Charcoal Notes

By Grace Harper

Ultimate Friends to Lovers Novel

There was a time when Sebastian Wild had the music world eating out of his hands. Rock band, Fragile were at their height of fame when they gave it all up.

It seemed a good idea when Sebastian started Red & Black record label with his best friend, Alex Devlin. Sebastian was over the moon when Tara Adkins agreed to come on board to spearhead the marketing.

Sweet, innocent Tara. He knew her life choices and had no problem marrying her before he could take her to bed.

The problem? She was his best friend and only saw him as a rock star man whore.

Tara Adkins had been in lust with Sebastian for too many years. Lust had moved to love when she started working at Red & Black record label. The handsome, sexy rock star had her heart racing every time he walked into her office.

The problem? She wished she’d never told him about her rules of love. Date, marry then have sex. He was her best friend and only saw her as an innocent woman who was too buttoned up to let her wild side show.

Sebastian and Tara embark on a passionate journey, attempting to prove to each other that it only matters what they think about their relationship, not the public or his parents. Neither believes they are good enough for marriage.

Sebastian thought he had won her heart until Valentino, the devious, handsome Italian tries to lure Tara away.

Will Valentino beat Sebastian to marry Tara or will Tara listen to Sebastian’s parents and believe she is just another groupie to fall for the rock star?

Find out in the new series of Brighton’s latest record label that every musician wants to be signed to.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Grace Harper
• Release date: May 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370867691

Grace Harper

British author who loves to write about strong women and handsome men. She writes steamy romance novels that will warm your heart. Writer of the Brodie Saga and the Geary Series, Grace immerses you in stories of love, or rather, love's pursuit to bring together two people who were meant for each other. It's not always quick or easy but it will happen eventually. When Grace is not writing, she can be found mooching about in stationery stores. Grace might have a Maltesers addiction but is not ready to stand up and own that just yet. Sign up to Grace's newsletter: http://eepurl.com/5-eXX Like Grace at Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/GraceHarperR... Follow Grace on Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorGHarper Visit Grace's Website: https://authorgraceharper.wordpress.com/

Book preview

1

Seb

Leaning against the wall, opposite the boardroom, I scrunched my hands into fists. Grumbling in the silence of the corridor, I watched Tara Adkins slap down booklets at each chair setting. This would be the first executive meeting we’d had without our best friends, Erin and Alex Devlin.

The four of us owned Red & Black record label.

In the beginning, when Red & Black came to life, it was just Alex and me. Then the girls joined. We had already named the label after Erin and Tara long before they came on board as joint owners. Alex chose red for his wife’s hair colour, and I wanted black because that’s the colour Tara always wore.

Tara was not my wife.

Yet.

Erin and Alex left for their honeymoon three days ago after a lavish wedding. I didn’t know how long they would be away, so in the meantime, Tara and I were in charge. This may or may not be best for Red & Black. Erin was the business genius and ran Red & Black with an iron fist. Alex was the calm peacemaker until someone pissed him off and then he was Mr Mean. Tara organised us to the point of clockwork and I, well, I wasn’t sure how I fitted in at the label.

I looked for new musicians.

I used to be Sebastian Wild, the lead singer of the biggest selling rock band in music history books. Along with my bandmates Alex, Eddie and Jacob. These days I was Seb, a boss with no title, at the helm of a record label.

The black folders continued to slap against the glass boardroom table with a little more force than was necessary. When I left her last night, she was in a great mood, today something was vexing Tara. I loved the ire in her demeanour when she was angry. It was satisfying to wind her up to where she hissed her words at me. There was a point where it was a complete turn on to see the fire and passion spark from her entire body.

How long do I have to watch you mooning over Tara? Tom Boone asked me.

As usual, I didn’t hear Tom arrive. He was stealthy in his approach. For a large man, he was light-footed. As an ex-military man, it didn’t surprise me that Tom arrived by magic, it always made me jump out of my fucking skin. What irritated me the most was that he chuckled every time I showed my fright.

Jesus, Tom, stomp along the corridor to announce your arrival. I wouldn’t have a heart attack every time you show up if you did.

I clutched my heart, placing the flat of my palm on my shirt.

If you weren’t so love-struck, you would have heard me coming, Tom said.

