CHAPTER 30

 

Chapter 30

“Okay, let’s try just one more time…” Michael said while he gripped the headphones tighter around his ears. He exhaled, steadying himself, but before he could launch into the verse, a low, growl came from somewhere on the other side of the room.

He turned slightly in his chair, just enough to see Alfie, one of the sound engineers, leaning back against the console, shaking his head.

“Mate…” Alfie groaned again, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. “You’ve said that, what, twenty times now?”

“Thirty…” Corrected Jay, the studio manager, who didn’t really have to be there but had agreed to stay and make sure everything ran smoothly while Michael worked. He seemed to be very much regretting it now. “And my stomach is about to eat itself.”

Across the room, Noah, the other sound engineer, rubbed his temples looking like he was just done as well.

“Michael, we need a break.” He said. “For the love of God, can we please just…”

“Five minutes…” Michael interrupted. “I just need to…”

“We all need food.” Alfie cut in. “That’s what we need.” He stretched, the chair squeaking beneath him, then jerked a thumb toward the door. “We’re just gonna hit that sandwich shop across the street. You want anything?”

Michael shook his head. “I’m good.”

“You sure? You haven’t eaten all day.” Jay gave him a dubious look but Michael just waved them off.

“I’ll be fine.”

One by one, they stood, grabbing their jackets, muttering something under their breaths as they made their way out. The door swung shut and just like that they were gone, leaving behind nothing but silence…

Michael let out a slow breath and turned back toward the mic. He waited for a second or two, closed his eyes, exhaled, and then hit the playback button.

The track spun up, filling the room with a skeletal beat, a simple chord progression floating beneath it. Half-baked lyrics. No final melody. Just the bones of something that could be great, if he could just get it right.

Michael adjusted the mic, rolled his shoulders, and took a breath. The words formed in his mind, and he sang…

"She said she loved me blind, but now she sees just fine…"

His voice cracked, pitch wavering. He winced.

Again.

"She said she loved me blind, but now she sees just fine…"

Too flat.

Again.

"She said she loved me blind … Dammit.”

He cut himself off, jaw tightening.

It wasn’t right. None of it was right. The note sat wrong in his throat, like it wasn’t meant to be sung at all. Like he wasn’t meant to sing it. But that wasn’t true. He could hear it in his head, the way it should sound, the way it should feel but every time he tried, something in him wouldn’t let it come out the way it was supposed to.

Michael ran a hand over his face, then through his hair while he glanced at the clock on the wall.

7:47 PM

They had been there all day long and yet, they had not recorded anything worthwhile…

He shook his head while his eyes moved to the paper in front of him, the words staring back at him. They weren’t anything special, hell, they weren’t even finished, but for some reason they hit something deep inside.

She said she loved me blind, but now she sees just fine…

Yes, he had almost heard them coming out from Lisa’s mouth… almost. But in the end, she had spared him from saying them…

His fingers curled into a fist against his knee as his mind drifted, unwillingly, to a moment exactly one month ago…

 

 

He had heard Lisa rumble through the closet, shuffling through hangers, searching for what she had called her hoodie while he lay in bed, propped on one elbow, waiting for her to get back, smiling at the way she muttered to herself when she couldn’t find something.

But his smile froze the second she walked back into the room, her expression dead serious, an all-too-familiar orange bottle clenched in her hand.

Fuck.

How the hell did she even find it there? He hadn’t seen the damn thing in days!

His throat went dry and he swallowed hard, blinking rapidly.

Shit.

He knew all hell was going to break loose in just a second… and it did.

“What the fucking hell, Michael?” Her voice was tight like she was trying to keep her temper in check, but very much failing and Michael sat up fast, clearing his throat.

“Lisa, I can explain.”

“Explain?” She shot back, shaking the bottle at him. “I can’t believe we’re here again! Goddammit!”

“Come on, baby, just listen…”

“For fuck’s sake, Michael!” She interrupted, stepping closer, her jaw clenched. “I really thought you were done with those! I really did.”

His stomach twisted. He knew that look. Knew that tone. Knew exactly where this was headed.

“Have you been taking these?” Lisa demanded, her voice rising and Michael hesitated, just a second, but just long enough for her to see it. Her face fell.

“Goddamn it!!!”

