Flawed Heart: A Brother’s Best Friend Romance (The Bedroom Tour Book 1)
Flawed Heart: Chapter 22

Unknown: Congratulations! I’m proud of you Amelia.

Of course, the text isn’t really from “Unknown.” I know who “unknown” is, but I don’t want to put his name in my phone. He’s the only one who insists on calling me by my full name. How Zander even got my personal number is beyond me. The number on the business site goes to Tabbi in New Zealand, so someone close to me must have given it to him. I don’t like it. My stupid heart hasn’t received the memo, though. The thing has been clenched in my chest since the message first popped up. Then it did somersaults when the bouquet of pink and white magnolias showed up in the hotel lobby for me. Zander tracked me down in New Jersey, and I don’t know how I feel about it.

I left New York on a high. Signing The Kid to my new record label was exciting, both personally and professionally. By the time our plane took off the following afternoon, we were trending on social media in the number one spot. Becks and Spyder were experiencing the same high as I was. We partied our first night in New Jersey, one night before their first show. The cotton mouth and pounding headache I was sporting the next morning didn’t do me any favors when Zander’s flowers arrived. They were beautiful, but the cramping from my stomach was painful. I don’t understand why he keeps trying. I said everything I needed to say.

I’ll chase you this time…

His words still haunt me. I hadn’t even formed a reply after he spoke. I just got in my car and drove until I reached the airport. I ran away, and I’ve been avoiding thinking about it until today. Thankfully, with the Onyx Kiddrick story and the dual contracts, I’d been busy enough to justify not thinking about Zander. His text message today was unexpected, stirring up all my old emotions again.

This time when I catch you, it’s game over. You’re mine.

He wants to chase me. My heart races from the memory and the intense look in his golden stare. I can’t be his. I hate that my heart beats erratically just thinking about it. I shouldn’t want that; yet, there is a small thrill that runs through my veins when I think about it. Zander is so determined to bulldoze his way into my life. He told me what he wants; he apologized, but I can’t let myself believe it. There is too much hurt between us. I don’t know how else to tell him that I don’t see us being anything besides acquaintances now.

The knock on the club’s office door startles me and pulls me out of my mind-spiral I glance at the clock, it’s only one in the afternoon. No one should be here yet. The crews don’t even arrive at the club until four. I snuck in here to get some work done and be alone. Hell, the guys should still be sleeping after the late-night last night.

JT, my lone security detail for the day, pokes his head in. “Ah, Ms. Rosen?”

“Yes?” I stand from the desk, bracing my hands against the smooth surface.

“There is someone to see you, ma’am.” He speaks carefully and glances over his shoulder.

I freeze. There is no way that Zander would actually come here, would he? I never replied to his text, but that doesn’t warrant a trip across the country from him.

Unless he’s chasing you.

“Let them in.” I flick my wrist at JT, my heart hammering in my chest the entire time, while I pray for my legs not to go weak.

The small body that squeezes its way past my security, and through my office door, is not Zander. “I’m sorry to just barge in on you without an appointment, Ms. Rosen, but this might be the only chance I get.” Her head lifts, face still obstructed by the navy blue baseball cap. Her hood on the dark gray sweatshirt falls back, and I see long waves of brown hair highlighted with ashy-blonde streaks. Her body is practically drowning in the too large material of the sweatshirt and her jeans hang off her narrow hips.

“Do I know you?” I ask, my brow cocked slightly, waiting for drama to ensue. A tiny hand lifts the ball cap off her head, and I instantly recognize her. How can I not? Her face has been plastered over every tabloid, music magazine and a variety of commercials for the past three years. Ocean Heart. The Princess of Pop. Her dark brown eyes meet mine, and she knows I recognize her.

“How can I help you, Miss Heart?”

She blows out a shuddering breath, and I notice how pale her face looks. She looks small and vulnerable. Granted, she is taller than me, but not by much. Ocean looks young and a little lost. “I want to join your record label.”

I pause, my hands retreating from the surface of the desk and tucking into the pockets of the jumpsuit I’m wearing. “You’re in a contract with Big Notes Enterprise. I can’t steal you and the damages you’d have to pay, would be problematic for your savings and your reputation, if you break with them.”

Her head shakes back and forth. “My contract ends on my birthday, which is next week. At 12:01a.m., I’ll be a free agent and I want to sign with you before my uncle gets the chance to sign behind my back again.”

Well, that is a sure-fire way to get my attention. I tilt my head, studying her, taking in the slight shake of her hands. “Does anyone know you’re here?”

Her cheeks flush, but she answers truthfully, “No, I snuck out of practice. I heard you were here and that Rise Above was playing at the Hibiscus tonight. I took a chance you might be here.”

“Why are you here?” I raise my brow, not fully understanding her story, and, honestly, not sure if I can pay the fine to take her on by going against BNE. They are huge in the industry while I’m barely starting out. Sure, I just signed The Kid, but even that was a miracle.

