Yawning I knocked on Paul's office door and walked in. I'd come in early to work on some songs and seen his note.
"Yo. You wanted to see me?"
"Yes. Sit down," Paul waved at one of the club chairs in front of his desk.
"Will this take long?" I asked, standing where I was. "I really gotta get in the studio."
"It's important," Paul nodded.
With a sigh I flopped into a chair and waited for him to continue.
"Late last night two of your new songs were leaked on YouTube."
"What the fuck!" I sat up, fists clenched. "Are you sure? Ones for the new album?"
"I'm sure. YouTube was ordered to remove them, but fan blogs and reaction channels have already picked them up. They're everywhere."
"Fucking hackers!" I swore, jumping up and starting to pace. I'd only had five songs finished for the new album. This put me back down at three. Mentally I was running through other possible songs I could finish up to replace them.
"Marshall, please sit down."
"Nah man, I was already behind schedule!" I said, shaking my head. "I gotta see what I have to replace –"
"Sit!" Paul yelled. "Please."
I looked up and blinked. Paul rarely yelled these days. I walked back over to the chair and sat.
"I know your first thought is the album. But we've got a bigger problem," Paul frowned. "As far as I can tell, the leak came from someone inside Shady records."
I stared at him, as his meaning sunk in. Someone here had leaked my shit. Someone I employed had betrayed me.
"Who?" I asked, rage thundering in my head.
"I don't know yet," Paul said. "Which employees have been working with you on the new material?"
I thought over the last month.
"Besides Royce and Porter, mainly sound engineers Jared Hunter, Tyrese Jones and the new guy Zack Saunders."
Paul wrote down the names. "Anyone else in or around recording rooms?"
I rubbed my beard as I thought. "There were a couple of IT guys in to fix some computer equipment. Can't think of anyone else."
"Okay," Paul nodded. "I'll have them all checked out."
"Then I'll kill the traitorous rat," I said, fists clenched.
"No. No killing. We'll deal with them."
Remaining silent, I struggled to keep my anger under control.
"Marshall please, don't do anything stupid."
I didn't want to have this conversation now. As a distraction, I pointed to a pile of printed photos on his desk.
"What are those? You take up boring photography?"
"Someone emailed me photos from the law convention I went to last week. I printed out a bunch to take home and show my wife."
"You sure know how to thrill a woman," I joked, flipping through the pictures of men and women in suits standing around.
As I stared at the last photo, the air left my lungs. It couldn't be!
"You alright?" Paul asked.
I cleared my throat and shoved the pictures back at Paul.
"Who are you talking to in that top one?" I asked, hoping my voice sounded normal as Paul looked at the picture. "The uh, guy looks familiar."
"Rowan Steele, partner from Steele, Harris & Vance LLP and his new rising star Callie Walker. He recruited her from a large New York firm. She just moved to Detroit a couple weeks ago."
The girl from the motel was a lawyer at a top law firm? Guess whores came in all shapes and occupations. Probably slept her way to the top.
"In fact I've reached out to her several times, to see if she'd advise us on setting up the new structure at the Marshall Mathers Foundation."
"Yeah? And?" I asked.
Paul shrugged. "She's refused to even meet with me."
"It's not like you to take no for an answer. Take her out for lunch or something."
"Maybe," Paul nodded. "I'll see how the week goes."
"I should get back to work," I said, heading for the door. "Let me know when you find the fucking rat."
I tried to ignore the approaching deadline, the constant texts from Nat and now the betrayal of someone I worked with and focus only on music. But my anger was lit and an explosion felt inevitable. The one bright spot was the girl from the motel.
I checked Paul's calendar over the next couple days. Sure enough, he scheduled a lunch with Callie Walker for Friday at a restaurant near the studio we frequented. Perfect.
On Friday I strolled into the restaurant. The server knew me well and asked if I wanted my own table or would be joining Paul. I looked over to where Paul sat with a blond woman. She was dressed in suit jacket and blouse with her hair pinned up, but there was no doubt it was the girl from the motel. My body grew warm as I recognized her. Thanking the server, I walked over to their table.
