Compromise Me: Prologue

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Prologue

Travis trotted down to his boss' office, his mind upstairs in the recording studio mulling over why the hell Livie signed that new girl group. Crybabies, every one of them. They had yet to get a single track laid, after two weeks being here. But he was glad Livie called him down because now he could tell her the Bossy Babies were a mistake and they can get rid of them.

"I'm here," he said, spying Olivia Williams, CEO and owner of Raw Studios in Memphis, Tennessee standing in minature by one of her large windows overlooking the street. "What's up?"

Livie glanced at him. "Close the door, please."

Travis came to a dead stop. "The door?"

"Yes, close it."

He swallowed and looked at the door. "Does it close?"

She smiled. "Not sure. Never tried before."

He gently laid his hand on the handle, almost expecting it to bite him, and carefully eased it shut. The hinges squeaked. In all the years he worked here as a sound tech, he'd never seen that door closed. Honestly, he didn't know there was one.

He let out a breath and turned around. Already, the large room felt stuffy.

Livie hopped up on the edge of her desk, her shrewd eyes staring at him from a weathered, aged face. "How old do you think I am?" she asked.

He stopped again and looked back at the door. "You tell me to close the door, then ask me that? This is the makings of a future crime scene, Livie."

She snorted. "Smartass. I'm serious. How old am I?"

He cheeked her with a grin. "Not a day over twenty."

"I'm seventy-two."

That young? he thought, guessing more along the lines of pterodactyls.

"And yet, still so beautiful," he said, plopping down in a cushy chair. "So, is this a math lesson? Or something else."

"Something else," she said and added, "I'm retiring."

"Today?"

"No, not today," she laughed. "I'm looking at a year and a half from now."

"So, I have some time to figure out how the hell to write a resume," he said.

"No need for that just yet. That's why I wanted to talk to you." She reached behind her and grabbed a lump of silly putty, twisting it in her fingers. She said, "Three months ago I went in for a routine checkup and came out with a prescription for Sinemet."

He didn't know what that was.

She sighed, sounding serious, but no one was ever sure when Livie Williams was serious. So, Travis asked, "Birth control at your age, Livie?"

"No, Travis," she said calmly. "Parkinson's. Still early but it's there."

Dumbfounded, he asked, "What?" as he shifted to stare at her hands, always moving...always moved, for as long as he'd known her.

"The medication hides it, most of the time, but I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to do all this." She swept her hand over to the wall decorated with photos of her most successful discoveries. "I don't want to give it up, but someday, I might have to, and that day might come sooner than both us would like."

Travis sat forward, not wanting to believe any of it. Livie had been like his mother. No other woman ever cared for him like she did. "What do you need from me?" he asked. "Anything. I'll help in any way."

She smiled. "Right now, I ask that you keep this between us. No one else knows. A year from now...? I might not be able to keep it a secret."

"What do you need, Livie?"

Her dark eyes bore into him. "This studio is my baby, Travis. It took me almost forty years to open my own place, and I don't want it to fall into the wrong hands. I need someone to take over after I'm gone, someone who loves this place as much as me. Someone like you. You, specifically."

A surreal sensation swept over him. This was never in his future plans. To own a studio? To manage it? To do her job?

Travis said, "Uh, Liv? I'm just a sound tech."

"You know more about this studio than anyone else here."

"Yeah, but I don't have a freaking clue how to run a business. I'm not sure--"

She smiled kindly. "Don't worry about that, Travis. I know someone who does -- or will, when she graduates this May."

He frowned at her. "Who?"

Livie looked away. "I trust her to be good for this place," she said. "She loves this studio; she loves the industry--"

"Who?" he asked again, not getting a good feeling about this.

"She'll graduate with degrees in both music and business and is currently interning at Smash Studios in New York City, and--"

He only knew one person in New York City who fit that description. Nausea threaded up his throat. "Who, Liv?"

Livie went on, ignoring him, "She just needs a little more experience under her belt so I hired her to be my assistant. She starts in June, right after she graduates, and she doesn't know about my condition or my retiring or anything else, so this next year will be a sort of trial run, because I'm hoping -- praying -- she can keep her priorities straight while working here and--

Oh, Jesus... Travis stood up. "Livie! Who?"

Livie pursed her lips. "Now, just hear me out completely. She'll be great. She's grown up. She's--"

"It's Josie Kirkland, isn't it?"

Livie exhaled swiftly. "Yes."

He stared at her. "Have you lost your ever-loving mind?"

She grinned. "That's always been a subject of debate."

He sat back down. "Josie Kirkland? Princess Kirkland?"

Now, she looked angry. "Yes, Josie Kirkland," she said. "I know you and her have this...history together--"

"She's a flirt and a tease, and she's never serious about anything!"

"She's smart, and she knows the business," Livie argued. "She comes from a good family -- which I trust completely -- and I know she won't let me down."

Travis shook his head. Josie Kirkland...f*ck. "God, I hope you're right," he said.

"I am," she said firmly. "She'll be great. And the two of you will be partners. If you don't like something she does, then you'll have the right to say so and hopefully work together to compromise with each other."

Partners. With Josie. Work with her? Or work on that resume?

No, this is my home, he told himself. I'm not going anywhere. He looked up. "Okay, I'll trust you on this, but I'm going to need one thing."

She eyed him warily. "What's that?"

"A copy of our sexual harassment policy."

Livie chuckled. She picked up a green binder and tossed it to him. "I mailed one to Josie with her contract. I don't see this being a problem. She'll be professional at the studio. Just like I'm counting on you to be. After hours...well, that's just an issue you'll have to figure out on your own. Don't want your personal lives to interwine? Stay away from her after work."

"I have no plans to 'intertwine' with her at all," he said. "I have my own personal problems."

Livie smiled. "How is Arielle and Tristan?"

"They're fine. I'm taking Trist for the weekend, so you mind if I skip out early on Friday?"

"You know I never mind," she said.

"Yeah, but will Josie mind?" he asked and went back upstairs to deal with the Bossy Babies. Because compared to Josie Kirkland's skills of female manipulation, the girls in that group were amateurs.

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