“Lisa, listen… I… I can explain.” He looked down at his hands, shaking his head. “When… when I ended up in the hospital. After that rehearsal, when I passed out, the doctor gave me these… I… shit. Looking back, I really should have figured out he was once again just some Dr. Feelgood they had hired. They wanted me pliant and docile.”

Lisa crossed her arms, expression unimpressed. “That’s not what I asked.”

A long pause.

Then Michael exhaled sharply, looking at his hands.

“I… yes. I took two. The day of the show. I couldn’t…” He broke off, biting the inside of his cheek. “It… it was too much, Lisa. I just needed to get through it.”

He looked up at her again and saw her lips pressing into a thin line, her disappointment hitting him like a gut punch and Michael moved closer, reaching for her, trying to touch her arm, but she jerked away.

“Don’t.”

“Lisa, please.”

“I… I can’t do this.” She shook her head. “Not again.”

“Lise… you gotta trust me.” His voice was now rough, desperate even and he reached out and cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. “I wouldn’t lie. Not to you.”

“You have before.”

“Not anymore.” He said firmly, his eyes fixed on hers. “Those days are over. I’ve got you. I’ve got the kids. I know better than to fuck around with this shit again. The last thing I want is to lose you.”

But Lisa didn’t look convinced at all and Michael let out a sigh before he reached for the bottle, opened it and pressed it back into her hand.

“What can I do, Lise? Here… Count ‘em. Only two are missing. I swear.”

He watched her as Lisa weighed the bottle in her palm, her expression unreadable.

“How do I know this isn’t the third or fourth bottle you’ve gone through?”

He didn’t have an answer for that and so he kissed her instead, gently, almost pleadingly, his lips lingering against hers.

“Look at me. You’ve seen me high before, Lisa…” He whispered against her lips desperately. “You’ve spent every day with me here. You know me. Do I look like that now?”

She studied him for a long moment, her gaze intense as if searching for something in his eyes. Then, after what felt like an eternity, she sighed.

“No.”

“Here, go flush them. I don’t care. I just need you to believe me… That’s all that matters. I swear I’m not hiding anything.”

She bit her lip, then nodded softly, and Michael exhaled in relief, closing his eyes as he pressed his chin gently on the top of her head, holding her tight.

"Do you trust me?" He murmured, his voice tight and unsure. "Are we okay?"

Lisa sighed, her breath warm against his bare chest as she nodded again, though the movement was half-assed, and Michael could feel it.

"I can’t go through this again, Michael." She said, her voice cracking a little. "If there’s more you’re not telling me, I can’t handle it. I can’t keep doing this."

Michael pulled back slightly, his hands cupping her cheeks, eyes locked on hers.

"I swear to you, there’s nothing else. I promise. I’m clean. I’m not hiding anything from you and I’m not going back, ever… I swear." He kissed the top of her head gently, feeling her relax against him, and for a brief moment, the tension between them lifted. A sense of relief washed over him but then his eyes moved to the alarm clock on the nightstand, and he noticed it was almost two in the morning.

With a soft exhale, he pulled back slightly, but kept his hands on her, unwilling to let go just yet.

"You need to get some sleep, baby. Your flight’s in a few hours."

Lisa didn’t argue and didn’t even resist when Michael guided her back on the bed. Her fingers were still curled loosely around the pill bottle and he took it from her gently, setting it down on the nightstand without even looking at it.

They lay back down, and he pulled the blanket over them both, tucking her against his chest before he reached out, flicking off the lamp on the nightstand and casting the room into darkness.

Michael heard Lisa sigh as her body slowly relaxed into his, and he held her, gently rubbing her back with the pads of his fingers, each touch light and deliberate, making sure she felt safe in his arms.

Michael was listening as her breathing slowly evened out, soft and steady, and he wished he could follow her into that peace soon too, but his mind was racing, running in circles, berating him for not tossing the pills the second they were in his hands.

He should have thrown them away, should have destroyed them the moment he got them, but instead, he let them sit there, and now here they were, pulling Lisa and him back into the familiar and dangerous darkness...

He stared at the ceiling, eyes burning, his grip on her tightening just slightly, desperate for something to calm the storm in his head…

The next morning came fast and was quiet. Heavy.

They showered together in silence, Michael tracing slow, gentle patterns across her skin, pressing soft kisses to her shoulders and her collarbone before he reached for her hand, his fingers gently intertwining with hers.