"Hey Paul, I didn't realize you were eating here today," I said, keeping my expression blank while watching Callie.
She looked up and our eyes met. All the color drained from her face, making her freckles stand out prominently.
"Marshall, join us. This is Callie Walker. I'm trying to talk her into helping us with the restructuring of the Marshall Mathers foundation," Paul smiled. "Callie, this is Marshall Mathers."
"Actually we – " I started to say when Callie cut me off.
"Nice to meet you Mr. Mathers," she said as I sat down across from her.
"Marshall, please," I said, playing along. Why didn't she want Paul to know we'd met before?
"Getting back to my proposal, don't say no now. Take a couple days and think it over. Please," Paul said as his phone buzzed on the table. "I'm sorry to be rude, but I have to get this. Excuse me."
Paul answered the call as he walked towards a quiet alcove at the back of the restaurant. Once we were alone, I stared at Callie while she fiddled with her fork.
"So... do you only work as a whore on the weekends?" I asked.
"I'm not an escort," she whispered as her cheeks flushed. "You assumed I was."
"And you didn't say or DO anything to change my mind," I pointed out.
"Let's just forget it happened," she said, glancing towards where Paul stood talking on his phone.
"I don't think so," I smirked. "Meet me tonight."
"What? No!" Callie looked shocked.
"Why not?" I frowned.
"I think it's better if we keep things on a professional level from now on."
I was stunned. It never occurred to me that she wouldn't jump at the chance to fuck again. She'd certainly been down the first time.
"I disagree," I said, leaning back in my chair studying her. "It was good and I wanna do it again."
"Not an option," she said firmly, shaking her head.
What the fuck? This slut was turning me down? She had no problem using me before, couldn't wait to spread her legs for Eminem. But now that it might impact her career, she wanted nothing to do with me. Fucking bitch.
Well too fucking bad. I needed an arrangement and wanted it with her. She'd made her bed and now she was gonna fuck in it.
"Here's what's going to happen," I said in a cold voice. "When Paul comes back, you're going to accept his offer to work for the Foundation. Then you're going to meet me tonight in the same motel room at 8:00."
"No," she said, shaking her head again. "I'm not doing either."
"Really? Cause it might be hard getting ahead in that fancy law firm if people find out what an easy slut you are. Then again, maybe not." I shrugged as I saw Paul start back towards the table.
Callie stared at me. "You wouldn't," she whispered.
I leaned forward onto the table and lowered my voice. "Try me. I'll make sure absolutely everyone knows how fast you jumped on my dick and loved every second of it."
"Then ... then I'll tell everyone you use escorts," she said, eyes narrowing.
"Go ahead," I shrugged. "You've got no proof."
"Neither do you," she argued.
"Which do you think people are more likely to believe? That I hired an escort? Or you were only too willing to spread your legs for me the first time we met?"
We sat in silence for a couple moments as Paul sat down and smiled. "Sorry about that. What did I miss?"
"I was just telling Callie more about the Foundation," I said. "Good news, I think I changed her mind."
Paul looked over at Callie. After a moment, she lay a hand on the proposal and smiled.
"It's a great opportunity and I look forward to working with you. Thank you."
"That's terrific!" Paul smiled. "Maybe I should invite you to all my meetings Marshall."
I heard Callie choke-cough as I stood.
"Well now that I've done your job for ya, I should be getting back to the studio. Guess I'll be seeing you Callie," I said, staring at her to make sure she took my double meaning.
After a week of suspecting every employee of betraying me and killing myself in the studio to finish more songs, I was looking forward to tonight's release. Happy I'd solved a couple problems at once. I had a discrete new arrangement for sex and didn't need to use the escort service after all. It was perfect.
I'd booked the same room by phone and arrived early. After a quick trip to the vending machine, I paced the room waiting for Callie, eager to fuck. As 8:00 grew closer without her arrival, my anger spiked. She wouldn't be stupid enough to not show, would she?
When 8:00 came and went, I was livid. At 8:30 I finally gave up and stormed out to my SUV.
As I drove home, I tried to decide exactly how I would destroy Callie Walker.
