Especially after their time together a couple of days ago.
“It’s ridiculous, is what it is.” Harrison’s quiet fury was evident in his voice. “First ‘Porchlight’ and now this?” He refocused, aiming his glare directly at her once more. “You’re getting too entangled withher. People are going to start associating the two of you.”
Her stomach fluttered softly at the idea. Admittedly, with nerves. But… she certainly didn’t hate it. “Darcy is the biggeststar in country music right now. By far,” she returned, evenly, stating facts that would have burned her up six months ago. But now – especially after two nights ago, after listening to Darcy tell her in that hoarse, wounded voice about how she’d gotten to this point – she was fucking proud of her. “Having a professional association with her is a good thing.”
Harrison lowered his fork with aclang. Which made everything inside of her go on high alert, because that meant he was getting serious. He wasn’t playing for nonchalance anymore. “I was fine with the Shelby Linwood song.” He waved his hand, dismissing it. “Your feud wasn’t a good look for you.”
Yeah, and he’d gotten to rope her into another performance. Dance, monkey, dance. She barely contained her scoff.
“But facts are facts. Darcy Kincaid doesn’t have staying power; that new album is coming out in a couple of weeks, and we’re all going to see it. She’s got a decent voice and a tight ass–”
“Harrison, please,” her mom attempted to cut in, with the quietest voice.
“But she’s cheap and gaudy. Thomas should have discussed it with me before agreeing to the soundtrack,” Harrison finished, shaking his head.
Juliet’s hand was trembling.
She only realized it when she felt her knuckles tap against the table. She lowered her hand to her lap slowly, so it wasn’t obvious that she’d had such a strong reaction. But her hands didn’t stop shaking, even as she locked them so tightly together she could feel the strain in her arms.
But she didn’t know if she’d ever been more livid. More insulted. Her blood was boiling in her veins, and she tried to take a deep breath, hoping her face wasn’t heating up the way she felt like it was.
Both of her brothers laughed again, which she barely heard over the rushing of blood in her ears, her breath coming faster.
Her mom’s voice was quiet – because wasn’t it always when it came to Harrison? – “Honey…”
Harrison held up his hand in her direction to keep her quiet, maintaining his attention solely on Juliet. “For that matter,youshould have discussed it with me.”
“I don’t have to discuss every decision I make with you,” she challenged without missing a beat.
The fire in her voice was evident, clearer now than iteverwas when she talked to Harrison. But she couldn’t tamp it down if she tried. Not when all she was imagining was flipping the table over onto him, staining the pristine white tablecloths he cared so much about being immaculate. Maybe, ideally, a fork would stick deeply into him with the force.
Cash and Harry’s snickering abruptly cut off, and she could see peripherally the way both of their wide eyes snapped in her direction.No onetalked back to Harrison, and it was a lesson they’d all learned at some point.
“Honey,” her mom said again, this time aimed at her, her lips tugged up into a smile that was so very clearly strained. “Let’s just have brunch.”
She could see the vein in Harrison’s forehead pulsing, and she felt as satisfied as she possibly could in this moment.
“I see,” he muttered, darkly. He leaned back in his chair, staring her down, before he slowly stood up.
She sat straight up in her chair, facing forward across the table. Staring her mom down as impassively as she could while her heart slammed against her ribs, as Harrison slowly came to stand next to her.
He put his hand down on the table next to her water, towering above Juliet, close enough that she could feel him, feel his imposing stature.
Tightly, she set her jaw, tilting her head up.
“And… where did yougetthis illustrious career, Juliet? The one that you don’t have to discuss with me before making decisions?” He asked, staring her down. He leaned in closer, his tone taunting her when he added, “How did that happen? Who paid for the voice lessons? The guitar lessons? Private one-on-one schooling? Flights to and from L.A.? Who opened those fucking doors, huh?”
By the time he finished, he’d lowered himself to be mere inches from her face. Hissing the words directly at her profile, not backing away.
Harrison had never gotten more physical than this, but it was always enough to make her know that – technically – hecould. Harrison was a man who could, really, do whatever he wanted. And he loved to remind her of that.
It was why she’d learned not to try to push this boundary. Because she truly believed he enjoyed a showing like this every so often, putting her in her place.
She didn’t say anything. All she could do was control her own breathing. Deep inhale. Hold. Slow exhale.
A glint of satisfaction worked over Harrison’s expression as he breathed out a humorless laugh. “That’s what I thought.”
With that, he knocked his knuckles against the table close enough to her water to cause ripples through it, and then stood back up.