shoulders. Whatever came next, I would deal with it tomorrow.

  What wound up coming next was practically an intervention. When I stumble out of my bedroom the next morning, April is waiting diligently on the couch, probably waiting to keep me to my promise from the night before. What’s more, Maddie and Juliet were right there with her.

  Maddie screeches as soon as she sees me, leaping off of the couch to bound over to me and wrap a hug around my shoulders. I groan at the noise and excitement, which I usually loved about her—just not this early in the morning. Sure, it was nearly noon, but I was just waking up.

  “Erin, how could you,” Maddie says, though there’s no anger in her voice—only the sound of that great, big smile on her face. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us you were going out with Romeo Ortiz!”

  “I didn’t tell!” April says quickly.

  I frown, finally putting the pieces together. Maddie and Juliet must have found out about Romeo, but if April didn’t tell, then how…

  “They got pictures of you going to that hotel with him,” Maddie says excitedly. “I mean, most people probably wouldn’t know it was you—the pictures weren’t very clear—but we knew! We recognized your new dress, and God does it look beautiful on you or what.”

  I blink, shaking my head in confusion. “They got—who do you mean by they?”

  “Paparazzi,” April says, rolling her eyes. “Bastards. They were probably following you around all night.”

  I groan again, finally hugging Maddie back before moving to drop down onto the unoccupied armchair in our living room. “Oh, God. What if Logan sees.”

  “Who cares?” Juliet says, just as bright-eyed and excited as Maddie was. “You had a date with Romeo Ortiz! Tell us everything!”

  I blink, peering out at them through the hand I had slapped over my face in exasperation. “You guys are—mad?”

  “Ugh, no!” Maddie laughs as she sits down again, too. “I can’t believe you thought you had to keep it a secret from us. Now dish! We want to know everything!”

  I pause for a second, smiling hesitantly and launching into an animated—well, as animated as I could manage for so early in the morning—story about last night’s date. I tell them about the theater, about how he found that film I’d been looking for when I couldn’t find it anywhere. I tell them about dinner, recounting every delicious bite of food and sip of wine, and I tell them about the hotel, making it very clear that we absolutely did not get a room there.

  The girls sigh dreamily, telling me I’m the luckiest girl in the world and telling me they wished they were in—but in the friendly type of jealousy, not the claw your eyes out in rage type of jealousy.

  I laugh, finally, and feel the stress of the night before easing out of my body as I enjoy a few jokes about it with the girls. It isn’t until after Maddie and Juliet take off, apparently needing to catch some sale at the mall, that April takes a seat next to me and frowns.

  “Was it really that amazing?”

  Riding on the high of the recent conversation that had been full of giddiness and glee, I almost nod—but I catch myself when I realize that it would be, at least in part, a lie. I sigh and shake my head, slumping again as I suddenly feel myself getting tired once more.

  “It was—I mean, all of that happened, but—it didn’t mean anything, you know? He proved me right about everything, basically. He thinks he can get anything he wants with some money and some charm.”

  April nods grimly and offers to fill up my cup of tea, which I had finished earlier over an impromptu brunch with the girls to wake myself up. “You’re disappointed?”

  “No!” I shake my head, quickly. “No, of course not. I’m not even surprised, really. I mean, duh. Of course he’s that sort of guy.”

  I try to laugh it off, because I’m really not disappointed, but April still looks at me a bit sympathetically before patting me on the back and moving to clear away some plates we used.

  “It’s okay to be disappointed,” she says. “If you are, I mean. It’s natural to hope that a guy could be different for you, y’know?”

  I nod, understanding perfectly—but I’m really not disappointed. That realization surprises me when it strikes. Based on April’s reasoning, which isn’t wrong, I should be disappointed that I wasn’t as special as Romeo claimed, that he didn’t act differently around me. I couldn’t feel a single ounce of disappointment in my body, though.

  Perhaps I knew it wasn’t over, as much as I wanted it to be. Perhaps I knew I would have to see him again, have to give him another chance—and perhaps I knew he would take that chance.