His thumb brushed over Lisa’s knuckles and when he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the side of her neck, his lips lingered longer than he meant, the warmth of her skin against him making everything else feel distant.

He could feel her pulse under his lips, quick and soft and he slowly moved his lips to hers and kissed her, just as gentle, like he was trying to hold on to something fragile.

Then, for the first time, her own hands came up too, resting on his chest, and Lisa leaned her forehead against his collarbone making his throat tighten, while the burn of tears stung behind his eyes. Michael wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, holding her tightly as if he could keep the moment frozen…

“You’re everything to me…” He whispered. “Never doubt that, please.”

Water kept cascading down their bodies, steam curling around them, but the heat couldn’t chase away all the unspoken weight between them and to make matters even worse, the thought of not knowing when they would see each other again made everything feel even more fragile than it had before…

Lisa took a small step back and her hands slid over his chest, fingers brushing first his jaw and then his lips, but there was a sadness in her touch, something that felt almost resigned. When Michael kissed her, she did kiss him back, but it felt different, like she was merely memorizing him and not losing herself in him like she normally did…

He hated it.

She dressed slowly, packed the last of her things, then went to say goodbye to the kids. They had just woken up, rubbing sleep from their eyes, and Lisa crouched down, hugging each of them tight, whispering things Michael couldn’t hear. He stayed by the door, watching, fighting back the tears that burned at the edges of his eyes.

And then it was just the two of them again, sitting in the back of the car as his driver took them to the airport. Neither of them spoke and they just held hands, Michael’s thumb tracing slow circles over her knuckles. But the silence wasn’t angry or cold. It was just... sad.

When they pulled up, he turned to her and Lisa looked at him, and he saw the tears brimming in her eyes. His throat tightened, and he had to blink hard to keep his own at bay.

“Lise, I can’t go inside with you.” He swallowed. “But I need you to know that I love you. So much… More than anything. You’re the one, Lisa. You always have been. Never doubt it or forget it, please. We’ll be together soon, I promise. We’ll figure this out, and we’ll make it work. Just hold on for me, please.”

A tear slipped down her cheek and she pulled her hands away. He watched as she slowly reached for her wrist with trembling fingers, unfastened one of her bracelets, a black leather band with gold and emerald beads, and slipped it carefully onto his wrist.

“For you.” She whispered.

“Baby, what… what are you doing? I know how much you love this one.”

“Then take care of it for me.” She whispered and gave him a soft smile through her tears. “When we’re together again, I’ll take it back.”

“Lisa…”

But she didn’t even let him finish. Before he could say another word, she kissed him, long, deep, and filled with everything she probably wasn’t able to say and when she pulled back, she pressed a soft peck to the tip of his nose, then another to his forehead, lingering for just a second.

And then, just like that, she opened the door and stepped out…

Michael watched as the driver handed Lisa her suitcase and she turned back one more time, giving him one last, small smile, and then she was gone…

 

 

Michael jerked slightly, snapping back into reality as his hand knocked into a stack of papers, sending them scattering to the floor.

He sighed sharply, running a hand down his face. It wouldn’t have taken much for everything to fall apart and the song he was now struggling with could have just as easily been about him. Just another cautionary tale of someone who lost what mattered most…

But in the end, Lisa chose to trust him. Chose not to let go. And he wasn’t going to let her regret it… ever.

He could hardly believe it had been almost a month now since he packed everything up, burned all the bridges, and left Bahrain and everything it represented behind…

A month ago, he had been stuck in a nightmare, in a messed-up contract with shady people pulling strings, and in a life that felt more like a prison than anything else.

But then, thanks to Lisa’s little stunt, he had finally gotten a chance to say he had enough. With the lawyer’s help, Michael challenged the contract, fought tooth and nail to get out, and, somehow, pulled it off.

And John and the other people? Well, they were pissed, to put it mildly...

They immediately started throwing more threats his way, saying he couldn’t walk away without consequences, but he couldn’t care less. He was just done. Done with the lies, done with the manipulation, done with the stress. He was not going to play that game anymore.

He packed up everything, took the kids, and … just left.

No looking back.

Michael had rented a private jet and flew to London, and the second he landed, it was a whole new ballgame.

He hired an entirely new team, from nannies to publicists, managers, even a security detail and in a way it felt like he was setting up for a brand new life.

The team helped him find a new place and get everything sorted, and just like that, the whole Bahrain nightmare was over…

Done.

