A Love Song for Lucifer: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Leading Ladies) Page 4

  I also keep it to myself that I think her version of it does it justice. Hell, it does it more than justice, it’s perfect. Only seeing the thumbnail pop up on my screen of her face under the title of the song makes me need to listen to it for the hundredth time since I found it.

  But that’s simply because I love music, I remind myself. Why am I acting like she’s my damn soul mate or something?

  To balance things out, I send a performance by Eminem to show her I’m not some soft gooey man who has watched her YouTube channel obsessively.

  And this time my message has a vicious red exclamation point next to it.

  Not Delivered.

  And there is no mistaking, this time she really blocked me.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Melody

  Christmas passed too quickly, as Christmas always does. For a long time, what made Christmas so joyful was having a tiny Julia running around like a maniac because Santa came. She’s outgrown that for about half a decade now, but I still haven’t gotten over the tug of nostalgia that we don’t have a little one in the family anymore.

  Last year was the only year I had a boyfriend during Christmas. Music is a jealous and demanding boyfriend all on its own, not leaving much room for someone in my life who isn’t equally as obsessive as me. So far that person doesn’t exist, but last year I gave it a shot with Clark, a guy I met at Bowie’s who was an aspiring actor. The relationship ended after about 6 months, but since it fell over Christmas, my mom had no problem laying out a future where little Clarks and Melodys would run around, looking for clues from Santa. But this year was noticeably absent of any kind of suggestion that one day I might be responsible for children. Considering I barely had enough money to get my family gifts, I can understand why.

  But today starts the first day on the path to making rent. My Finland gig is officially underway. The gig that I will give 200% into because it saved me from an early and forced retirement from music. Of course, I wouldn’t give up on my music career because of one asshole. In fact, I wouldn’t give up on my music career even if I was 90-years-old and tone deaf. But the reality is, I need money.

  Once I learned this gig isn’t a scam, I became even more excited about the opportunity to come to a country I’ve never been and stay in a fancy hotel. Apparently the booker had seen one of my Brooklyn shows and then checked out my YouTube channel and thought I had the perfect vibe for the opening of this hotel.

  Now, after a trip so long that I’m pretty sure I can classify it as torture, I finally arrive at the hotel and wonder what exactly they saw in my vibe that they found to be perfect. The place is luxurious, decadent, and expensive. Three things I am not.

  Even in the pitch black, it’s clear that the hotel is beautiful from the outside. It has modern lines that are balanced by wood and slate building materials.

  I pass through the glass door to the opening of the lobby, which has marble floors, copper fixtures, and smells like lemongrass. I read online that this is only one part of the hotel. There is this large main building and then there are glass “igloo” cabins that are spread throughout the grounds for aurora watching. I probably won’t see any of those cabins throughout my stay, as they are the luxury rooms and the price tag listed on their website for one night could feed me for a year.

  I step further into the lobby and look around, a little lost, until I am greeted by a smiling blonde girl at the front desk.

  “Tervetuloa!” she says enthusiastically.

  “Uh,” I blink at her, still bleary from the flight. “That means ‘welcome’ right?” I tried to brush up on basic Finnish phrases on the plane ride and gave up after reading ‘nice to meet you’ is approximately 1,000 letters long and I’m pretty sure all vowels.

  “Impressive,” she responds with a smile. “That’s more Finnish than most people know. How can I help you?”

  “I’m here as a performer. My name is Melody Greco.”

  “Of course! I thought so. Welcome to Puro Hotel, Melody. We’re so excited to have you. We even watched some of your YouTube videos. I absolutely loved your cover of ‘Blank Space’.”

  I love this girl already. Being recognized by a stranger for my music has happened, well, never.

  “You really know how to butter a girl up. I’ll be sure to play that then if you come to see me perform. What’s your name?”

  “Oh, I apologize.” She says as she comes out from behind the counter. “My name is Lumi. It means snow. As if there isn’t enough here already.” She says with a laugh. What an awesome name.

