Played (Elite PR) by Clare James Page A

Fredrick’s smirk, she then turned her body in Miranda’s direction. “Sure, I guess it’d be the end of the story, if he wasn’t making music again, or hadn’t secured a label, or didn’t look like a cross between Luke Bryan and Jake Owen. Or if country music wasn’t the number one music genre in the U.S.
    “He was a baby when he debuted and let me tell you, I met with him this morning, and he is coming into this thing all man. New sound, new look. It’s not a comeback story. It’s a taking the music scene by storm story.”
    She took a sip of water and played it cool. But inside, her mind reeled. Not only about the freaking presentation, but about Aaron, too. She couldn’t help it. He had been on top and had fallen from grace? No wonder he’d been so kind to her, so understanding of her pathetic sob-story and down-on-her-luck woes. He’d been there. He was there.
    She didn’t get the chance to dig into the past about his famous mama, but she did read that his daddy passed, and from the way it sounded last night, he kept close tabs on his brother. It made her want to help him. To fix this mess.
    But why didn’t he tell her? In her current homeless, quasi-jobless state, she wouldn’t have been one to judge. That pang of hurt she felt because he hadn’t confided in her—she squashed that down. She was swimming with the sharks in this conference room, and thanks to Frederick, her blood was already in the water.
    “I don’t think a washed up cowboy is worth our time,” The Weasel continued. He was digging in and wasn’t about to let it go. He loved watching people fail. The asshole all but helped her move her things to Intern Row after her demotion. At least he wasn’t fighting for the project. That was a positive.
    “That cowboy doesn’t look washed up to me,” the director of media relations chimed in.
    The hushed echoes of agreement started to fill the space.
    She waited for the momentum of the room to take over.
    “I don’t think so either,” Emily agreed, flashing Mel a wink. “And Jumpstart is making huge waves in Nashville right now.”
    Em led the Events group and tried to help when Mel was on the chopping block. She’d had a meeting with Miranda, but said there was nothing more she could do. Trouble was, nobody would ever cross Miranda. Mel understood. Life at Elite was easier when you weren’t on the Ice Queen’s shit list. But it was the way Em treated her afterward that really hurt. She’d pulled away from Mel and hadn’t so much as looked in her direction since the demotion—which made her wary of her new found enthusiasm. Maybe she wanted Aaron.
    God, it was painful just to think it. Then again, what if Em was the better person for the job? Could she take that away from him?
    Not a chance.
    Mel expelled a deep breath.
    She’d make her pitch and do the best damn job she could, then she’d let the chips fall. She’d work her ass off for Aaron’s campaign, but if Miranda thought there was someone better for the project, she wouldn’t fight her. He deserved that much.
    “He’s the real deal, y’all.” Mel lifted her chin and made eye contact with each person assembled around the vast conference table.
    “Right.” Fredrick rolled his eyes. “I don’t care what you say. It’s a comeback. Personally, I think people are tired of giving celebrities second chances.”
    She had planned to wait for this next part and do it privately with Miranda, when she told her about the tight timeline and the lack of budget. But Fredrick was pushing her into a corner—and at the moment, he had Miranda’s ear. It was time for a new strategy.
    “Okay, Fredrick,” she conceded. “I understand where you’re coming from. Thing is, Aaron Major is no longer a celebrity. He’s just a guy who loves to play music.” She nodded to Tiffany, who started setting up the screen at the far end of the room. “But I wouldn’t expect you to take my word for it.”
    Tiffany dimmed the lights and hit