LITMIR.BIZ

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artists here tonight that you should meet,” Roger said.

      He excused himself and left the table. Astrid realized that Henry wasn’t going to ease into his new job but had already hit the ground running. Unlike Daniel, he knew how to delegate. Henry wasn’t all about himself.

      “Why are you watching me like that?” he asked.

      “You aren’t going to follow Roger or send me after him?”

      “Why should I? He knows what’s expected of him and he’s never let me down.”

      She shook her head. “That kind of attitude is different.”

      Henry nodded. “Everything I need to know about life I learned on a rugby pitch.”

      “Truly?”

      “Indeed. The first thing I learned is that if you don’t trust your teammates then you don’t trust yourself. You can’t be everywhere. So you must surround yourself with like-minded people.”

      “So many people in this business are…elbows out. You know, always trying to shove themselves to the front of the line. When I worked for Daniel and Mo Rollins there was always a list of calls to be made just to make sure that people were doing what they were supposed to do.”

      Henry leaned in closer. “Is that one of the reasons why you left?”

      “No. It isn’t,” Astrid said.

      Henry put his arm around her shoulder and drew her back against the banquette. “I can’t be successful until I know every member of my team—their strengths and their weaknesses.”

      “I don’t have any weaknesses from my past that you need to worry about, Henry. I’m telling you everything you need to know about me.”

      Henry stroked one finger down the side of her face and she shivered. She wanted to rebuild her life and she couldn’t do that if she was lusting after him.

      “Let me be the judge of that,” he said.

      It took just those few words to convince her that he wasn’t the easygoing guy he wanted the world to think he was. Henry Devonshire was a man used to getting his way. And right now that meant he was going to try to uncover her secrets.

      Her secrets.

      She had so many. And she knew there was no way in hell that she was going to trust Henry Devonshire with them. Men had let her down. Not her dad. No, her pop was a stand-up sort of guy. But the men—man—she’d met since she’d left home…Daniel Martin had broken her ability to trust. He had shown her that not all men rewarded her trust in them.

      “Not just yet,” she said.

      He nodded and sank back into his own chair. “You don’t trust me.”

      “I don’t know you,” she said. That was one lesson she had learned. Not everyone she met had the same feelings of loyalty toward their friends that she did. And until she really had Henry’s measure as a man, she wasn’t about to trust him.

      When she’d first started her affair with Daniel, she’d known it was risky to be involved with her boss, but the thrill of falling in love with someone as dynamic as Daniel had offset that. More than that, she’d also had her belief that Daniel was falling for her. And that made the risk more manageable—only after she found herself dumped by Daniel and pregnant with his child did she realize that her sense of loyalty was different than his.

      “Point conceded,” Henry said. “What do you think of this deejay?”

      “He’s okay,” she said. “His sound is very funky and modern, but there’s nothing to make him stand out from any of the other clubs.”

      “I agree. He’s just one of the crowd, but he does have a good ear. We’re looking for artists who can stand out in the crowd whether they are loved or hated, as long as they are noticed. I’m going to chat with him and see if he has any tips for me.”

      It was twenty minutes later when they left for a club in Notting Hill. Cherry Jam had a New York City feel to it. She saw two mates from her old clubbing days, and Henry nodded her off as he was dragged into a rugby conversation with Stan Stubbing, a sports reporter for the Guardian.

      Molly and Maggie Jones were sisters who were only eleven months apart. Maggie, the older of the two, was actually Astrid’s age.

      “Astrid! What are you doing here?”

      “Working! I’m here to check out the bands.”

      “I thought you’d stopped working for that record producer,” Molly said.

      Astrid swallowed. She had become used to the questions about her leaving Mo’s organization, but she’d never really figured out a good answer. “I just started a new job with Everest Records.”

      “Which explains why you are here with Henry Devonshire. He is one cute guy.”

      “He’s my boss,” Astrid said.

      “He can still be cute,” Maggie pointed out.

      “True. What are you drinking?” she asked her friends.

      “Pomegranate martini. Want one?”

      “I’d love one,” Astrid said.

      Molly went to the bar to get her one, and she and Maggie looked for a place to sit but the club was packed and the long, low tables were all full.

      She glanced at the VIP area, where Henry had a table with Roger and a woman who looked familiar. He waved her over as soon he glanced up.

      “Go on,” Maggie said.

      “You can come with me. Henry won’t mind.”

      “All right then. Here’s Molly with your drink,” Maggie said.

      Henry was seated at the head of the U-shaped booth and Roger sat on one side. Astrid slid in next to the woman, Molly followed her and Maggie sat next to Roger.

      “Astrid, this is Steph Cordo. Steph, this is my assistant Astrid.”

      Astrid shook the other woman’s hand. She was older than Astrid expected her to be. Most pop singers seemed to be sixteen these days, but Steph was at least twenty-five. Her eyes said she’d experienced a lot of life.

      “Nice to meet you.”

      “You, as well,” Steph said.

      “These are my friends Maggie and Molly Jones,” she said to the table.

      Once everyone was introduced, Roger and Henry went back to discussing the music business and Astrid turned to Steph.

      “Tomorrow we’re going to have a lot for you to do. Did Henry mention that to you?”

      “Yes. He also said you’d be setting up an appearance at the Everest Mega Store.”

      “I will? I mean, of course I will. We can talk about that tomorrow. When is the best time to reach you?”

      “Anytime except the afternoon. That’s when I sleep.”

      Maggie laughed. “I wish I had that schedule.”

      Steph flushed a little. “I’ve always been a night owl, and my mum’s a nurse. She used to work the overnight shift when I was growing up.…I guess I developed the habit early of staying up to talk to her.”

      “My dad worked nights for a while before he bought his own cabs. We used to have breakfast every morning before school,” Astrid said.

      Her dad had been a cab driver while she was growing up. He still owned a cab but had hired another man to drive it when his health had started to fail. Her mum had been a stay-at-home mum while she and Bethann were in primary school, then she’d gone back to teaching.

      “Me, too. My mates were always having dinner with their folks, but for us it was breakfast.”

      “Us,

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