Kellen cleared his throat and stretched back in his seat. “Yep, she’s amazing. She’s got a lot to offer.”
Weiss grinned. “We gonna land her?”
Kellen steepled his fingers and studied his boss. “I’ve got legal working on an agreement in principal. She can have her attorney validate, and we’ll move forward from there.”
“I can already tell you Summit Pointe Records is going to go crazy for her. Frank Simpson—”
“Will be my first go-to with a demo.” Kellen went sardonic. “You holding my hand on this one, Weiss?”
“She’s going to be
mega
. It’s incumbent upon me to keep tabs.”
“I can tell. I’m just wondering why you feel it’s necessary.” Prickles of that protectiveness Chloe mentioned in her e-mail—a protectiveness that bordered on the territorial—went to work against Kellen’s nerves, and mind. “I’m the one you wanted to land this performer—I’m the one you got.”
“And I couldn’t be more pleased. Get it done, and good work!”
Weiss left Kellen’s office, and Kellen stared into the now empty entryway of his suite; his brows pulled together. This whole Chloe thing was ridiculous. What was going on with him right now?
Straightening, he slid back up to his computer and clicked the reply toggle to the e-mail she had sent. He began to type, rapid-fire, knowing just what he wanted to say.
Hey, Chloe –
Thanks for the e-mail and links. My calendar is pretty locked up this week, but next week works. That should give my legal department time to craft an agreement for you to review and execute. I’ll e-mail you the document as soon as it’s prepared.
Would you be available for a meeting next Thursday? I’ve got ten or eleven o’clock available. In the meantime, I already have ideas about where to start submitting your demo—we’ll discuss strategy when we meet.
Take care—and I’m looking forward to working with you.
Kellen leaned back and propped an elbow on the armrest of his chair. He pursed his lips as he reread his response. With professionalism and precision, he had restored the upper hand, taken the lead and dictated the terms of what would happen next—like any good agent. That small measure of control also helped him establish equilibrium. A cooling off period from the thrill of this chase would be good. In the days between now and his meeting with Chloe Havermill, he would be able to distance himself from her impact.
The next thing he did was long overdue, and necessary. He went to his office door and closed it quietly, then returned to his desk. There, he opened the second drawer on his right and pulled out his Bible. He owned several editions, but this was the one his parents had given him when he turned thirteen, and it was precious to him. It stayed with him at work because in his chosen profession, Kellen needed all the fortification God could supply.
Chloe hadn’t done anything inappropriate or out of line. Neither had he. Somehow, though, this vibration of need was stirring him up and unsettling a foundation he trusted implicitly. His body hadn’t betrayed him, but his heart was straying into territory that was absolutely forbidden—and signing Chloe as a client would bring them together on a continual and intense basis.
He turned to the back of the Bible where he searched an index of verses applicable to any given situation in life. Kellen ran a fingertip down the list of topics until he spotted the one he needed most.
Rebuking temptation.
He sank back in his chair and tuned out the rest of the world. Settling in, he lost himself to God’s word and felt his strength of resolve slowly reemerge.
But the interlude lasted just five minutes—he knew the span of time because he clocked it on his watch when his desk phone rang, jarring him away from God’s comfort and peace.
Sighing heavily, Kellen set his Bible aside and stretched forward, lifting the receiver. He shook his head, wondering if he had turned into the victim of some type of mystical conspiracy. “Kellen Rossiter.”
4
The conspiracy theory gained traction in the days that followed because Kellen’s carefully designed plans to establish distance from Chloe utterly backfired.
The agreement was executed and returned by her attorney, so the process of propelling, Chloe’s career dominated a good part of his workload, whether he saw her face-to-face or not. Additionally, the longer he waited to see her again, the itchier he became. Images of her, which came to life in a professional portfolio she had overnighted to his attention, bombarded him constantly. Plus, for purposes of crafting a client discovery document and mapping strategies to establish her presence in the music market, he followed her social networking activities and researched her past extensively. He found her to be warmly engaging, and charming to those with whom she communicated. Authenticity rolled off her in waves.
They conversed every couple days over the phone, or via e-mail. Each instance left him with a disquieting hunger, rooted deep in a foreign and increasingly powerful part of his psyche.
