Page 19 of Hired By My Rich Baby Daddy

“I’m not trying to get put on anything,” I said quickly.

Ozy looked over at Ginger. “Nobody said she was getting put on the song.”

“Then why are you bringing her in the booth?”

“Because I want her to help me finish it.”

Ginger stared at him for a few seconds. “So, I’m standing right here, but you need her to help you?”

He let out a breath. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m not doing anything. I’m asking a question.”

“And I answered it.”

The whole room felt different now.

“I can stay right here,” I told him. “It’s really okay.”

Ozy looked at me. “Nah…come on, love.”

There was something about the way he said it.

He reached for my hand, and I hesitated for a second before placing mine in his. I stood up and walked with him while every camera in the room followed me.

Ginger shook her head and walked back toward the couch.

“This is so unnecessary,” she mumbled.

Ozy held the booth door open for me. “Ignore her.”

“I don’t think she wants me in here.”

“She’ll be all right. This is my studio.”

I stepped inside, and he closed the door behind us.

His phone was propped up in front of the microphone with a live video going. The comments were moving so fast that I could barely read them.

The booth felt a lot smaller with him standing beside me.

He handed me a pen and the notepad. “Write that line down before we forget it.”

I took the pen from him, and our fingers grazed. A spark shot through me; one I couldn’t explain.

The page had words written all over it. Some were crossed out, some circled, with arrows pointing in every direction.

“This is a mess,” I said.

He laughed. “I know where everything at.”

“Yeah, okay,” I teased.

“Write it under the second verse.”

I leaned forward, but I couldn’t tell where the second verse even started. “Where?”

“Right here.” He stepped closer and reached around me to point at the page.