  She extends her hand, and I take it. She seems younger than me, but not by too much. I am suddenly very grateful to have such a friendly acquaintance in this place on the edge of the world.

  She moves back behind the desk to scan my passport and then hands me over a hotel card key and explains that I have money on it to get meals, snacks, and drinks from the hotel bar and restaurant during my stay. That’s certainly a nice perk.

  But also a little lonely, as I imagine I’ll be eating by myself. I’m okay with spending time alone, but just yesterday I was celebrating Christmas with my family and it feels like the warmth of the holiday was ripped off like a band-aid. I shake the thought away. This is good money and I’m doing what I love. It’s worth it, and there is no sense in wallowing.

  I get ready to navigate towards my room.

  “Hey,” Lumi starts before I walk off. “My shift is done in 20 minutes and I was going to get my staff meal at the restaurant if you want to join?”

  “That would be great,” I sigh in relief. “I can meet you there then?”

  Lumi nods, smiling at my obvious excitement from her invitation.

  Yes, I confirm again with myself. This is going to be a great week. It will be full of music, recovering my bank account, and an added bonus of finally being far enough away from Lucifer De la Roche so he has to stay the hell out of my life.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Melody

  My hotel room is simple but luxurious, draped in cream fabrics with pops of sage and hunter green. The window looks out to pine trees coated in snow that peak open to reveal an icy river, lit by lampposts that line a riverside path so it can be enjoyed even in the dark. And there is certainly no shortage of darkness here in the winter. The Welcome Packet clarified that there’s actually a little less than 3 hours of actual daylight at this time of the year which according to them means all the more opportunity to see the northern lights. Apparently, they’re optimists, just like I’m trying to be and on this particular point- I’m sold. If I see the northern lights, this might quickly become one of the best weeks ever.

  I unpack and hang up some small holiday decorations my mom insisted I take with me even though Christmas is over. I immediately am glad I do. The hotel room is so much more personal with our homemade stars hanging in the windows.

  I freshen up quickly with a quick rinse and a change of clothes and by the time I finish, it’s already time to meet Lumi. I hurry into the elevator and follow the signs until I find the dining area.

  The restaurant has a blazing fire and sturdy wooden candlelit tables spread across the slate floor. The vast space seems to operate as half restaurant and bar, and half common room. Where one half has people dining, the other half looks like a lounge and is full of cozy places for people to sit. There is a family tucked away on a leather couch playing a board game and my heart tugs wondering what my family is doing. Before I can reflect too long over that, I spot Lumi at a table next to a floor-to-ceiling window that looks out to the river.

  Sitting and chatting with Lumi feels natural and easy. I immediately get swept up in asking her all about Finland. She insisted I get the salmon soup when we ordered, and now that it’s in front of me, I decide to trust her completely with all my decisions while I’m here. The soup is absolutely delicious. It’s somehow rich, creamy, and fresh all at the same time. It reminds me of the clam chowder I grew up getting on Long Island but with bright fresh pink pieces of salmon and
fresh dill instead.

  “So, what do you do in your free time, Lumi?” I finally ask after I realize I’ve been so concentrated on ladling this soup into my mouth that I let the conversation drop.

  She laughs. “You know, for Finns it’s not weird to sit with each other in silence. Don’t worry if you would just rather eat your soup. I’m sure you’re starving.”

  I am starving. But I also want to learn about my one and only friend within a 10-hour flight radius.

  “That’s okay. Pleasant conversation makes the food taste better. If that’s even possible.” I say with a smile, before immediately spooning a gigantic piece of buttery potato in my mouth.

  “Well, it’s a little embarrassing, actually.”

  I nod in encouragement. ‘A little embarrassing’ is always a promising start.

  “I also love music. I promise, I didn’t just invite you to stalk you or something like that.”

  I laugh at this. As if I am worried about having super-fans.

