Author's Note: Hey you guys! Thank you so much for the reviews on this story. It has become incredibly fun to write and we have a lot of plans for it. Hope you guys let us know what you think. It is really starting to heat up (laugh). Lots of smiles and hugs to you all. Ahhhh! you wonderful people. Love. Angel422 and Undiscovered91

Tommy…

Tom hung his cell phone up slowly—staring at the receiver as if certain the thing would start ringing again at any moment. Jude was warming to him. He could feel it. A small laugh across the room made him look up slowly.

"You really think it's going to be that easy? Damn, you're one arrogant son of a bitch." Georgia remarked simply as she moved from the doorway to the chair positioned in front of his desk before falling into it heavily. Tom just grinned as he perused her quietly. Georgia could be crass and straight to the point, but it was that dogged determination and loud mouth that also made her good at her job. She was his manager—his Georgia to Darius's Liam. And he trusted her.

"And you think I won't win?" Tommy asked her quietly as he lifted his feet up to rest softly on the edge of his desk before bringing his hands up to support the back of his neck. She just raised her brows up at him.

"No, I just think that you don't realize how much harder that this fight is going to be." Georgia replied honestly as Tommy shrugged—leaning forward again as he fingered the edge of his cell phone once more.

"And what if I told you that sometimes you have to go over the artist's head to get what you want?" Tommy asked slowly as Georgia narrowed her eyes before placing her hands on the edge of his desk and shoving his feet off the side. He let them fall with a bang.

"And then I'd wonder if you had a death wish. I've worked with Jude before, Tom. She isn't your average artist. She is the go to girl, and she's one hell of a fire cracker." Georgia mumbled as Tommy shrugged before grinning again.

"Then let her explode, Georgia." He whispered into the room before grabbing his cell phone off the desk and flipping it open. His blood was boiling, and he suddenly realized that it was the first time in years—since his failed marriage and his…well it was just the first time in years since anyone had put him this much on edge. It felt good. It also worried him. A voice came over the line as he clutched the device.

"Toronto Daily News." A woman said slowly around what sounded like a mouthful of food. Tom sat forward in his desk.

"I have some pictures I think you'd be interested in seeing."

Jude…

I was sitting in the studio strumming my guitar and humming to a beat that had just popped into my head when Darius stormed in. He seemed to be good at that these days, although I had learned in the past two years that he usually became that way only when he was nervous. Something was up.

"I don't guess you'd care to explain this to me?" Darius asked as he threw a couple of copies of the tabloids into my lap. I had to scramble to catch them before they slid off to the floor—balancing my guitar one handed as I did. My chest constricted as I turned them over and viewed the pictures of me talking to a very self-assured Tom Quincy leaning against that damn table at the charity event we had attended. God, this man would be great for my waistline. Every time I turned around these days, I thought of calories. I shook my head as I perused the headline—'Jude Harrison: Switching Teams?"

"It's nothing, D. You know the press." I commented as I threw the flimsy books right back at him. He sighed.

"Is it nothing, Jude, because I see this as anything but nothing?" Darius stated in a low tone as I looked at the floor—praying I guess that the frayed carpet there would give me sudden enlightenment. Talking carpet—yeah, it could work.

"I'm still under contract." I finally murmured for lack of a better explanation as Darius laughed—really laughed in that unbelieving way that makes your spine tense up.

"For about five more months Jude. Just five more months." Darius proclaimed as I shrugged. I wasn't going to let him see me cower. If he wanted to keep me as his artist, he needed to lighten up, and he needed to know that I was a commodity now. My eyes met with his a moment before he shook his head and stormed out of the door. A rustling noise reminded me that I wasn't alone.

"I can't believe you are seriously considering that man's offer." A voice mumbled from behind me, and I turned to look at Spied quietly. He didn't realize the pressure I was under right now.

"Maybe you should too, Spied. You are the lead guitarist of my band…and my boyfriend." I declared stoically as he laid down his own guitar before moving toward me. His expression was more serious that usual and Spied was never serious.

"I don't know, my little wild flower. The whole thing just kinda bothers me." He reiterated before biting his lower lip and kicking me in the behind. I laughed at him.

"Alright Beevis, I promise I won't take any drastic measures—for now." I retorted wryly as Spied raised a brow up at me—noting I think the 'for now.'

A restaurant in Toronto later that night…

Tommy…

Tommy entered the luxury dining area slowly—straightening up in his expensive leather jacket before nodding to a few of the executives he knew at this exclusive club. Most of them had drinks in their hands and greed on their minds. Tonight, Tom just wanted the drink.

"What can I get you, Mr. Quincy?" The bartender asked as he approached. The man knew him from previous nights there—way too many previous nights. But that was what the club was here for—a place where a celebrity could get away without the constant flash of the camera. And Tommy didn't cook if he could manage it so late dinners were mostly spent out in town.

"Something strong and dry." Tommy muttered as the man raised a brow before nodding and heading off to do as he was bid.

"You seem ready to drown a few woes. Maybe I should join you. I could use the tension release." A male voice stated sardonically from behind Tom, and Tommy smiled. Yep, the pictures must have really gotten to him. Sitting up authoritatively, Tommy turned slowly and with purpose as he lifted an arm up to rest on the bar.

"Maybe I should buy you one, Mills. I hear you may be losing an artist." Tommy said carefully—keeping his features schooled as Darius slipped into the stool next to him.

"What are you doing, Tom?" Darius asked before holding his hand up to keep Tommy from answering the question.

"Never mind that. She's my artist, Tom." Darius stated narrowly as Tommy perused him speculatively. They both knew who they were talking about.

"Is she?" Tommy asked in return as Darius backed Tom up against the bar menacingly—the glint in his eyes belying the false confidence he exuded. Tom just shrugged as he pressed a hand into Darius's chest warningly.

"You sure enough to bet her contract on it?" Tom demanded suddenly as Darius leaned back hurriedly--staring first at Tom and then out into the room in general.

"What did you have in mind?" Darius asked warily as Tommy shrugged before pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and twirling it between his fingers.

"Lend her to me." Tommy stated simply as Darius's jaw dropped open.

"Excuse me?" Darius asked as Tommy chuckled. Shocking people made his day, hell it made his week.

"Like a loan." Tommy reiterated as Darius shook his head vehemently.

"You've lost it, Quincy. She's under contract with me, and it stays that way." Darius announced firmly as Tommy rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, but she hasn't written a hit song since White Lines. I'll bet you that I can have her number one on the charts with brand new lyrics in under a month." Tommy commented as Darius laughed.

"It's impossible. She doesn't co-write, and she's stubborn as hell." Darius pointed out as Tommy shrugged. Yeah, but she had never worked with him before.

"Then what do you have to be afraid of, Mills. If she isn't number one on the billboard charts by the end of the month, I'll forfeit my interest in her contract, and I'll retract the offer I made her so that she has no choice but to sign back with you. Can you afford to say no to that, D? Can you trust that she won't sign with me on her own if you don't take me up on this?" Tommy replied with a small shrug as Darius narrowed his eyes. Tommy couldn't do it. It was impossible. But was Darius willing to bet on that?

"You have a deal. Break a leg." Darius finally stated in a low tone as Tommy grinned.