We walk silently back to the bar where our half full glasses are still there waiting. Steele takes a seat. I hesitate, not sure where to sit, especially with a short skirt on and nothing under neath. He pats the stool next to him, just like he did earlier in the night on stage. I pull on my skirt a bit and smooth it down as I take a seat.

Steele holds his glass up once again, indicating he would like to toast. I raise mine up waiting to hear what he's going to say.

"Here's to us, babe."

We each take a drink.

"You haven't said a word, Annika, are you okay?"

"I am. Just a little...surprised I guess."

"Understandable. I know you've been wanting me for a long time. You probably didn't think I would ever give it up."

"Shut up," I laugh.

He flashes a smile back at me. "Seriously, you can't deny what we have. I've asked before but this is our last chance, Annika."

I don't want him to ask me again. I don't want to have to say no. Right now I just want to jump into his arms and tell him not to go - but that would wrong of me. Besides, he has to go, I don't. I have to take care of me and finish what I set out to do for myself. I learned the hard way in life that there's only one person I can count on - and that's myself.

"Steele, I wish I could say I would throw everything away and just leave with you, but you know I can't."

"I told you I wouldn't give up. I leave tomorrow night. If what we just did, what we just shared didn't convince you we're meant to be together, nothing will."

"We fucked, Steele. It was amazing, but that's all it was."

Steele's head jerks back at my response. "You don't mean that."

I take a breath regretting the words, "I don't mean it, but I'm trying to make the break easier for both of us."

"Just because you don't want to come with me, doesn't mean we can't be together."

"You need to focus on your career. You're going to be traveling all over the country. Girls are going to be tossing their panties at you on a daily basis. You don't need to be worried about having ties, and I don't want to be the one tying you down."

"Annika, you're the one I want. None of those girls will matter. I know who I want and it's you."

"Steele, stop making this harder than it has to be. We can't be together. I don't want to do that to you - or to myself."

Steele finishes his drink and places the glass back on the bar, spinning it in his hand a few times before speaking again.

"You're right. I'm not going to beg - I've already asked you more than enough times. Your mind is made up and I can respect that. If you and I are meant to be, fate will bring us back together."

I chuckle, "that sounds very cliche."

"It is. I don't believe in that shit."

We both laugh, feeling the tension fade and back to ourselves again.

"I'm going to miss you, babe," Steele says solemnly.

"I'll miss you too."

He leans into me and kisses my forehead. I lay my head on his shoulder.

"Now let's get this place locked up and get you home," he orders.

"You don't have to..." I began.

"I know, but I am," he interrupts, anticipating what I was going to say.

We both stand. Steele watches while I straighten my skirt. He pulls a piece of my panties from his pocket, just enough to remind me they're there.

"I'm taking these with me."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," I kid.

Steele takes me in his arms and squeezes me tight against him. I lean into his warm body and rest my head on his chest. He puts his hands on my face, looks into my eyes, and puts his lips on mine. We kiss, long and slow, like we're trying to memorize how it feels and what it tastes like. Like we don't want to forget. We pull apart reluctantly and he flashes that smile at me once more. God, I love that smile. Steele squeezes my hand in a gesture that speaks all the words he's tired of saying to me. I squeeze him back.

Hand in hand, he leads me to the exit. My heart is beating so hard I can feel it in my throat. I want him - I do - it's just not the right time.

I shut the lights and lock the door behind me, hoping I'm not making the biggest mistake of my life.

Chapter 3.

Five Years Later

"I know how you feel about musicians, Annika, but this has your name all over it."

I roll my eyes. "You just like to torture me."

"For the amount of money you make, you should take it with a smile."

I put on an exaggerated grin, take the folder from my boss, and sit in the plush leather chair in front of her desk.

I started at Maximum Talent Management, or MTM, as an intern while finishing my degree in finance. I have since become one of the top financial advisors to some of the biggest talent my agency represents.

Over the last few years, I have helped some very well known musicians, artists, and actors, basically just 'get their shit together'. I find that's the easiest way to explain it. When people start making the kind of money they do, they tend to forget that the income and profits are not endless. Regardless of how others treat them and how spoiled they want to be, the money won't always be coming in the way it does at their peak, and it needs to be managed properly. When they start getting greedy or careless with their assets, that's when I'm sent in to get a handle on things.

My boss, Jayne, and I worked closely together in the beginning. She was my mentor and taught me the ins and outs of the business, and more specifically, MTM. She spent a lot of time teaching me about the PR and management end of things as well, hoping to bring me up to where she is one day.She was promoted to lead consultant last year and now oversees finance, management, and public relations for a large part the firm.