  “I promise I don’t think you’re a stalker. I’m pretty sure you have to be famous to be stalked by strangers.”

  “But you are famous! You have thousands of followers! Maybe that’s not a big deal to you, but I’d give up my little brother to get that many views.”

  I both laugh and cringe at this. I laugh at the vision of Lumi handing over a little blonde boy to some music executives, but cringe at the fact that my lack of progress despite my followers has made it all the way across the ocean. She believes what I had also believed, that persistence can make a career. Yet here I am, on the cusp of having to give up my dream forever. I can’t even hide from my career stalemate in the Arctic?

  “Well, I guess I’m just a little lost lately. I’m having trouble getting a solid music career going,” I admit. She should know the reality of this life if she’s interested in it. “But anyway, regarding your music, I would love to hear your stuff if you want to send it to me. Or we can have a jam session or something. I’ll just be here waiting until my shows in the evening, so I’ll have time.”

  She nods with a smile. “I’d love that.”

  I see her eyes dart up quickly to watch something behind me with interest.

  I look at her questioningly.

  “You have some compatriots here,” she explains. “Some fellow Americans. We’ve been calling them the Black Card Crew because they all seem to be ridiculously wealthy. One of the girls is the owner of the hotel. And don’t look now, but the tall, dark-haired guy is Lucien De la Roche. The guy is filthy rich, like billionaire rich, and looks like that. This world isn’t fair sometimes.”

  I drop the soup spoon, splashing white broth everywhere. I couldn’t have heard that right. No, I must be having some kind of episode.

  “I’m sorry, I must have heard you incorrectly. Did you say Lucien De la Roche?” I decide to just get the question out of the way so my heart rate can calm down. My new friend might think I’m out of my mind, hearing things and scared of a big invisible devil who isn’t even here.

  “Yeah! You know of him? There was a big thing in our staff meeting about how we should not slip him any demo material. Apparently, it happens to him a lot.”

  I accidentally inhale the water I took a sip of to calm down and begin coughing like a maniac. My heart races and for a second I feel like I might stop breathing. Is it really possible that this damn man has managed to track me all the way here? What else would be the explanation? Was it De la Roche Records who was behind my booking just to add insult to injury?

  I turn slowly to subtly check out the group that supposedly includes Satan himself but can’t get a good enough glimpse without being obvious.

  I turn back to face Lumi as they walk our way. They’re heading past us toward the fire.

  I trail my eyes on them and I spot the back of a tall, dark-haired figure that twists my stomach into a knot and sends a burst of adrenaline run through me.

  How is this possible?

  Did the universe decide I was being too optimistic and is balancing it out to make me feel like absolute shit again?

  “You okay?” Lumi asks.

  I realize I am fully staring.

  “I… I know him.”

  And at that moment, the man’s eyes dart up at me as if he recognized my voice. As soon as I see him, I recognize it is the same man who made me feel beautiful and hungry under his gaze for one night. But now, seeing him for the first time knowing who he actually is, all I can think about is how this is the man who crushed my dreams, Lucien De la Roche, the head of De la Roche Records.

  The recognition unfolds on his face when we lock eyes and to my surprise he looks just as confused as I am.

  He wastes no time pacing right toward me.

  “Oh yeah, I dare you, Lucifer,” I whisper under my breath.

  I watch him approach with a steely gaze. I resent the way every female eye in the place latches on to him. He doesn’t deserve it. They wouldn’t look at him that way if they knew what kind of man he is. The kind who goes back on their word. The kind who doesn’t give two craps about what’s right, only profit. I wouldn’t have looked at him that way if I had known.

  “Melody,” his gruff and slightly accented voice booms from behind Lumi and she jumps in surprise, looking wide-eyed between the two of us. “Are you stalking me?” His low voice accuses me.