He was full on laughing, trying to catch his breath.

So what’s the plan to seduce Tara? Do you have one? Tom asked.

Then Tom switched to a serious version. I felt like he was my dad asking about my intentions. I guessed that we were of similar age, but he still could be a disapproving father with one question. Not that I knew his age. Tom and Erin had been like family to each other for as long as I’d known her. Erin trusted Tom with her life and had to in the past on several occasions. Tom took his duty to take care of anyone Erin loved without exception. Tara was Erin’s best friend, which trumped my friendship, regardless that we’d known each other for the same time.

No. I’ve no clue how to get Tara to be my girlfriend. That woman is a goddess, and I’m in love with her. It hurts just to look at her. Terror grips me when I speak to her so much I get palpitations. I’d rather have Tara as a lifelong friend than risk losing her altogether.

It’s a shame that the intelligent woman on the other side of the glass sees you like as a slutty rock star, Tom deadpanned.

I had the pleasure of meeting Tara ten years ago at one of my concerts. In those days we weren’t top billing and didn’t have a dressing room. The first time Tara saw me, I was balls deep inside a stunning blonde model. I didn’t think I was being watched in between the gantry on the side of the stage. To be fair, I wasn’t expecting one of the stage lights to swing down and knock Erin unconscious. Tara gave me a dirty glare and a few choice words for being a slut, and I fell in lust straight away. The exposed delicate wrist from her blouse had me panting.

Tara reminded me now and then about our first meeting. I winced every time. Like an icy wind whipping my face.

Four years after that event I met Tara again. My band, Fragile, had risen to dizzy heights. Far more successful than any of us had imagined. We had the music world eating out of our hands, and Tara still wouldn’t say more than four words to me. What enabled me to get to know her better was my best friend and guitarist in Fragile was in full on romance mode with Tara’s best friend, Erin. That meant I had legitimate reasons for hanging around to spend time with Tara without behaving like a pestering teenager. We played a private gig at Green’s, the venue that Erin owned at the time in the heart of Brighton. It was that night I vowed I wouldn’t touch another woman unless it was Tara Adkins.

She was the one for me. 

Trouble was, Tara wanted to get married before she had sex. And she only knew me as a slut who fucked women at the side of a stage. I had my work cut out and still did.

You could tell her how you feel. Show her your arm, maybe? Tom suggested with a chuckle.

I loved her.

We were at the height of summer, and temperatures were sky high. Like an idiot, I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt. The night before Erin and Alex got married, Roger, our resident tattooist came to ink both the bride and groom. While the happy couple were deciding what they wanted, Roger inked Tara’s name on the underside of my left forearm. It hurt like a motherfucker, but I had to suck it up so that Roger could get the tattoo done while Tara chatted with her friends on the other side of the terrace roof. I’d got the tattoo under wraps before Tara spotted the ink and had worn long sleeves ever since.

That was four days ago, and the tattoo now itched like hell, but I couldn’t do anything about it in Tara’s presence. She would work out I’d had a new tattoo, and would want to see it. She denied it, but she took sneaky glances at my artwork whenever I flashed her my ink. My chest had a dragon tattoo that went below the belt of my jeans. When I stretched in her office, I took a quick peek to see her watching the skin between my t-shirt and waistband. As soon as I relaxed again, she snapped her head away. I stretched more than the average human in her presence. Any scrap of appreciation and I was there like a lap dog.

What a sad fuck I was.

I spent most of my time in Tara’s office. After the wedding, the label closed for a few days for post celebrations, even though the newlyweds were already in France. Alex had left instructions for a three-day party. I was still suffering because Tara fed me too many sambucas.

I’m not showing her the tattoo, wouldn’t want to freak her out until I know how she feels. Valentino is still in town, I’d hoped he had gone back to Italy. Can you believe he called her yesterday? And she took his call. I need to know for sure before I make my move, I said with a sigh.

I was stalling, the right words escaped me. Tara deserved the world on a plate, and I wanted to give it to her.

Tara is not interested in Valentino, Tom said with a side glance. You’ll never know for sure, man, you need to take a risk. For all our sakes, Tom said, banging the back of his head against the wall.