Ocean’s eyes drop to the floor and a shudder moves through her small frame. With tears in her eyes, she looks so young; yet, she clearly has been forced to grow up fast. “I was fourteen when my uncle first signed me with BNE. My parents died the year before and left me in his care, so he did the only thing he knew to do with me: used me to make money. I know it sounds crazy. Yes, I have money, my own house, cars, a private jet, and I’m famous,” she inhales again, her top lip caught between her teeth, while tears continue to roll down her cheeks, “but I’m also extremely lonely. I’m invisible. I’ve been singing about love and relationships since I was fourteen, and I’ve never been in a relationship. I get dressed up in pink dresses, things that sparkle, and get made-up like a doll, but I hate the color pink. No offense.” She points to my hair, and I shrug.

“None taken.”

“I don’t get to make my own decisions. I hardly get the chance to rest or take a break, and when I do, my uncle uses it to his advantage to exploit me, so I have to get back to work. I do everything I can, stay as busy as I can, so I don’t have to be around him. No one at BNE listens to me or shares my vision for my music or my brand. It’s the Princess of Pop or nothing. I turn eighteen in one week. I will have a two-hour window to sign a new contract, without my uncle or BNE being made aware, or my uncle forging my name and giving my consent again.”

“Why don’t you turn him in?” I question, my protective instincts kicking in.

“I’m underage. No one listens to me. They think I’m whiny and ungrateful. BNE doesn’t want to lose me because I make them huge money.” Her tiny shoulders lift.

“Surely, someone has tried to help you.” I let my voice trail off when she shakes her head.

“I don’t talk about that person. All it took was a little push from my uncle and a better offer and that person was out of my life too.” Ocean’s voice hardens, so I stop pushing.

I’m not an idiot. I know not everyone or everything in the entertainment industry is always on the up and up. You hear rumors and gossip and see money being exchanged for covering things up. That’s why I wanted my own label. I want to run things on my own and know that things are legal and safe for the talent I bring in. It’s what led me to be trending, and apparently, it’s also what caught The Kid’s attention. My eyes skate over her, my brain swirling with ideas and what I could do. Is it legal, though? There is bound to be push back.

“Are you sure you want my record label? I’m hardly as big as BNE. I’m just starting out,” I warn her. Maybe she hasn’t done her homework.

“You signed Onyx Kiddrick. And Rise Above has been gaining attention since you brought them here. They’ve sold-out all their venues. I can do that for you too. I refuse to wear pink dresses, and I want to sing my own lyrics, but I promise, people will come,” she rebuttals, and I take back my thoughts about her not being prepared.

“When is your birthday?” I move around my desk and closer to her.

“A week from today. At 12:01 a.m., I am free from BNE and free to make my own decisions.” She details for me again.

“I need to check with my attorney.” She stiffens. “If BNE tries to slap some fake paperwork to stop this, I need to be prepared ahead of time.” Ocean relaxes again, nodding her head along with what I’m saying.

“Okay, yeah,” her brow furrows, “I’ve never seen a clause about anything, but I respect that you want to check. When will I hear from you?”

“Leave me your private email to send the contract. If everything checks out, Rise Above will play one of your songs this week. If not, then something was wrong, and I’m truly sorry, Ocean. I will try my best, but I can’t make any promises yet.” I give her the honesty she admitted has been lacking from her life.

Ocean exhales and gives me a watery smile. “Thank you for listening to me, Ms. Rosen. I really hope to be part of your team.” I blink, and she’s already slipping out the door, hood pulled back up over her baseball cap again.

My fingers brush against my forehead. My brain is spinning from the conversation with Ocean. Ocean Heart wants to join Rosen Records. Ocean Heart is in trouble, and she came to me. I can’t let her down. I don’t know who to call, though. This is going to take more than some fancy maneuvering. I need help. I need someone with connections in the industry, but not in the industry. I need a lawyer, and this time, my brother isn’t the one who can help me.

Before I can overthink it, I grab my phone, replace the contact, and hit call, silently praying he won’t answer and I can just leave a message.

“Amelia.” His voice curls around my name and goosebumps rise on my skin.

“Zander,” I respond, trying to keep my tone professional.

“What do you need, baby?” he asks without any hints of anger or judgment in his tone.

“How do you know I need something?”

Zander grunts. “You ran again in Magnolia Hills, you’re avoiding my texts, and I know you got the flowers, but that was a few days ago. If you’re voluntarily calling me, you must need something.”

I blow out a breath. “I do need a favor,” I admit, even though it kills me.

“It’s going to cost you.” His words feel more like a dark promise than a warning. My thighs clench and my stomach swoops. I’m desperate, though.

“Okay,” I respond, hating the way my voice shakes slightly. No matter how much time passes he somehow manages to unnerve me. “What do you want?”

I can practically hear the smirk on his face. “I’ll send you the details. Make sure you have tomorrow night free, though.”

“What if I’m needed at the club for the show?”

“They don’t have a show tomorrow. It’s your travel day to Boston,” he fires back. Zander knows my itinerary.

“Stalker.”

“Just invested, baby. I told you, Amelia, I’m chasing you. But this time, you need me, and since you keep avoiding me, I’m going to take advantage of this opportunity. Are you still in?” Zander drops the challenge. As much as my mind is screaming to run, I can’t. My heart won’t let me.

“Okay,” I repeat and hear him laugh lightly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The call drops. How is he going to see me? I’m traveling to Boston with the guys. Everything in my body tightens and feels jittery. I don’t know what I’m doing. This is crazy, right? My phone pings a second later, and I open my messages. An airline ticket waits in my inbox.

Magnolia Hills?