He grinned, a charming, lopsided grin. “I was thinking we could talk about it in your room.”
“Then I guess I'll find out in December with everyone else.”
He exhaled and gave her one of those heavy-lidded, I'm-losing-my-patience looks. “You'd have broken out a lot faster if you slept around.”
A bitter laugh scraped her throat. “Tell me something I don't know.”
“The categories are Best Voice of the Year and Best Songwriter of the Year.”
A twinkle of excitement sparked deep inside her, but Giselle knew better than to get her hopes up. “Nice.”
He lifted his brows and slid his finger along the strap of her dress, then over her shoulder. “Your name has been bouncing around the membership like a ping-pong ball.”
She continued to smother that spark. Oh, what a Grammy nomination would do for her career. Not to mention a win. “Oh yeah?”
“Mmm-hmm.” His finger traveled down her arm. “And Bose is looking to put money behind someone just like you.”
“I heard Bose was turning away from sponsoring musicians and focusing on sports figures.”
When he reached her hand, he threaded their fingers and met her eyes with a sultry, seductive look that did nothing for her. Absolutely nothing. Her mind only drifted to the devil, and just the thought of his smoldering gaze created pressure between her legs.
“That was based on a butt-load of money given out to newbies who wasted it on partying. We're always looking for hardworking, multifaceted artists who've shown they can handle themselves and their money. Bose is taking fewer gambles and investing in winners like you-artists who invest in their craft, continue to grow, improve, reinvest in themselves. You've got multiple talents, you're a darling in the press, an angel to your fans, and you just keep getting better every year.”
“And this…” He gestured to one of the screens where a clip from the video trial she'd filmed the day before ran along with various other clips from music videos and concerts. “Girl, this puts the icing on the cake. Sexy sells, sweetheart.”
He eased closer, invading her space and pressing his hand to her shoulder, then sliding it to her neck. He was really pushing his limits, and Giselle was going to have to put on the brakes very soon. Something that would inevitably rub him wrong. The man had a huge ego. And she was giving him a lot of leeway because he was also highly influential in the industry.
“And you are extremely sexy,” he murmured.
“Thank you.” She smiled and covered his hand with hers. “Tyrone, you know-”
“Here's that drink,” Brook said, cutting into Giselle's gentle letdown and pulling the plug on the stress that had knotted in the pit of her stomach. Relationships in this industry were so fragile. Maneuvering them often exhausted her. “Your ten minutes are up, Ty. I've got half a dozen other people waiting to talk to her.”
Giselle took the drink from Brook and smiled at Tyrone, pretending not to notice his scowl of irritation. “I'm very interested in talking more about opportunities with Bose. We'd make great business partners.”
Giselle let Brook walk her through the space.
“Oh man,” Giselle said on an exhale. “I owe you big-time for that.”
“He makes my skin crawl.”
“Okay, who's next?”
“No one,” Brook said. “I just couldn't stand the way he kept touching you.” She stopped and faced Giselle, fussing with a curl, then the strap Tyrone had touched as if she was trying to rid her of him. “I just wanted to give you a break. Gloria's tied up with Dennis from American Express. What did Tyrone want?”
Giselle was about to tell her the news about the Grammy's new categories, when a dark-haired woman who'd been seated with the film crew approached.
She held her hand out to Giselle. “Hi, I'm Zahara.” She shook both Giselle's and Brook's hands. “I just wanted to come by and say hello. I've seen you in concert and, wow, I was absolutely blown away.”
The woman was warm and authentic and well-spoken. Giselle immediately connected with her and could easily have seen herself wanting to get to know her under different circumstances. Circumstances that allowed her to have a life.
“Thank you so much. Are you part of the crew?”
“Stunt crew.” She laughed. “Running with all the tough guys.”
“Speaking of tough guys,” Brook said with a sly little grin. “Is the one with the black hair and the killer smile…you know, married or taken or anything?”
Zahara grinned. “He's not. And he's an absolutely fantastic guy. Okay, sort of a big goofball most of the time, but aren't they all?”