No one was entering the room until we were strong in numbers. Approaching Tara in a foul mood could be a bad move without back up. And Tom was an ex-secret agent. I didn’t know for sure, but we all thought he was because he revealed nothing about himself, was like a ninja and looked like a military machine.

One day Tom, you will stagger and fall for a woman. Then I’ll be pointing and laughing, goading you into making a fool of yourself, I said to him. I hoped that it would happen soon because it was right what they said, misery needed company.

Been there, done that, Tom commented. He was watching Tara walk around the conference table while knocking his head in perfect rhythm to my heartbeat.

Seriously? Did you reveal a piece of information about yourself? I’ve known you six years, and all I know is your name.

Tom remained passive. A tiny shrug lifted his left shoulder.

Well, to be fair you know my current name, Tom said.

He knew how to wind me up. My hands were in the air, exasperated by his nonchalance, and I reacted every time.

Great, so tell me your real name? I asked.

Sorry, classified, Tom answered.

That was Tom’s standard answer to any personal question. It was his usual answer to how he liked his coffee, where he got his tight-fitting t-shirts from, and why didn’t he have any perceivable accent.

You and your James Bond routine, it’s a wonder Her Majesty’s government hasn’t called you back.

I know I was snarky but unrequited love and a hangover did that to a man.

How do you know they haven’t? He replied wearing a smug grin.

Oh fuck off Tom, I give up. Let’s rescue the coffee cups before Tara smashes the saucers with the force she is slamming the cups down on the glass, I said to change the subject.

Tom’s laughter irritated my ears, but it still made me grin. With all of Tom’s bravado, if I needed help, Tom would be the first to protect me. I could hear the other members of the executive team shuffling down the long corridor to the boardroom. In a second or two, they would turn the corner, and head into a war zone if I didn’t sooth Tara’s crazy mood.

I walked into the conference room first, heading towards the coffee machine, which was suffering from Tara abuse. She was stabbing her finger on the button that said black coffee. Her tight pencil skirt drew my eye to her arse. Stifling a groan was hard, but I wasn’t alone, so I sucked it up. She was wearing my favourite black silk blouse that had buttons to the neck at the back, and a bow, tied to the side. I imagined opening those buttons, kissing each inch of her spine. Unwrapping Tara would be a gift I would treasure forever.

Just as soon as I told her how I felt.

Tara today was a walking, talking, 1970s sexy secretary. Her matching black high heels had me aching to rub her feet. Only when I massaged the arch of her dainty feet did I hear her sexy moan.

I needed that moan on a recording.

Still wearing black? Tom asked as he sidled up to her and pulled her wrist away from the offending coffee machine.

Tom switched the plug socket on and held onto her hand until she understood why she couldn’t get the machine to work. I wanted to be holding her hand. The jealousy spiked as I glared at Tom. He pretended not to notice and dropped her hand.

I could say the same about you, Tom. You only ever wear black. Perfect Ninja clothing, Tara replied with a wink.

She sagged against Tom’s body hoping for a cuddle, but Tom stood still until the moment passed. Tara gave up trying to get him to show any emotion for now and pressed the button on the machine with less force than a hammer.

My reasons for wearing black are practical, and habit, yours is a conscious choice, Tom said.

This is true, a decision I regret each day, she mumbled, side-eyeing Tom and me.

Tilting my head to hear her next words, I was rooted to the spot at the edge of the glass conference table, standing helpless while Tom straightened Tara’s mood out.

I’ve made such a big deal of my virtue. I thought I’d have a husband, with babies by the time I was twenty-five. Look at me now, the oldest virgin on the planet stuck wearing black, she said.

All I wanted to do was yell at her to pick me. I’d give her babies, and a good marriage, but I remained mute.

Tom walked away, knowing her speech was a rhetorical conversation, having heard it two dozen times.

I can help you out, with your problem, you know, I said.

Way to go me, Mr Smooth. I cringed at my own words, but she was used to this retort.

The silence ricocheted around the room.

Tara huffed as she prepared the coffee pot for the rest of the team. She drank peppermint tea, so I made myself useful and made it for her while she stomped around the room. Even angry, Tara was beautiful. Three days of hard partying, and she was showing no signs of fatigue.