  I sigh, thinking back to the bracelet in my room. He had obviously set that up as the perfect opportunity to force me into giving him another chance, and I couldn’t even bother being too disappointed that I would have to see him again. After all, it couldn’t be so bad. I survived one night with them, didn’t I?

  Despite this, I have no intention of seeing him alone. He had written his cell number down on the business card he gave me with the details of the music video shoot, but meeting him alone would probably give him all the wrong ideas. No, a public meeting would be much better—and at the music video shoot would be perfect. Maybe I would participate. It would be an experience, I was sure, to be involved in such a project.

  And just because Romeo was the way he was, it didn’t mean his crew would be horrible to work with. I might even have fun!

  With my mind made up, I putter around the apartment, helping April clean up, for a while longer before scheduling another appointment with my professor for midweek next week—just before a shooting period for the music video. It would be good to have something to do in case I changed my mind about going after I got on campus, something to cite as a reason for being there other than the music video.

  And it would be good to have something to look forward to.

  I blink as I finish setting up the appointment, that last thought surprising me. Was I really looking forward to this?

  And if I was, was it really all that bad?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, the professor I needed to meet with had to take a sick day when our appointment came up. She hadn’t been able to leave me a message about it, so I was already on campus when I saw the note on her door letting me know we would have to reschedule. I consider taking the bus home, not having intended on visiting the music video shoot for another hour or two, but decide it’s not worth the fare or the trouble. Romeo’s crew was already setting up when I passed their set on my way to the professor’s office, and I was sure I could lend a hand.

  Surprisingly, Romeo is nowhere to be seen when I wander onto the set where some students are mingling with the crew setting up the equipment for the shoot. I help a few roadies move some dry ice machines and chat with a few stagehands, one of whom I actually recognize from that show I went to with the girls, as the set starts to come together.

  “We’re just waiting for light now,” one of the crew says after we’ve gotten most of the equipment into place. “The sun’s a bit bright for the shot we want.”

  “Thanks for showing me the ropes,” I say, smiling. “It’s been really fun getting to see how this stuff works.”

  “Hey, we’re just glad you’re interested!” he says. “It’s great to have some help around here.”

  Still smiling, I gesture to the last set of speakers th
at are still sitting by the stage and ask if I can help them move those into place as well. They nod, although they tell me that I’m more than welcome to just hang out and not help, and gesture for me to pick one of the larger speakers up with help from a stagehand, pointing to the spot next to the stage where it’s supposed to go.

  We’re halfway there, on our way down a few steps, when a bellowing voice screams out, “What in the hell do you think you’re doing!”

  I freeze, instantly, and blink when the stagehand helping me freezes as well.

  “Oh god,” he says quietly under his breath, a look a fear passing his eyes. “That’s our producer. He hates me.”

  I turn my head to look at the man charging towards us. He’s striking in the same way a Hollywood actor might be, wearing a sharp suit and expensive-looking sunglasses just above an angry frown.

  “So what the fuck is this, then?” he says, his voice loud and crisp as he scowls down at us. “You’re letting a civilian move band equipment?”

  The stagehand stammers out a mumbled reply and shoots me an apologetic look as he bows his head to keep from having to look at the producer. “Sorry, I—she just wanted to help.”

  “You think this is some sort of playground, kid?” the producer snaps as he turns to me, glaring at me over the rim of his sunglasses.

  I blink at him a few times before frowning myself. “I wasn’t aware being a Good Samaritan was illegal these days.”

  The producer practically snarls, crossing his arms across his chest. “It is when you look like you’re about to steal our equipment.”

  I gasp, if only because I hadn’t thought someone could be so rude, and startle when the stagehand speaks up again.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” he says. “I’ll take all the responsibility for this.”

  “You’re damn fucking right you will,” the producer says. “What’s your name? You’re fired.”

  I gasp once more, opening my mouth and getting ready to tell him that he can’t do that, even if he is some bigwig producer, because this poor kid didn’t do anything wrong—he’d just wanted to let me help, and only because I asked. I couldn’t just let him get fired for something I did, for no good reason!