  I stare at him in horror at his audacity and then make a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. I stand up to not seem so small beneath him, but when I do, he still towers over me. I cross my arms indignantly. “Like I would ever willingly be in the same place as you! You’re the one who’s followed me to the middle of the Arctic at the very hotel I’m performing at this week. Why? Is this some sick game?”

  “Wait, you’re performing here?” He says, motioning to the room we’re in.

  I nod yes as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and return to my glare of utter disdain.

  He takes a sigh in resignation. “Come with me,” he commands.

  “Hell no! I’m trying to enjoy dinner and not get fired for reaming you out.”

  “It looks like you’ve enjoyed dinner already,” he motions to my bowl. “Just come with me for one second over there. I think I know what happened.”

  I look at my soup. There are still at least three hot spoonfuls left and I am not about to abandon this delicious creation for this poor excuse of a human.

  “I’m having dinner with my friend right now and I’m going to finish it,” I say with finality.

  He takes a deep and frustrated sigh. “Just as infuriating as the day I met you, I see.”

  I shrug. “Must be why you came all the way to the North Pole to find me.”

  “This isn’t the North Pole, Mel.” He says, clearly proud of himself for using the name I told him not to, instead of being embarrassed for not understanding hyperbole. “I’ll be back,” he says gruffly and marches away from me.

  I don’t even acknowledge his exit while I sit down to take another sip of my soup. As I’m savoring the last moment of my delicious new favorite food, I finally glance up only to see Lumi’s mouth slack and her eyes practically popping out of her head.

  “You just blew off Lucien De la Roche?” she whispers, as if saying Santa Claus isn’t real in a room full of kids.

  “He’s a jerk. Handsome billionaire, or not.”

  Now Lucien is storming back my way with his friend that I recognize from the night we met. I don’t recall his name and we didn’t get a chance to talk very much. He was too busy making out with Ryan, which made me like him at the time, but now he’s nothing but a traitor fraternizing with the other side.

  “Melody, darling,” the friend walks out in front of Lucien and extends his hand. This time I stand up to be polite and Lumi joins me. I pretend not to notice Lucien’s eyes tracing up my body. “I don’t think we formally met, just kind of drunkenly huffed at each other. My name is Cole.” We shake hands and I introduce Lumi.

  Lucien growls,
“and…”

  “And I booked you. You’re very talented and our friend Brooke was looking for entertainment for the official opening here.”

  “Oh!” I say, genuinely surprised. I hadn’t dealt with anyone named Cole, so I suspect it was his secretary I was communicating with. “Well, thank you so much for including me in this. It’s really wonderful to be here.”

  “Oh, it turns out you do have the capacity to be sweet when you want to be,” Lucien says with a grin.

  I don’t acknowledge him, as that seems the wisest course of action.

  “Someone say my name?” A young brunette woman glides over to us. She’s beautiful in an elegant and understated way. Her wealth is apparent immediately but not because she’s glitzy but because everything on her is clearly high quality, from the dewy makeup on her face to the cashmere sweater she’s wearing.

  “Oh, hey Lumi!” She says when she gets close enough to see Lumi standing next to me. I give her credit for knowing someone’s name who works here. In my experience, that’s certainly more than most wealthy people do.

  She extends her hand to me, “I’m Brooke. You must be the amazing Melody that Cole told me about.”

  “Oh, well, I hope to live up to his praise. So, you’re the owner of Puro Hotel?”

  She nods. “Well, yes, of Melo Hotel Group. But these fine gentlemen here are both investors in this project, so you could consider them the owners as well.”

  “You can call me Boss Lucifer, Mel,” Lucien says with a self-satisfied grin.

  Brooke rolls her eyes and I instantly like her even more. “You can call him no such thing. Well, Lucifer, yes. But boss, absolutely not. I would be okay if you didn’t let him so much as slip in a song request.”

  I laugh politely at this and ignore Lucien all together. “Deal”, I say even though all I want to do is use all my breath to rip Lucien apart. Yet, now is not the time. I have to keep some semblance of professionalism.