I’m not the woman for you Seb, not in the vicinity of the woman you need. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t refer to my life choice as a problem you can fix with a quick fuck, she replied.

Ever since her confession a few years ago I’d respected her choice. There were five of us in that van, discussing Tara like she wasn’t there. Tom’s boss, Mickey, was teasing her about which sex positions she liked, and then she blurted out, she wouldn’t know. When Mickey screeched out she was a fucking virgin, I knew, right then, that I would cherish Tara. Her virginity wasn’t a problem, not for me anyway.

I resigned myself that she didn’t think I wasn’t an ideal husband.  Glancing at Tom, who rolled his eyes, shaking his head trying not to laugh, I glared back. Taking the coffee flask that Tara had made, I put it on the tray in the middle of the conference table. The meeting was due to start in the next few minutes. If Erin were here, all the team would have been in the room for the last half an hour. It seemed standards had already slipped.

2

Seb

The others piled in, all shoving each other like school kids, racing to get the best seat in the class.

Why are you so angry today, my sweet lady, I asked Tara as I took the seat next to her.

She turned her upper body to face me, incandescent with fury.

I am not angry, she bellowed.

Tom roared with laughter on the other side of the table. He swiped a bourbon biscuit to munch on while he hid his dying laughter. I pulled my head back from the G-Force strength of her temper. The others muttered among themselves while I tried to read her mind.

Ok, I’m a little stressed, she conceded. Erin runs these meetings. She never has notes, she rattles off what needs to happen for the current month. Orders are issued, then we all file out with what we need to do. I’ve spent the last three days, writing reams of subjects to talk about at this meeting. Trying to cover all aspects of this record label, and I still don’t know what the hell I am supposed to say in the next few minutes.

She hissed the words at me, her eyes darting around the room to see who was listening. No one was, they were far more interested in coffee. Tara deflated in her seat. One more person needed to arrive, Flynn Harding, our new resident producer.

We’ve all been drinking to excess for the last three days, how on earth have you got anything done apart from recovering from the daily hangovers? I asked.

I blinked a few times to work out how she’d done any work at all.

I don’t get hangovers, she announced.

Why didn’t I know this?

What? Flynn questioned as he entered the room just as Tara finished speaking. He was carrying two giant cardboard cutouts, the images obscured from sight. You’ve never had a hangover? You were drinking flaming sambuca shots last night. I still can’t feel my face, and you have no after effects? Flynn grumbled as he hefted the cardboard along the navy blue carpet. Blowing air out of the corner of his mouth, he attempted to move his fringe out of his eyes.

Flynn had only been with us a few weeks and was Becky’s new errand boy. Becky, our receptionist and my romance champion, had given him another intern task. It was all part of her initiation to Red & Black. He was a brilliant musician, and Red & Black was lucky to have Flynn as a producer. I hoped Becky didn’t scare him away. Each task Becky gave him, he took with good grace and humour. Flynn dragged the life-sized cardboard to the end of the room to the two empty chairs. He pulled the chairs away from the table, assembled the images, bending them into three parts. It was only when I could see what was on the other side I laughed.

Nope, no effects. Never have suffered, I don’t know what the fuss is about, Tara said rummaging around in her handbag. When Tara looked up, she was dumbstruck for a moment.

What the fuck are they? She squawked, her hands still deep in her handbag.

Becky told me that Erin thought it would be useful to have a presence in the room even though she was getting a tan in a luxury villa on the Cap d’Antibes. Those were her words, and not mine, I hasten to add.

Flynn arranged Alex and Erin into the chairs. They were the images taken from the time Erin played at the Grammy’s as a guitarist. She surprised the hell out of Alex and me when she strutted on stage, strumming a guitar looking like a rock chick, playing like a demon.

No pressure then, Tara grumbled and glared at the two images of her best friends.

You’re not human, Agnes Winter said from the other side of the conference table.

Agnes joined Red & Black as head of PR. She was on her third coffee before Flynn sat down, looking like hell spat her out.

I bet they were shots of water, and you’re playing a joke on us. It will take weeks to get the alcohol out of my bloodstream, Agnes muttered.

I don’t get hangovers either, Tom said.

Well aren’t you two a match made in heaven, I barked.

