Healing Melody by Priya Grey, Ozlo Grey Page B

convincing her that it’s the puppy,” says Suzie with a shrug. “But she insists it’s you. She wants to keep seeing you. She thinks you might inspire her to write more songs.”
    “And she wants to keep fucking, right?”
    Suzie lowers her head and shakes it. “Please, keep your voice down.”
    I apologize, even though I don’t think anyone is listening to us.  
    Suzie clears her throat. “Yes. She wants to continue to engage in those… um…   activities… with you.”
    I take a sip of coffee and lean back in the booth. I’m surprised by the offer. I didn’t see any of this coming. “Well, to engage in those activities on an exclusive basis won’t come cheap,” I tell her.   “How long does she want to see me?”
    Suzie shrugs. “Depends on how long it takes her to write an album.”
    “Seriously?”
    Suzie nods.
    “Well, how long does that take, usually?”
    Suzie shrugs again and takes another sip of coffee. “You can’t really put a time table on creativity,” she replies. “We were thinking we would put you on a monthly retainer. Whenever Melody needs you, she calls you. Would one hundred thousand dollars a month be sufficient?”
    I nearly spit out my coffee. If Melody takes six months to write her album, I’ll be able to pay off my entire debt to Shane. I force myself to act cool. The one thing I’ve learned from dealing with Shane is: never take the first offer.
    “I was thinking something closer to one-fifty,” I say, trying to keep my enthusiasm hidden while desperately hoping I’m not blowing the deal.
    Suzie shrugs. “How about we just agree to two hundred thousand a month, and everyone’s happy.”  
    My jaw nearly drops. “That works,” I say with a slow nod. I’m trying to act like it’s no big deal. But inside me, my heart is pounding like a sledgehammer.
    “Great,” says Suzie. She reaches into her purse and takes out a stack of papers. She plops them on the table between us.
    “What’s this?”
    “A non-disclosure,” she says, pushing the papers toward me.   “By signing it, you agree to never tell anyone about your relationship with her. Otherwise, we can take you to court and sue you until you’re dead broke. And there’s something else in addition to the non-disclosure.”
    “What?” I ask as I flip through the pages.  
    “Melody wants you to get tested.”
    “STDs?”
    Suzie nods. “If you’re clean, she would like to move forward in your activities without protection.”
    I shrug. “For two hundred thousand a month, that won’t be a problem.”
    “Good,” says Suzie. “Now give me your phone number. That way we can contact you directly. You can drop off the contract the next time you and her meet.”
    After I give her my cellphone number, she gets up from the table. She swings her purse over her shoulder.
    “You’re not eating breakfast?” I ask.
    She shakes her head. “I had a green juice.” She lowers her glasses and shoots me a curious look. “You’re hot, I’ll give you that. But for two hundred thousand, you better be amazing in the sack.” She pushes her sunglasses up the ridge of her nose. “Melody will be in touch.” Then, she walks out of the restaurant.
    As I flip through the pages of the contract, the waitress appears with my French toast.
    “Eating alone?” she asks.
    “Looks that way,” I reply. “But listen, would you mind putting in an order for the Heavy Man special.”
    The waitress gives me a smirk. “Hungry, huh?”
    “I’ve been starving for years,” I say with a grin. “Now, I can finally feed myself.”
    “Coming right up, sweetie,” She walks toward the kitchen and places my order.

C HAPTER E IGHTEEN

    I drop down on the mat and look up at the kid. Luke, one of my trainers, has him in a triangle choke, one of the best submissions move in MMA fighting. The kid, whose name is Rico, recently joined my gym and doesn’t know what to do now that he’s trapped. His head is locked between three limbs