Behind the Lyrics by Melissa Riddell

Chapter 15

Angela Morales

“Woman, have you checked your messages? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all morning.” Terri sat at the tiny desk in the front office, her fingertips midair above her keyboard. An eyebrow quirked.

“Jesus, give me a break. I just barely walked through the door.” With a flavored water in one hand, I juggled my purse’s strap for a better grip. “What’s up?”

She shook her head and widened her eyes. “You have no clue, do you?”

“You really did win the lottery?” I tried to tamp down rising annoyance. Sometimes, she could be so dramatic.

Without a word, she shifted her laptop so the monitor faced me. Several social media top news stories flashed pics of Viktor Farrow either outside my apartment or audio replays of our interview from yesterday with commentary.

“What the hell?” I dropped my purse and set my drink on her desk, falling into the chair opposite hers with an audible exhalation. “What is all of this?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing, sugar pie. Wanna tell me why that gorgeous hunk of a man”—her long, manicured fingernail pointed to Viktor’s scowling face outside my apartment door, which must’ve been right after I made him leave, and she clucked her tongue—“was doing at your place?”

My gaze slid from hers. “It’s not what it looks like.” I picked at a loose thread on my Pink Floyd T-shirt.

“Mmhmm.” She flipped the computer around and began to read. “Viktor Farrow, the lead singer of Angry Gods, is making a comeback splash. On a spur-of-the-moment decision, he graced Angela Morales of K-ROC with a face-to-face interview, and boy, did it sizzle. Later that night, he was seen leaving her apartment. Sparks flew during the interview, and it sounds like they also ignited later when—”

“Stop.” Fire lit my cheeks, the heat causing my eyes to water. Damn the man.

“That’s just the beginning, girl. Your face is plastered all over these sites.”

I groaned. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“Nope. I’ve had sponsors calling all morning to get their ads on air, and hundreds of messages from fans wanting to know if there’s going to be another interview.” She typed something into her phone then flipped it for me to see. “That’s how much money came in this morning from the new advertisements.”

I leaned closer, sure my eyes were deceiving me. Nope, it was a five-figure amount. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit’s right.” She turned her attention to the window, and I followed her gaze.

The midday sun beamed on the barren landscape, but inside, the air conditioning kept it cool and comfortable—unlike my weird relationship with the Angry God of Rock.

“I’ll admit, when you two first met yesterday, I started looking for realtors who’d be interested in selling the station for me.”

“Hey, it wasn’t that—”

She held up a hand. “But it seems whatever it is you have going on with Mr. Farrow is a godsend.”

“There’s nothing going on.” I leaned into the chair and tucked my hands under my elbows, giving her a glare.

With a sly grin, she rubbed a finger against the top hem of her neon-pink tank top. “You sure about that? Because let me tell you, that man had his eyes all over you yesterday, and from what I’ve heard, whoever Viktor Farrow wants, he gets.”

I shot to my feet, feeling queasy and antsy. Every time she said Viktor’s name, excitement tumbled in my stomach and dread tightened my chest. How can a person cause such a conflict of emotions? “In case you haven’t noticed, Viktor’s an asshole. He practically told me I’m too poor for him after he saw the inside of my apartment.”

“And why was he even at your place?”

“He…he wanted to apologize.” I wrapped my purse strap around my hand and retrieved the water, then hurried to the studio at the back of the tiny building.

“So, you’re telling me he drove all the way across town to knock on your door and apologize for being himself?”

I paused in the hallway. “Well, he didn’t drive. I guess he made his driver do it, or maybe”—I shook my head—“that’s not important. It wasn’t a big deal, and I promise nothing’s going on between us. Marky made sure of that.” Glancing over my shoulder, I couldn’t hide my grin.

She twisted in her chair and confusion flashed across her face. “Marky? Your cat?”

“Yeah. He peed on Viktor’s boot.”

A deep riot of laughter erupted from Terri’s chest, and she placed a hand over her heart, her entire body shaking from amusement. “Good God almighty, that cat’s got more spunk than any person I’ve ever known.” She slapped her yellow skirt and chortled again.

Her jubilation was infectious, and I joined, doubling over and hanging on to the doorknob for support, tears streaming from my eyes.

“Oh, Lord.” She wiped her lashes. “Wish I could’ve seen that.”

“He was less than pleased.” The moment right before, when he’d looped the red silk tie around my neck and drew me to his body, stymied the laughter. I’d been caught up in his intensity and seconds away from doing something stupid. Yet, I couldn’t forget the way his hard, hot muscles felt beneath my palm, or the way his eyes had devoured me.

Thank God for Marky. He probably saved me from one of the biggest mistake of my life.