By the time Thursday morning rolled around, he couldn’t wait to see her.
When his assistant, Anna, notified him of Chloe’s arrival, Kellen worked hard to leave those thoughts behind, but something lingered, something he hadn’t yet found a way to deal with.
That something was desire.
“Hi, Chloe.” Kellen stood from his desk and stepped forward when she entered his office; automatically he offered her his hand.
Her footsteps slowed to a stop when she took in the high-end décor of his office and its gorgeous view of Nashville. But then, she moved to accept the welcoming gesture. She pulled her business persona into place with a degree of speed and poise Kellen admired. She looked the part, too, wearing a stylish and flattering silk suit of light blue. She had fashioned her hair into a loosely plated braid that drew Kellen’s focus to her neck, and the pulse beat that danced there.
So,
he thought,
she’s not quite as cool and composed as she looks. That makes two of us.
In fact, just like the moment he had met her at Iridescence, his world turned hazy, and unstable.
When their hands slid together, he received a jolt. Absorbing the chill of her fingertips prompted him to increase the subtle squeeze of his touch and offer her a compassionate look. “Chloe, your hands are like ice.”
She winced, despite the fact that his words were tempered by kindness and understanding. “Sorry. I’m not good at hiding nerves, I guess. I’m a little intimidated.”
She tried to pull away from his grasp, but Kellen gave her hand a gentle shake. “Don’t be.” In emphasis, he kept their connection in place until their eyes met and held.
Before the moment could stir a lasting awareness, Kellen released her hand, and Chloe looked over his shoulder at the cityscape that was framed in by his office windows. She took a step away, gesturing toward the expansive display. “Would you mind if I take a peek? I’m a sucker for a view.”
“Go ahead.”
She crossed behind his desk and he joined her. It was a gorgeous spring day in Nashville. Cobalt skies stretched to the horizon. Sunlight sparkled off the metal and glass of the buildings that framed in downtown. Beyond it all, traffic crawled along the James Robertson Parkway and Jefferson Street Bridge. An old fashioned showboat inched its way along the blue green waters of the Cumberland River.
Kellen studied it all, considering the fact that he was generally so wrapped up by his work he didn’t take much time to savor the spectacular images that lay before him. What good was success, he found himself wondering, if none of its benefits seeped into his heart and fed his soul?
Chloe’s eyes went wide; with a soft exclamation, she pointed toward a spot far below. Her gesture indicated a simple, red brick building with white accents that was an unmistakable piece of country music history. “Look! You can see the Ryman Auditorium from here!”
The expression on her face, its mix of joy and excitement, spoke to Kellen’s recognition of what was lacking in his life and slid against that empty spot he had just discovered.
He laughed, enjoying her verve. “I take it from the reverence in your tone you might like to perform there one day.”
She nudged his shoulder with hers. “Gee. D’ya think?” She shot him a sassy look. “The Opry wouldn’t be bad, either. Think you might be able to swing that one for me, too?”
Her playful barb hit home and drew him in, so he backed off promptly, though a friendly grin stayed in place. “I’ll do my best.” Silence beat by. “So tell me something.” Kellen ignored the view and leaned his back against the window, opting to watch Chloe instead. “What does the ‘V’ in your e-mail stand for?”
“Oh, my goodness. You caught that? And remember it?”
“Soon enough, you’ll be paying me to catch and remember details like that.” Kellen liked the way she maintained a visual hold on him. There were undercurrents of attraction from her, of an interest that dealt not in business terms, but in wants of the heart.
“I can’t wait.”
Deliberately, Kellen didn’t respond to that, but her gaze lingered like a caress.
“It stands for Victoria,” she answered. “My middle name.”
Chloe Victoria Havermill. Everything about the woman struck Kellen like perfectly timed, beautifully blended music. Her shy reply was accompanied by diverted eyes and a tint to her skin that brightened just slightly.
He fought for emotional center as he lifted away from the sill. “I love it. And now, it’s time for me to start earning my keep. Let’s get you started. Have a seat.”