He had cut all ties, and it felt like a weight had finally lifted off his shoulders…

 

 

The guys came back and Michael watched as they all dropped into chairs around the long wooden table just outside the recording booth, shuffling food and drinks between them, unbothered by all the mess there. Alfie tossed a sandwich onto the table with a casual flick of his wrist, then jerked his chin toward it.

“Yo, Michael. Get over here. Figured you could use one. You already looked half-dead when we left anyway."

Michael hesitated for half a second before pushing off the chair and he walked over, slowly taking the sandwich.

He really should eat something… His stomach had been running on caffeine and nerves for most of the day, and he hadn’t even noticed.

Typical.

"Thanks. Appreciate it." He mumbled and unwrapped his sandwich, and the first bite was better than it had any right to be, warm and satisfying in a way that made Michael realize just how long it had been since he had last eaten.

He had promised Lisa to try and eat more regularly but he was already failing miserably… God, he needed her by his side so bad.

They all ate and laughed, the conversation around the table was easy, flowing in and out of studio talk, jokes, and random bullshit about whatever was happening in the world outside those four walls.

No tension. No pressure.

A strange sensation Michael had no idea he would experience ever again. It felt so good to finally have a team he could trust, people who weren’t just trying to squeeze him dry and toss him aside when they were done with him.

No… This time there seemed to be no hidden agendas, no false smiles… Just real people, who believed in what they were building together.

And that was exactly what Michael needed all along…

Sure, it was still the early days... He had made some big decisions in uprooting everything and coming here, walking away from the people who had held the keys to his career for so long but it had felt right, still did, but actually only time would tell whether it had been the right call or not.

Out of nowhere, Noah’s voice cut through Michael’s thoughts.

"So, how’s the London life treating you, Mike?" He gestured vaguely with his sandwich. "No regrets?"

"No way, not yet anyway. Fresh start, new energy, good people. You guys are amazing and my new team is just… wonderful." Michael smiled and took another small bite. "I think I made the right move."

"You did, you absolutely did, man." Alfie assured him, nodding like it wasn’t even a question. "A change like this… it’s a good thing. You’ll see."

And then, as if reading his thoughts, Jay leaned back in his chair and grinned.

"And so, is this just recording or are we actually talking a tour here, too? Is that why you made the move? I mean, that could be stinking amazing, man!"

"Ah, still very much up in the air.” Michael shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “I’m… you know how it is… I’m asking for a lot, and they’re, well, hesitant."

"Yeah, it’s an investment." Alfie said, wiping his hands on a napkin and giving Michael a knowing look. "Labels don’t throw millions around without a guarantee."

"Oh, I’m aware… and I get it. But if we do this, I want it done right. I’m not gonna half-ass some generic stadium tour where they just throw me onstage without letting me have a say in it at all. I want control. I need it. The setlist, the sound, the visuals… everything. I know what I’m doing."

And he did. He knew exactly what he wanted. The question was, however, whether the people with the money would trust him enough to let him do it his way.

“And look…” Michael added. “This is very likely gonna be my last tour. At least at this scale. I don’t want to just do it, I want it to mean something… To be perfect. If this is the final run, I’m making damn sure it’s worth it.”

 

 

Later, Michael sank into the backseat of his car as his driver pulled out of the studio lot, the city lights flickering past.

London at night was something else than what he had gotten somewhat used to in Bahrain. Now all he saw were wet streets glowing under the orange hue of street lamps, neon signs buzzing against the drizzle-streaked windows and cute black cabs weaving through the traffic.

It was a very pleasant change and the further they drove, the quieter it actually got… The buildings thinned out, replaced by rolling fields and winding roads, the kind that disappeared into the dark, only illuminated by the occasional streetlight or a passing car. It was a bit of a drive back home, but he didn’t mind… It actually gave him time to think.

Michael pulled out his phone and dialed… It barely rang twice before she picked up.

"Hey, beautiful…" Michael greeted, leaning back in his seat with a grin.

"Hey, you." Lisa’s voice was warm but a little tired. "How’s London treating you today?"

"Eh, spent the whole day holed up in the studio. Nothing really came out of it, but at least it kept me busy. Otherwise, I’d go nuts missing you." He shifted in his seat, glancing out the window as the dark landscape blurred past.