Now who’s the angry one, seems we’re both a little testy today, Tara said, breaking into a smile for the first time.

I wonder why that is? Tom mumbled around a third biscuit.

I threw an icy glare at Tom, who ignored it completely.

Let’s get this meeting started, we haven’t got all day to run the label into the ground before Erin gets back, Tara said, shuffling her papers around like a newsreader.

3

Tara

I wished Seb wouldn’t sit so close. I couldn’t concentrate when I could smell his aftershave and feel the heat radiate off him. He was all testosterone. Sexy, smart, handsome rock god. I couldn’t stand to look at his beautiful face for more than a few seconds. I worried my lip with my teeth to make sure he didn’t hear the moan I stifled every time he looked at me. He was my perfect idea of a man, and he knew nothing about my feelings for him. I’d spent the last three days celebrating my best friend walking down the aisle to marry the man of her dreams. I wanted that too. But, the man of my dreams, Sebastian Wild had put me in the friend zone.

I thought with no work pressures, he would relax, and maybe open to having a little fun. Maybe harmless flirting, or a kiss, but no, he backed away every time I got close. The main reason for my lousy mood.

Tom knew why I stomped around the meeting room with frustration. His advice was to tell Seb how I felt. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell I would. Even drunk, Seb didn’t make a move on me. He wanted a sexually confident woman.

And that wasn’t me.

I was in my early thirties, and I hadn’t had sex. I’d been close enough a few times with the men I’d dated. Valentino Armati almost seduced me into the prospect of shedding my clothes. I wanted the cliché, I wanted my happy ever after, I only wanted to have sex with one man.

Sebastian Wild.

Right then, you unruly lot, let’s get this meeting started, I said, channelling my best friend and pretend sister, Erin Devlin.

I looked at her cut out and grinned. She was the best person in the world, and I missed her already. I couldn’t wait for her to return.

Agnes, you’re up first. Who’s on your list this week? I pointed the end of my pen in her direction.

Maverick is going on the road in a few months. I’ve been concentrating on their Instagram feed over the last few days, giving snippets of their rehearsals. The fans are going nuts over the live feed we did of their latest release. I think this tour will skyrocket their album.

Agnes reached for the coffee pot. She tipped it over her cup to only get a few drips. Horrified at the prospect of no coffee, she looked for permission to refill the flask. Startled by her unspoken question, I took the coffee carafe from her and pressed the buttons on the machine while Agnes finished talking about her list of artists. I had a degree, plus a Master’s in marketing and a decade in the industry. Agnes made me look like a novice. I thought I knew a lot about social media, she had the foresight, and I swear a hidden time machine. All the better for the Red & Black label. Agnes was a recent addition to the Red & Black’s family and had fitted in well with the others. There was nothing like a rock star wedding to get a team to bond. Even if it was to compare hangover cures. I discovered her online, writing music blogs about old school rock legends. How the new, budding artists were noting what they did and making a modern twist to achieve success.

Do you see any hitches to Maverick’s tour, anything we should know? I asked as I handed over the coffee flask.

Agnes’ eyes lit up as she grabbed the pot with both hands. I hesitated for a second before I retook my seat, waiting to see if she would drink straight from the flask. Agnes took her coffee black and scolding hot.

Only Casey, he’s more erratic than I had ever seen him while I have worked here these last few months. I suspect he’s hitting the hard stuff, and can’t see a way out. Performing live on tour may distract him enough to ease up, Agnes said. No one in the room was arguing with her. Catching the look of concern on Seb’s face, he would be next to speak.

Seb? I asked.

Alex gave him a final warning the night before the wedding. He told Casey to clean his act up, or we would fire him from the band and drop him from the label. Seb looked at me with a tight smile, he didn’t enjoy saying that at all.

We all adored Casey, but this was business. Erin had suggested that we get him help by sending him to rehab. She offered to pay the bill, but Seb and I indicated that Casey was under control. Now, listening to Agnes, we may have made the wrong decision. Red & Black was far from broke, but we couldn’t afford to cancel a UK tour because the lead singer missed his best friend.

We’ll need a backup plan ready if it goes tits up. I’ll talk to Casey when I get home, see if I can get to the root of the problem. I said.

