Page 17 of Hired By My Rich Baby Daddy

Then she did that little finger motion people used when they wanted to sayclock it.

Ozy didn’t say anything. He looked down at the notepad in his hand, scratched something out, then stared at it.

The beat played again, and without even thinking about it, I quietly sang along. I wasn’t singing loud. At least, I didn’t think I was.

I was just trying to remember the melody they had used, while looking down at my hands.

Then the room got quiet.

I looked up, and everybody was staring at me.

My stomach dropped.

“What?” I asked, looking from face to face. “Why are y’all looking at me?”

Char’s mouth was hanging open.

One of the camera guys had turned the camera directly toward me, and even the engineer had spun around in his chair, his mouth hanging open wide enough for flies to get in.

Ozy stood behind the glass with his eyebrows raised.

Ginger looked confused too, but not in the same way I was. Her face looked more like she was trying to figure out why everybody had suddenly stopped paying attention toher.

Ozy pushed the booth door open and stepped out.

“That was you?” he asked.

I pointed at myself. “Uh… yeah.”

“You sing?”

“I mean… kinda.”

“Kinda?” Ozy laughed. “Nah, love. You can blow. You got that raspy, sultry shit this song is missing.”

“Oh, wow. Well… thank you.”

I didn’t know what else to say. I felt a little bad because I wasn’t trying to steal anybody’s shine.

“You sound good as hell,” he added.

Ginger came out of the booth behind him and pulled her headphones off. “What happened?”

“She can sing,” Ozy said, still looking at me.

Ginger glanced around. “Who?”

He licked his lips, never taking his eyes off me.

“Noree.”

Ozy turned toward the engineer. “Play the hook one more time.”

The music started again.

“Sing it for me, love,” he said.

My brows rose. “You sure?”