Trust (London Love #5)

I crossed my arms.

“We’ve had a reshuffle, as you’ve probably noticed, and this new album will be out sooner rather than later. As we discussed last time, we’ve approved four new tracks, as well as those dance remixes, and the lead single will be a surprise drop in two weeks, which will need a snazzy visual.”

He clapped his hands like he was excited. I’m sure his wallet was.

Snazzy visual. They might as well roll out a coffin and plonk Cork in it. Headfirst. He was shivering so much, I reached out and held on to his arm. He was bloody freezing.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

He had nothing to be sorry about. This was all wrong.

“Lauren, are we all set up?” the wank-waffle asked.

“For what?” Lee demanded.

“We’re flying you out to Santorini this evening. The crew’s already there, I believe.” He looked to Lauren, who nodded in confirmation. “Beach, a bunch of models and you guys—the perfect party vibe. It’ll all be shot in one sequence. Wardrobe, hair and make-up will be on the morning flight. Lauren has secured accommodation—”

“No,” I said at the same time as Josh stood up. “What song is this for again?”

Kieran looked a little bewildered but covered himself well. “That jazzy little number…” scrolling on his laptop in front of him. “…‘Trust Me’. That’s the one.” He seemed very pleased with himself.

“Mr Williams.” I stood up too, pushing down on my knuckles so hard I wouldn’t have been surprised to find dents in the tabletop as I pinned my eyes on the guy.

“Gray. It is Gray, isn’t it?” He smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. Slimy bastard.

“No. It’s Mr Smith actually. I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.”

He lost the smile. Then laughed.

I saw red, I admit it, but I wasn’t a complete idiot. Still, Cork put his hand on my arm just in case.

“Mr Williams,” I said, keeping my voice low. I may not have been much of an actor, but I’d had a month’s worth of vocal lessons for that shitshow of a period drama just to master ‘pissed off and will absolutely not marry Lady Catherine, hell, no’.

“Graham Smith,” I said, pointing at myself. My vocal coach would have been proud. “And this is Cameron Cork-Berkeley.” I indicated the others. “Mustafa Imran, Lee Carter-Murphy, Joshua Lukasz and Sebastian Clarke.”

“I am familiar with your names, kids. Now, Lauren has all your passports, and we’re drawing up—”

I held up my hand, made him stop. Stood a little taller. I wasn’t exactly serving a nuanced performance, but I stared him down this absolute dickhead. Kieran whatever.

“‘Trust Me’ is my song. I wrote it. Joshua Lukasz is credited for the music. We have only one file of it, and that file is on my laptop.”

“We have a fully mastered copy.” Kieran Williams looked so smug.

I took a few seconds to breathe, kept my cool. “And who holds the rights to that copy?”

“Don’t be difficult.”

Musa stood up too. “That track belongs to Gray and Josh. And it’s quite interesting that you have a fully mastered copy. I would also like to know who owns the rights to that song.”

“Boys.” Lauren laughed nervously. “Calm down. You know full well that we own the rights to all Blitz music. It’s not really worth getting in a tizz over.”

“No,” I said. “‘Trust Me’ was never a jazzy little number. ‘Trust Me’ is a slow love song. Something very personal. It’s a piece that was never going to become a Blitz song. And it never will.”

“And, Lauren?” Musa said, walking around his chair, pushing it slowly in underneath the table. “Firstly, we’re not children. Everyone in this room is an actual, fully functioning adult. So stop with the pathetic childish nonsense.”

Silence. I liked it. And Musa was on a roll.

“Secondly, Cork… actually, his name is Cam. And Cam right here needs to get back to hospital. Now. How did you ever think this was a good idea? Did you actually visit him in hospital? If not, we’re more than happy to enlighten you…” he smirked “…since Mr Lukasz and I have been visiting him regularly. As for you.” He turned to Kieran Williams, who turned almost as pale as Cork… Cam. “You, sir, are full of shit. We all know how much bloody spyware is installed on those laptops. Gifts, were they? Christmas presents? So generous. And now we know for sure because you’ve just admitted to it. You’ve been stealing material you have no rights to.”