"Tell me about it…" She said, her voice low. "I swear, time’s moving in reverse or something... God, it feels like it’s been a year already!! I miss you!"

"Not as much as I miss you, baby." Michael sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, picturing her smiling face in his mind. "How about you? What are you up to today?"

"Ugh, just going through some boring estate stuff here… paperwork and all that jazz." Lisa groaned. "Really not my idea of a fun day, but I gotta get it done."

"Hmmm... Well, if I was there, we’d definitely be doing something more fun…"

"Oh yeah??" She teased, her voice light, and Michael straightened up in his seat, a slight grin spreading across his face.

"Yeah… maybe right there on your desk… I’d make you forget all about that paperwork, baby… Start with a kiss, then I’d pull you closer, feel you against me... And trust me, I’d make sure all those papers flying off the desk were the last thing on your mind…" He whispered low, making sure the driver couldn’t hear him and Lisa sighed dramatically.

"Baby... I can’t start that right now… The kids will be back from school soon and…"

"Okay, okay, fun police..." Michael joked, grinning to himself. "How are they? You got them for the week?"

"Yeah, it’s my week with them…" She said, a soft smile in her voice. "I decided to catch up on some things my mom had sent me before they get back… We’re going shopping later."

"Good, that sounds like fun... Wish we could join you guys…"

"Yeah, me too." Lisa paused. "And how are the kids? Is Blanket feeling better now?"

Blanket had come down with a slight flu over the past couple of days but thankfully, he bounced back quickly and was already feeling much better.

"Yeah, he's all good now, back to normal. Bouncing off the walls again, full of that crazy energy like he's got too much to burn off. But… they all miss you, Lise… Almost as much as I do..."

Lisa sighed.

"I miss them too… God! How do people even do this long-distance thing? It freaking sucks!"

"I don’t know, baby..." Michael said, shaking his head even though he knew she couldn’t see it. He wished he could have her in his arms right now, kiss her, keep her close… "It’s terrible. I can’t wait to see you."

"Me either…"

They talked for a while longer, just bantering back and forth with Michael teasing her and Lisa laughing, the conversation easy, just like it always was until she sighed and excused herself, saying she had to go…

They exchanged a few more sweet words before she hung up with one last “I love you”  and he let the phone rest against his leg, staring out at the passing countryside…

The car hummed down the empty road, passing rows of darkened fields and small, quiet cottages tucked in the distance… The trees on either side were bare, their twisted branches reaching up like fingers in the night, swaying slightly in the cold breeze. At one point, Michael even noticed the faintest dusting of snow beginning to settle on the ground. The flakes were light, almost delicate, like the snow in England never quite knew how to stick around and his eyes slowly drifted up to the full moon hanging high above, the clouds moving lazily across it, covering and uncovering the pale glow as they drifted by.

Finally, the car slowed, pulling up to his house… his new home. Even in the dark, it was breathtaking. He had made the right decision renting this particular place.

It was a large English countryside estate, built of weathered stone, with ivy creeping up the sides and tall bay windows framed in dark wood.

A long gravel driveway led up to the entrance, lined with lantern-style lights and beyond the house, the land stretched into rolling hills, disappearing into the night.

Michael took a deep breath before stepping out, the night air crisp against his skin.

The house was quiet, the kind of silence that felt like it was waiting for something to happen and Michael shut the car door, took a moment to breathe, and then walked up to the front step. He pushed open the heavy oak door, the wood creaking slightly under his touch, and stepped inside…

“Good evening, Mr. Jackson.”

Martha walked out of the dining room and stood in the hallway, hands neatly folded in front of her apron.

She was in her sixties and was sharp as a blade, with silver hair always pinned into a perfect bun… Yes, she was the kind of proper British nanny people wrote books about — stern yet warm, structured yet endlessly loving, and to Michael she was a true godsend who kept everything in order and cared for his kids with a dedication that went beyond duty.

They adored her, too, of course, loving her to the moon and back, and Michael couldn’t have been more grateful for her presence.

“Good evening, Martha.” He smiled at her and took off his jacket, hanging it neatly on the coat hanger by the door.

“They have just fallen asleep.” She said, reading his thoughts before he could even ask. “They wanted to wait up, but I promised them you would tuck them in properly tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” He said, walking closer to her and giving her arm a light squeeze, a silent gesture of appreciation.

