Grumpalicious by Mia Faye

Chapter 6

CAYDEN

I had to admit, it was hard restraining myself. I played that look of euphoria that crossed Genni’s face over and over in my mind. Especially when sitting through boring meetings or braving the latest Allie escapade. The way her body tightened around my fingers when she came...and that blazed look of total ecstasy on her face, really it was almost impossible to hold myself back, and yet, I did. I had to. She was too smart and too talented to fuck with, literally. She would walk, she was the kind that had the fortitude to do it, I knew that for sure, so I just laid low. If I were going to conquer Genevieve Green I’d have to play it cool, which was proving hard to do as I tossed one off in my private office bathroom.

I could have probably called someone in my little black book to come in and get the job done for me, but I was cutting ties, not tangling them up. By that point, everyone knew all the dirt on me. Allie had dug up every last girlfriend I’d ever fucked over, and she was particularly skilled at finding the ones who absolutely hated me. Bravo for her perseverance. I was now on the front page of every rag magazine in America. I also still had contracted to shoot three more episodes of her reality show and the hiatus was almost over. They’d want their screen time. Already the producer had called a few times as Allie had exposed every single person who wanted me skewered in the media as the headlines that week proved.

“Cash Coltrane promised a career break to Lana Rivers only to leave her stranded on the side of a highway.” That bitch got out of my car after bombing her own audition. I couldn’t get anyone to play her music, especially because her little fentanyl habit was interfering with her work. I found her popping pills on my bathroom floor and was on my way to drop her at rehab when she jumped out of the car, half-naked, in her PJ’s. Those pills were my personal prescription for pain after knee surgery. Allie had to really dig deep to find Lana as she’d been off the grid for about ten years. That night she hitched a ride with a passing car, and I never heard from her again. I did follow up to find out that she checked herself into rehab when she had OD’d at a friend’s house.

“Cash Coltrane accused of having sex with a prostitute while engaged to Whitney Saunders.” Again, Allie was cashing in on my headlines for money. Whitney had proposed to me, and I didn’t say yes, so we weren’t engaged and the woman, who we paid a lot of money, was a part of a legal escort service in Nevada who specialized in three-way sexual experiences; all of which was Whitney’s idea. Granted I did spend more time with the hooker than I did her and so she was pissed and rightly so as I dumped her the following day.

The last headline was the worst. “Cash Coltrane Hides Secret Love child.” As much as I wanted that one to be a lie as well, it was true. Allie must have had to talk to Sarah in person as there is no way she’d go against her Non-Disclosure agreement. The only thing I could think of is Allie found Sarah under the guise of being another jilted lover. She had to have worked a long time to break Sarah down, because of all the women I’d ever dated before, Sarah was the most decent and if I were being honest with myself, probably the only woman I ever really loved. She got pregnant when she was only nineteen. I was twenty-four. We had been dating for a while and we weren’t being careful. I had just gotten out of my relationship with Whitney, the older woman who had rescued me, and I wanted to be wild. I had more money than I knew what to do with, so I played hard.

When Sarah told me she was pregnant I suggested she get an abortion. She refused and so I dumped her. She had my child, and I didn’t acknowledge he was mine. She never contacted me, but a friend of hers did say she was having a hard time as a single mom, trying to raise her son without any help. Her parents had disowned her, and she was living in a dirty motel with drug dealers and prostitutes as she tried to keep her job as a teaching assistant to a professor at the college where she was getting her bachelor's. She paid someone to watch Alex, the baby’s name was Alex and wasn’t eating. Her friend said she looked so skinny she was worried about her health.

I was an asshole, but I wasn’t heartless and so I made Sarah sign a non-disclosure agreement and I paid child support for the boy even though I vowed to never acknowledge him. Over the years she’d been able to get a teaching degree and was an assistant professor at the local community college. She offered for me to stop the payments, but I asked her just to put them in a fund for college for Alex since he was already nine and would need them one day. She offered to send me pictures of the boy and I declined to see him.

I never regretted that decision but there were days when I thought of them. While I wasn’t the kind of man who wanted a life like hers, academic, quiet, mild-mannered, I didn’t hate her. She was the one and only ex who I actually cared about. That was saying something...something awful. Now the poor woman was being dragged in the media...all because Allie was a bitch.

I walked down the hall to the conference room where they’d put Genni, it would be the first time I’d seen or talked to her in the three weeks since I left her after delivering her a mind-blowing orgasm just using my fingers. She was so infuriating, so what if she was a virgin? I wouldn’t have minded popping her cherry, but something in the back of my mind told me if I had done the nasty with her that night, I’d have made a deal with the devil. Taking her virginity would have been a blood oath to the beast because I would have ruined a really nice girl. Genni wasn’t a playgirl. She was top shelf, and her vagina was under lock and key.

I couldn’t even remember how many times I’d masturbated to the image of her eyes rolling back in her head and her lips parting to pant as I fingered her into a sexual frenzy. Fuck, it was fun.