Aware of my abilities and my personal background in the music business, she was quick to give me some of the best clients and help build my reputation at MTM. I've proven to be every bit the prodigy she believed me to be and I'm now second in command to her in the financial department. We have become friends as well as colleagues which is why I can kid around with her the way I do.

In that time, since finishing school, I moved into a small apartment in the city that I bought with the money I had saved over the years and the credit I was easily able to qualify for with my new position. I travel a lot for work, so the space meets all of my needs. I'm close to the office and don't have a lot of maintenance. I've also managed to remain too busy for any meaningful relationship, so the one bedroom and mini kitchen suit me just fine.

Jayne gives her attention to whatever is on her computer screen and sips her coffee. I lean back and open the folder. I begin to read the header. It's only a matter of seconds before my mouth falls open.

Steele Rush.

My face flushes as I'm flooded with memories I have suppressed for so long. I stare at the pages, flipping through them but reading nothing. I can't focus. My senses have left me. All I see is him. The feelings we had. The moments we shared. His body on mine. It's all coming back to me.

"Are you okay, Annika?"

I shuffle the papers and fumble to get them back in the folder. "Sure. I just didn't know we represented them...him."

"He's a new client. His camp broke the contract with their last manager. Rumor has it there were some sketchy side deals being made. He needs someone to help regroup, rebrand, and recoup a lot of lost revenues. He needs the best in the biz which is why he's with us now and also why you're taking the lead on this one."

I stare at the picture on the first page. It's the cover from Steele's last album. There his is, front and center, looking every part the famous rocker that he's become. He's posed on stage with his acoustic guitar hanging provocatively at his side. His dark hair is carelessly hanging in pieces over his face, although I'm sure a stylist set it just like that. I can see his gray eyes underneath. They're fixed straight ahead as if they're staring right at me. I gaze back at them like I'm waiting for him to blink. I glance at the stubble on his chin and touch my own, remembering how it felt rubbing against my face when we kissed.

"Earth to Annika. Hello?"

Jayne's voice startles me from my daydream, "sorry, what?"

"Is that going to be a problem?"

"What?" I assume she's talking about me working with Steele, but I wasn't listening and how would she know anyway?

"I've made arrangements for you to leave on Thursday. You'll meet them in Atlanta at the next show venue. There's a detailed itinerary included in the paperwork."

I close the folder, place my hands over it in an effort to keep whatever is inside out of my mind for now.

"Of course it's not a problem. This is what I do." I give Jayne a reassuring smile, "I have the rest of today and tomorrow to prepare. No worries."

"Okay, good, because you had me concerned there for a minute. I know Steele is gorgeous, but you know the deal, I don't think I need to tell you."

I scoff, "not even a thought. I'm a professional. No mixing business with pleasure."

Now would be the perfect time to tell Jayne about what Steele and I had in the past, but what was it - a crush? It's been over long enough that I don't need to get into it. It would probably sound childish anyway.

"Just checking. I would have a hard time keeping my hands off a client like that, but we've all been there. I wouldn't risk my job for a tryst with a hot rocker," Jayne says in a playful tone.

"Jayne!"

"Get out of here and get working on this. Check in with me this afternoon with any questions."

"Thanks, I will."

I stand, grasping the folder in front of me with both hands and walk to my office, shutting the door behind me.

I sit down hard on my own desk chair and place the folder on the desk in front of me. I fold my hands in my lap. I'm staring at it like it's a bomb that will detonate if I open it - which in a way, it is.

I put this behind me years ago. Steele left to go on tour and that was pretty much the end of whatever we had. We tried to keep in touch - he did anyway. He called, he wrote, sent me funny postcards from different cities. He wanted me to come see him so many times. I just...I couldn't. I knew if I let him in again, I wouldn't be able to let him go.

It took a few months of me not replying or being stand offish enough for Steele to stop. I was such a bitch. Even then, he wasn't mean about it. He wrote me a long letter - it was incredible. It was like a beautiful song full of feelings and emotions. I cried like a baby when I read it. I wanted to run into his arms and never look back, but I didn't.

I chickened out. I chose 'me' over 'us'. I chose to focus on myself and my goals. I chose to get to where I wanted to be instead of going where he wanted me to go. I don't think it was selfish, it's just what I had to do.

I thanked him for the letter and told him to let it go - to let me go - and he did. It broke my heart and I'm sure it broke his, but I had to. It was just the right thing to do at the time.

It's not like I didn't follow his career after that. His face was everywhere, his music on the radio, his fan pages full of pictures and videos. There was no escaping Steele Rush. I couldn't ignore him if I tried, he was all around me.