“Would you be needing anything else?” Martha asked, tilting her head slightly and Michael shook his head smiling at her.

“No, I’m good. Thank you. I think you should get some rest.”

“Alright, I will. If you need anything, you know where to find me, Mr. Jackson.” She gave him a pointed look, almost motherly. “Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight, Martha.”

He watched as she grabbed a few things from the cabinet in the hallway, then pulled on her coat, fastening the buttons before she wrapped a scarf snugly around her neck.

With a small, knowing nod in his direction, she disappeared through the main door, retreating to the small guest cottage on the property where she stayed and Michael slowly walked into the living room and dropped onto the leather couch with a heavy sigh.

The fireplace crackled softly and he leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling, exhaustion slowly seeping into his bones.

He was happy… A fresh start, a new team, people he could hopefully trust.

Everything was lining up, but the uncertainty still gnawed at him. Would this be different? Would this work? Would they let him do things his way? Or would they soon turn into vampires, too, sucking him dry at the sight of money and fame?

And Lisa…

He let out a loud sigh, just wishing she was there with him… holding his hand and resting her head on his shoulder. He imagined her voice, soft and sure, telling him he was doing the right thing, always there to support him, guiding him through it all with that calm, unshakable confidence.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and Michael opened his eyes, groggy from the momentary lapse in focus.

He pulled it out, glancing at the screen.

A text.

 

Can I drop by for a min? I have the photos from the shoot and need you to okay them. I’m in the neighbourhood. A.

 

Michael exhaled through his nose, biting his lip. It was already past eleven. Couldn’t it wait? He ran a hand through his hair, feeling a bit annoyed but then he sighed, his fingers hovering over the buttons before he typed reluctantly.

 

Yeah, sure.

 

He pushed himself off the couch, stretching before he made his way to the bar in the corner of the room.

Grabbing a bottle of whiskey, he poured himself a shot and picked up the glass, swirling the amber liquid while his reflection stared back at him, warped and fractured in the rippling surface.

Oh, how he wished Lisa was here with him, curled up against him on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder, fingers lazily tracing patterns over his chest. That was all he needed.

He sighed and then, just as he took the first sip, a knock sounded and Michael groaned, setting the glass down and walking over.

He opened the door, and there she was.

Amelia.

His new publicist.

People had recommended her to him for her professionalism, effectiveness, loyalty, and sharp wit, and without the slightest hesitation, he had hired her. It was an easy decision, she had a reputation for getting results, and he needed someone he could trust to handle the noise.

“Good evening, Michael.” She smiled at him and he nodded, smiling back at her.

Amelia was breathtaking, in her late thirties, with striking high cheekbones and piercing green eyes that seemed to see straight through to your soul. Her dark chestnut hair, always perfectly styled, framed her face in soft waves and her presence — graceful and confident — was simply impossible to ignore.

She had that rare kind of captivating beauty, the sort that lingered in your mind long after she had left the room, and she seemed to be fully aware of it.

Tonight, she was dressed in an elegant black pantsuit, her heels clicking with every step as she walked in and she leaned in to kiss Michael on both cheeks, flashing him a smile, the heavy scent of her expensive perfume lingering in the air as she pulled away.

“Thanks for letting me come by…” Amelia said softly, her British accent smooth and almost tantalizing. “I really need to get your opinion on the photos… just want to check it off the list, make sure everything’s sorted before we move forward.”

“Of course.” Michael replied, nodding and she paused, her eyes glinting with that sharp intelligence he had been told to expect.

“I figured you’re not much of a sleeper and assumed I’d catch you while you’re still awake.” She added nonchalantly with a small shrug and he just nodded again before she walked past him into the living room. “Nice place.” She mused, glancing around as she unbuttoned her coat. “Suits you… warm, pleasant… Who’s taking care of you here?”

Michael’s eyes narrowed just a little and he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I manage.”

She turned to him and gave him another warm smile. “Impressive. Meanwhile, my husband struggles to manage putting his socks in the laundry basket. You men are really hit or miss, aren’t you?”

With a soft chuckle and a dismissive wave, she made herself comfortable on the couch, crossing her legs before pulling out the photos from the shoot earlier in the week.

“Alright, let’s get to it.” She said, spreading them out on the coffee table in front of her. “Some of these are great. Some… not so much.”

