Home > Say You're Mine (The Gallaghers Series)(2)

Say You're Mine (The Gallaghers Series)(2)
Author: Layla Hagen

I glared at the others as I sat down, deciding to take the lead on this. That was the only way I could keep the guys in check.

“Sasha, why don’t you tell us what Isabelle’s job description is? You didn’t have a chance to explain that earlier.”

“Of course. She’s basically going to be advising us how to best give your fans what they want, but on your terms. PR professionals usually come to us with checklists about what you have to do without taking your personalities into account. I want Isabelle to make a psychological profile of each of you in conjunction with how the fans see you, how they relate to each of you. As someone new to GreenFire—”

“Wait a second. She doesn’t even know who we are?” Lars exclaimed.

“Lars!” I said in a warning tone. “Let Sasha explain.”

Isabelle sat up straighter. “The job posting didn’t mention who you are, probably to protect your privacy. I only found out the name of the band when I got the email inviting me here. I’ve heard the name GreenFire before, of course, in passing, but I can’t say I’m familiar with your music. But this is going to allow me to bring in a fresh perspective.” She waved her hand as if she couldn’t care less about our music. I could practically feel the guys’ anger building. All I wanted to do was laugh. I’d never met someone so unimpressed by us. It only made me want to get to know her better. I liked her confidence.

“So what exactly will this entail?” I asked.

“She’ll meet with you individually, and as a group, to find out more about you. What motivates you, what’s important to you—”

“I don’t have time for this.” Thomas stood up.

“Thomas, sit down!” I said through gritted teeth.

He grunted, looking at the others, silently asking them to back him up, but no one did. Reluctantly, he sat back down.

“And why don’t you do that?” I asked Sasha.

“Because I don’t have her expertise, and because I’ve been with you boys for a long time. I have a skewed perception of what the fans want GreenFire to be. Having an outsider’s perspective will not only help us maintain your existing fanbase but appeal to new audiences as well.”

That sort of made sense, especially since we hadn’t been doing anything differently since we entered the music scene, but I still didn’t get why we needed any of this. We could figure this out on our own... I think.

But I wanted to find out where this would lead, exactly. Though I also knew I couldn’t keep the guys’ temper in check for too long. We were musicians; we had people to manage our marketing, fanbase, and all the other stuff we didn’t want to deal with.

I didn’t want Isabelle to get caught in the crossfire, so I turned to them.

“Guys, I’ll stay here with Sasha and Isabelle to discuss the details. If you want to go back to the cottage, you can take the car. Paul can come back for me when we’re done, and Sasha and I can tell you everything later.”

They were out the door in a matter of seconds—no surprise. Sasha left with them, escorting them to the car, leaving me alone with Isabelle.

“I can show you some work I did for other clients,” she said, taking out an iPad from her bag. I leaned in closer, watching the screen. I heard yet another sharp intake of breath. Her fingers were shaking lightly as she tapped a folder titled Portfolio.

So I did affect her. Did it make me a bastard that I felt triumphant? I was used to women wanting me because I was the lead singer of GreenFire. It was one of the reasons why I hadn’t dated seriously in years. Fame and relationships didn’t blend at all. I’d learned that the hard way when the woman I thought was in love with me betrayed me.

But Isabelle was different. She didn’t care about the band. She was responding to me, and that was refreshing and real. It was intoxicating to watch her react to me like this.

“So, the name of the company is, of course, blurred out because I signed NDAs. But as you can see, I made profiles for their shoppers.”

She pointed to a slide with four stock pictures and a series of attributes beneath each one.

“This process is frequently used for market research. I have to say it’s the first time I’ve been asked to make profiles of the employers themselves. It’s a bit different.”

“Isabelle, I have a proposition for you,” I said after a few slides.

She looked up at me. “I’m listening.”

“The whole team is going bowling tonight. Join us.”

“Why?” The way she cocked her head to the side almost undid me.

“Because I’ll have time to talk to the guys. You’ll get a better idea of what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Oh, I already know it’s a lion’s den, and you’re the leader.” She smirked.

I wanted to kiss that feisty mouth. I looked at her lips long enough for her to notice. She parted them, licking the lower one.

“They’re usually friendlier than this,” I assured her, leaning farther away. “Come with us at bowling. I promise it’ll be worth your time.”

She cocked a brow, running her hand through her red hair. I could tell she was weighing the pros and cons. At best, the boys were going to be civil. At worst, they’d be even more obnoxious than they were today. I had to sweeten the offer.

“I’ll make you a deal. Come with us tonight and at least you’ll get to interview me, or whatever it is you need to do.”

She tilted her head, and that red mane cascaded over her right shoulder. It was shiny and silky, and I wanted to know how it would feel wrapped around my fingers.

“That’s a boring deal,” she countered.

I burst out laughing. “Okay, then tell me what works for you.”

“I do want to talk to you, but nothing as elaborate as an interview. Just to get a feeling for everything and see if this job is the right fit for me.”

“The right fit for you? You’re testing us?”

“No, just you for now. The rest didn’t seem to even want to look at me.”

“I like you, Isabelle. No one’s given us as much shit in years as you did in a few minutes.”

She blinked, her teasing smile fading slightly. “I’m not giving you shit. I’m sorry if it came across that way. But I am self-employed and run my own show, so I don’t take on jobs likely to cause me a headache.”

Which was when I realized this was her way of doing things: very direct and honest. She had zero tolerance for bullshit or bad attitudes, and why should she do otherwise? This was a job to her, her livelihood. I was so used to people fawning over us that this felt surreal.

“No one’s going to give you a headache. I’ll take care of that.”

Her eyes widened, and a slight blush crept onto her cheeks. It gave me immense pleasure that I’d managed to rattle her the way she’d done me this whole morning.

“Okay. I’ll join you.” She looked as if she wanted to add something else, but Sasha entered the room.

“Sorry it took me so long,” she exclaimed. She probably took a lot of flak from the guys, but Sasha was tough. I was sure she held her own.

“Good news. I’ve convinced Isabelle here to join us for bowling and drinks,” I said without taking my eyes off Isabelle. She fidgeted in her spot.

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