While she complied, Kellen sat down in his chair as well. “I received the signed agreement from your attorney, so I’ve set a few of the wheels in motion.” Chloe sat back, watching. “Like we discussed, we need to start with a demo we can shop to the labels I want to approach.”
Chloe held up her hands. “Wow. Hang on a second. I mean, I’m thrilled by all of this, naturally, but things are moving pretty fast. Is that typical?”
“When the talent is as strong as yours? Yes. Absolutely. Why wait around? You’re ready to hit the charts. You have a gift, Chloe. That gift will take you where you’re supposed to go. Have faith in that.”
“I appreciate your strength of belief. It’s flattering.”
He ignored her subtle bout of hero worship. He needed to stay level—
objective
. “Don’t be flattered. Just keep doing what you do. I know star power when I see it or you wouldn’t be here.” He gestured toward a beverage service tucked against the far wall of his office. “Can I get you some water, or coffee? Maybe some orange juice?”
“Juice would be great.” She paused, looking up at him when he stood. “Thank you.”
Kellen felt the craziest urge to reach out and stroke her cheek. He stepped away before that errant thought could possibly take hold. After crossing the room, he opened a wood paneled mini-fridge and retrieved two single-serve containers.
“So. About the demo. I want to set up some studio time for you next week.” He twisted open the bottle tops, pouring juice into two glass tumblers. “You need to record some songs as soon as possible, because the sooner I can approach Frank Simpson at Summit Pointe Records the better.” Kellen returned to his desk and handed her one of the glasses he carried.
Chloe, he noticed, listened attentively.
“Frank and Summit are at the top of my list because you’re a perfect fit for his label. He’s smart, and he’s a straight shooter. He’s got a fantastic company with a perfect blend of market power and production quality.”
Chloe fingered her glass. Her brows lifted. “I know who Frank Simpson is—by reputation, anyway. It would be an honor to record for him.”
Kellen appreciated her smarts, and savvy. She was no one’s empty starlet. Once again, Chloe demonstrated solid knowledge of the music market, and a determination to succeed. “Yes, it would, but let’s not let him know that until after we clinch the deal.”
Chloe’s mouth came open. She blinked at his tease, and then her laughter bubbled up. “Wow. That’s some really great advice to keep in mind,
coach
.”
Kellen looked into her sparkling eyes as she sipped her beverage and set it aside. The simple act of watching her take a drink worked on his senses. Once again, Kellen pushed the reaction aside, but doing so became increasingly difficult. He straightened and forced himself to focus. “Let me know your schedule for late next week or early next.”
“I’ll do that. What will I be singing?” She leaned forward eagerly.
“I have a producer I work with on demos. I’ll hook the two of you up.”
“Sounds great. Bring it on!”
Her face glowed, and she shook her head, genuinely dazzled, and, yes, he recognized the signs: she was enamored, too. Kellen could only watch, awed in his own way. He fed off her enthusiasm, this time ignoring the danger of falling, just a bit, for someone as winsome and appealing as Chloe Havermill.
5
“I think we’re as ready for tonight’s event as we’ll ever be, folks. Let’s wind it down and plan on reconvening late next week for a debriefing so we can review the final totals from tonight’s charity gala at the clinic.”
Eager to get home and indulge in a long, luxurious bath as well as some serious primp and polish time, Juliet responded to Pastor Gene Thomas’s decree like the twenty or so others who gathered around a conference table at a meeting room of Trinity Christian Church: she smiled his way then assembled her file folders, pen, and notepad into a neat stack to carry out to her car.
Pastor Gene stilled their motions by continuing. “Before we scatter, though, I want to give some recognition to Juliet Rossiter who orchestrated not only tonight’s event, but the development of this entire project.”
Juliet cringed. She tried to push away the round of applause that accompanied Pastor Gene’s kind words, but he wasn’t finished yet. “The Rushton Free Clinic was Juliet’s brainchild, and not only did she pour a substantial amount of funding into the project, but she also backed up monetary assistance with effort—solid sweat and muscle. Juliet, thank you for chairing the Board of Directors. God has worked through you and your team to turn Rushton from a dream into a reality. Furthermore, a dilapidated building in downtown Nashville is now a haven of hope for the underprivileged in need of both medical and emotional assistance.”