The worst part was hearing and reading about all of his love interests, of which there were many. He was photographed with many different women. There were the music awards, celebrity events, dinner at local hot spots. Wherever he was, there was a beautiful woman on his arm. I'm sure there were many more that weren't photographed. Groupies, backstage bangers, women in every city, I can only imagine his endless list of conquests.

I can't complain though, I had my chance. I can't say if things would have turned out differently if I was in the picture or not. He may have given them all up for me, he might not have. I'll never know. There's no way to change the past anyway, so it really doesn't matter anymore.

What matters now, is that I have to go see him face to face. I can't hide anymore. I have to put my personal feelings aside and deal with the business at hand.

I sit up and open the folder. There are those gray eyes staring back at me again. This is going to be hard. I inhale and flip the page so I can read through the catalog of information. It seems Steele has made himself quite the fortune already. It also appears that he likes to spend a lot of it. The list of equipment, roadies, tour buses, hotel and travel expenses is endless. His manager may have been skimming off the top, but Steele has spent his fair share.

I take some notes and enter data into my spreadsheet program to get the ball rolling. In this quick overview, I already see a lot of changes that can be made. Then again, the problem usually isn't the mismanaged money, it's convincing the client to make adjustments and cutbacks.

This dilemma is further complicated when dealing with musicians, more specifically, male musicians. They think they know everything and oppose any kind of change. I've dealt with them before and it's never pretty and never fun. Between the usual complications and my history with Steele, this assignment is going to be the most difficult one of my career by far.

I hate to admit it, but I believe that at least a small part of my success in dealing with them is due to my looks. Being a decent looking woman with a shapely body helps. Sadly, I think some of the clients break down and agree to whatever I'm asking because they think I'll give in to what they want. I never do - I don't even pretend to - but men can be like that sometimes. By the time they understand that I'm a professional, not a fan or groupie, I've already made whatever changes are needed and my job is essentially done. That's not always the case, but it's just another reason for me to hate dealing with these rock stars.

I complete my assessment so far and compose an email to Jayne. I don't have any questions at this point, nor do I care to discuss anything about this mess with her right now. I've had enough Steele Rush for today.

I collect my things and leave the office. I have to pack and get ready anyway, so leaving a little earlier than normal won't be a problem. I drive the short distance to my apartment and leave my car in the lot. I ride the elevator up to my floor and feel relieved to finally get home.

I pour myself a glass of wine and change out of my work clothes and into some cozy sweats and one of my favorite old concert tees. Placing my glass of wine on the coffee table, I lay back on the sofa with my laptop positioned on my belly. I type "Steele Rush" into the search bar and get bombarded with pages including his name, videos, images, and articles. I need to hone up on my knowledge if I'm going to be dealing with Steele and his crew. It's something I do when being assigned to any client. This one feels more like I'm watching a train wreck than research though.

As I pore through the information laid out before me, one key factor sets in. Steele looks fucking hot. I can't find one photo or video where he doesn't. It's almost inhuman how good this man looks - or maybe it's just the way I see him - I don't know. Either way, it's not good. For me, anyway.

I also notice that he's been traveling with the same back up musicians and singers since he started. There is one woman who's face appears in many of the photos. She's very attractive, but what catches my attention most is the way she's looking at Steele in every photo. It might be coincidence, but she's also positioned herself near him in almost every one. Interesting.

A pang of jealousy hits me, but I let it go. I have no right to feel that way. Steele and I are nothing more than history. We were barely even anything to begin with. I've always had a hunch that Steele only wanted me because he couldn't have me. I've often wondered if I gave into him, if I said yes, would he still have wanted me?

Whatever. It doesn't matter. I need to just focus on the facts and figures. That's my job and that's what Steele is paying MTM big money for. If I let my own feelings get in the way, I wouldn't be doing my job.

Back to the task at hand, I pull up my notes and the spreadsheets that I started earlier at the office. Steele's finances are a mess. He has an enormous amount of money coming in, but way too much going out. My job is to know how to remedy the problem - and I do. I'm just not sure I'm the one for this particular assignment, but I can't turn it down. It would look terrible for me - and my firm.

I need to focus so I close the windows on my screen that contain photos of Steele that way I can really concentrate on him like any other client. I spend the next couple of hours laying out a plan of action that I can review with Jayne before I leave. By the time I decide to call it a night, I've make a lot of progress. I have enough information and creative suggestions to present something decent tomorrow. Not bad for a day's work. Then again, that's what makes me one of the best.

Before going to bed, I pack for my trip, but I can't get Steele off my mind. I throw a couple of cute outfits in my bag in addition to my normal business attire. I want to believe I'm all business and this trip will be nothing but professional, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to try and look my best. It's not that I want Steele to want me, but maybe a small part of me wants him to look at me the way he used to. Even if it's just for a minute.