As I neared the all-glass room with a long mahogany table I saw her sitting there wearing a camel-colored business suit with a fun Gucci floral-print shirt. That shirt alone must have cost her entire savings, but it was worth it; she looked edible. Nice styling too, go to a thrift store, grab a retro-looking suit, and throw a designer print shirt underneath, and there you have it...fashion. The moment I saw her something in me seized. She did crazy things to me, just being herself; effortless. I had to keep the upper hand but as a matter of confession, I didn’t want to.

I entered the conference room and she stood up. She was even more gorgeous standing. Before her was a brand new notepad, three pens, and the manila envelope I’d sent her with the itinerary, tickets, and hotel confirmation.

“It’s good to see you again,” I said in a curt manner as I took my place at the head of the table a good distance from her.

“You, too.” She smiled politely. “Thank you for all of this,” she lifted up the manila envelope. “The hotel room is ridiculous, but I love it.” A smile burst across her face.

“Well, I’m glad. You're going to be here for a while, so I wanted you to be comfortable.”

I was slipping, I could feel it. I had to rein those emotions in. For the first few days, I was going to give her nothing but Ice King vibes, so when I did chuck her a morsel she’d open herself up to me and let me take all of her, every single drop.

“Well, thanks. I am,” she chirped.

“I take it you were able to lose the rest of your band?” I stared at her knowing it was a sticking point.

“You haven’t offered me a contract yet,” she countered, colder, less effervescent.

“So, you haven’t spoken to them about it?” I knew I was being a complete dick and it felt great.

“They want the best for me no matter what. I mentioned that you’d heard me sing and you were bringing me out to New York. It’s not like I could hide that I was coming out here for a month. They’re cool guys. They understand. I think they’ll want me to bring them in at some point, but this isn’t that point. I have musical integrity and you may or may not sign me. I don’t know what you’re planning, but you won’t be making me over into something I’m not. I’m not afraid to say no.” She stared me down and I had to admit that took balls or rather a fierce vagina because no one, not one single person, had ever turned me down.

“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” I reeled us back in. “You’re going to meet with Joe Malcavies, he’s my main producer and I want the two of you to put three songs down, two originals and one cover. As soon as we are done here I’ll take you to his office and leave you there. After you and he have had some time to map out your game plan, you’ll meet me back here in the conference room. My assistant will let me know when you arrive.” With that, I stood up, purposefully leaving my intentions vague.

“And what am I going to be doing when I come back here?” Curiosity had gotten the best of her, score one point for me.

“I’ll tell you then.”

She huffed and I gave a satisfied laugh. I liked game playing. It was fun and I had such a worthy opponent. I was truly looking forward to the days ahead.

“Alright.”

She stood up to follow me and I walked her out of the conference room toward Joe’s office.

Joe was an ancient man, who still smoked a pack of cigarettes a day even though there was no place in the building for him to legally smoke them. I think he must have had a little smoking lounge on the roof, but I didn’t care. If he had lived as long as he had smoking as much as he did, chances were that stopping would kill him. He was a cool old dude with a shiny bald head, faded jeans, and a ten-thousand-dollar leather jacket he wore all the time. He was, above all things, a musical genius, but crusty as fuck. Genni was going to hate him. If she could brave ol’ Joe, she’d have the entire music industry swirling on the top of her little finger.

We walked in silence down the hall to Joe’s studio where he had a piano, a cluttered desk, and a microphone stand surrounded by acoustic tiled walls. From the floor-to-ceiling windows in his pre-World War II era office, you could see all of Manhattan. Our building was older than the hills and had those clunky radiators that could really fry the place up on a cold day. My office had been redesigned and modernized, but somehow Joe’s studio never got the memo. I loved the place.

I thought perhaps she’d make some kind of lame small talk as we walked, but she didn’t, she just drank in the atmosphere cool as a cucumber. It made me want to throw her against the wall and fuck her brains out in front of Chloe in the Business Affairs’ office, but of course, I just made the silent walk with her until we hit Joe’s place.

I knocked on the door and he bellowed from inside, “S’open!” His rasping gurgle boomed over the quiet and efficient office space.

I opened the door, and he was sitting at his cluttered desk. Not sure what he was doing as who could work with so much mess, but I was pretty sure the dirty desk was just a ruse to make us think he was busy. He was so fucking talented he didn’t need anything. All his genius was in his head locked away from the rest of the world and it just came out in croaky blasts of brilliance.

“Hey, Joe. This is the girl I was talking about,” I let Genni in.

“Hi,” she said with a powerful air of confidence.

“Damn, she’s a looker!” He rose up from his chair and circled the desk, then planted himself in front of it, leaning on the papers I was sure he’d never need. “All we have to do is autotune this one and she’ll make you a mint,” he said as a matter of fact.

“Yes, but this one actually has a voice.”

“Well, damn!” Joe shook his head.