Settling back in my seat, Seb nudged my elbow with his. You want company for that conversation? He asked me. I shook my head.

I needed to talk to Casey alone. We’d lived together for years. Feeling uncomfortable in his own home was the last thing any of us needed.

Call me if it gets out of hand, he told me and turned his attention to the black folder in front of him.

Ok, next, I said to change the conversation, and lift the depression that had settled in the room. Flynn, what’s going on in your world?

It’s my first month, so I’m still finding my feet. The studio is fantastic, I’m keen to get started on Maverick’s next release, Flynn said and darted his eyes around the table.

He couldn’t look at anyone for more than a second. It was as if he’d forgotten the table was glass, and we could see him wringing his hands on his lap.

Welcome Flynn, we’re thrilled that you joined Red & Black. I think Maverick is coming in this afternoon. You can run through the tracks with them then. If there’s anything you need, just ask. Try not to fall for Becky’s intern tasks. She’s testing you to see if you’re Red & Black worthy. That’s not her role, I warned.

Thank you, Tara, thanks, everyone. I don’t mind Becky with her fetch and carry requests. At least it gets me familiar with all the staff and the massive building. Flynn said to us all and waved. Then, he knocked his coffee cup over and watched wide-eyed as the liquid drifted across the glass, seeping into the three nearest folders I’d slapped down on the table earlier. We all watched, as Tom sighed, grabbed a handful of napkins to mop up the milky liquid.

Ok, time to move on, Tom, what about you? Can you tell us or is it top secret? I asked, keeping half an eye on Flynn, whose face was as red as a tomato.

Don’t be smart, Tara, he said and winked. I’m all yours, I’m not needed in Edinburgh for the foreseeable future, so put me to work.

I gaped at the man. Tom came and went like the Scarlet Pimpernel. I’d call him to invite him over for dinner, and he’d inform me he was in France or Germany or another place, and I’d have only seen him that morning. Tom had a state-of-the-art caravan parked in the woods on Red & Black property. The shiny metal capsule home was where he worked for Mickey and his security firm when he wasn’t in Edinburgh.

Why aren’t you going back to Edinburgh, I thought you were only here for the wedding? I challenged.

Tom gave Erin away at the ceremony. Her parents passed away, so she picked Tom to give her away. They had a bond I couldn’t fathom, one of those connections that wasn’t spoken about, just accepted.  It wasn’t a sexual connection or a family one, a solid devotion I didn’t think would ever be breakable.

Can’t say, classified, he said and dumped the wet coffee napkins in the bin. He’d thrown them ten feet in the air, through a swing lid, and not a drop of coffee was on the bin. The squeak of the spinning lid made a second three sixty revolution as Tom sat back down at the table.

Fine, in that case, I might assign you to Jude North, I said, raising an eyebrow in retaliation to his smart remark.

He glared at me for a split second, then grinned.

Fine, we’ll see how long that lasts. The tiny shrug showed Tom’s challenge.

Be nice, Tom, we need her. She’s turned over a new leaf and has promised to behave. With you looking after her, I have every faith she will be an angel.

Seb snorted next to me, and I elbowed him in the ribs.

What are you doing at the moment? I turned to Seb so I could gaze at his handsome face for work reasons, not for the lustful ones I had. I hoped he didn’t know the difference.

Well, sweet pea, he said, and dragged his finger down my arm. It was over the silk shirt but had the desired effect. He glanced at my breasts and then back to my face with a straight face. I have nothing to do. Which means I can hang out in your office all day today.

Danny. I turned in Danny’s direction to find him stifling a laugh. Clearing my throat, I sat up straighter and asked him the same question I’d asked the rest. I needed to get my erect nipples under control.

I will spend the day in the pub, Danny Jackson said, Agnes groaned at the mere idea of drinking alcohol. There are a few singers I want to check out. With the festival on, the city is overflowing with ridiculous talent. Just need to get there before Quinn swoops in with his false promises.

Sounds good, let’s hope Quinn’s sulking. I heard he disappeared from Brighton on the day of the wedding and hasn’t come back, I said.

How do you know? Seb asked.

People like to talk, Seb, especially those who hate Quinn.

Quinn was the head of a top record label. He fell in