Michael walked over and sat down in one of the armchairs, listening closely as Amelia pointed out her choices, nodding along but the angle made it hard for him to see, and he found himself leaning in more and more, squinting at the photos.

A few times, he even had to push himself up and take a small step closer just to get a proper look and after a moment, Amelia rolled her eyes and patted the space beside her.

“Oh, for God’s sake, come sit properly. I don’t bite.”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second before he slid onto the couch next to her and they went through the photos, laughing at a few and critiquing others.

Amelia was sharp, opinionated, and direct, but damn, she knew her job.

At one point, she stood, still talking, and made her way to the bar to pour herself a shot of whiskey.

Then she grabbed a few ice cubes from the small bowl on the counter, dropping them into her glass with a soft clink and she took a sip.

Michael watched her, clearing his throat.

“Uh, I’m sorry, I should’ve offered.”

“Oh, you’re fine.” She waved a hand dismissively, taking another sip as she walked back to him. “You know, I do love a man who keeps a well-stocked bar. Glenfiddich 25… Good choice. Excellent taste.”

He smiled but didn’t reply, his gaze lingering on Amelia as she settled back down beside him and for a moment, the space between them seemed to shrink.

Michael suddenly realized just how close she was and maybe it was the late hour or the way her perfume curled around him like silk, but something about the moment felt a bit… off.

He quickly shook the thought away, forcing his attention back to the photos, but the tension somehow lingered while they continued talking, the conversation flowing smoothly, until Amelia picked up one of the photos, holding it closer to her face.

He watched as her lips tugged into a small, knowing smile, and for a split second, it felt like the room had stilled around them.

“What?” Michael asked, eyeing her warily and she tilted the picture toward him.

“I always knew you were easy on the eyes, but this?” She raised an eyebrow, giving him a sly grin. “This is something else entirely. This shot’s got to go front and center. All the women are going to be losing their minds over this one, trust me…” Her gaze flicked from him back to the photo, her lips parting slightly as she licked them and then, her voice dropped an octave lower. “If this photo doesn’t get all the women hot and bothered at night — or in the shower — I swear I’ll eat my hat, Mike.”

Michel swallowed and cleared his throat, forcing a casual smile.

He nodded, mumbling an uncertain thanks but then, as he reached out to point at another one of the photos, Amelia suddenly caught his wrist, her fingers grazing the leather bracelet Lisa had given him before she had left.

Stunned, he turned sharply to look at her and saw her staring at his bracelet, her eyes flickering with curiosity.

“Hmmm… This is… interesting.”

Michael tensed even more, pulling his hand back slowly and tugging his sleeve over it.

“Yeah.” He murmured. “Means… means a lot to me.”

“Cute.” She shrugged, then looked back at the photos, flipping through them casually before she added, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Long distance never works, you know.”

Michael felt his jaw tightening while his heart did something weird in his chest.

What the actual fuck?!

Something about the way she was acting tonight rubbed him the wrong way… Amelia was too casual, too… confident.

It was… weird.

But then again, she was married… and she was a professional. She was clearly into her job, and damn good at it too. Why would someone like her bother with that kind of nonsense with him? It must have all been in his head.

Michael watched her as she casually swirled her whiskey again looking back at the photos now, and she seemed so unfazed, almost as if she had already forgotten her little dig.

“Um, we’re making it work.” He said, and Amelia shrugged again, grabbing two photos from the table. She looked at them closely, comparing them with a focused expression, completely absorbed in the task at hand now.

“Good for you.”

A pause. Then, as if remembering something, she put the photos back on the table and leaned in slightly.

“Hey, speaking of good news… I really shouldn’t be telling you yet, but I think they will approve your financial terms.”

Michael blinked. “What? Are you serious?”

“Mmhmm.” She smirked, looking a bit pleased with herself. “Even better … they want to extend the tour. Two years.”

His mind started reeling and he immediately forgot all the tension between them, focusing solely on what Amelia had just said.

Holy smokes… That was huge!

If he was based in London for the whole run, he would have the time to really build it the way he wanted, rehearse and perfect every detail… He could make it as big as he dreamed, without the stress of rushing through everything and he would finally have enough time to rest between performances and get the right balance.

But then his heart sank… Two years away from Lisa.

They wouldn’t survive that.

Fuck!

Lost in thought, he barely registered the warmth of Amelia’s hand on his arm.

“It’s good news, Michael.” She whispered. “Take the win.”