A Lush Betrayal (23 page)

I shift in my seat so I can face her better. “Well, I think we could maybe get some shots of him praying before the shows, and the outside of one of the buildings where they hold the AA meetings. I don’t think people will be cruel, Tammy. I think they’ll be impressed. He’s doing so well. He deserves to have people congratulate him.”

“And if he slips up? Then what? All those people who were so impressed abandon him. Criticize him. Say what a fraud he is. That he can’t be saved? No. He doesn’t deserve that.”

It’s the most emotion I’ve seen from Tammy in weeks. There’s a fire in her eyes that hasn’t been there in so long, but it’s almost too intense, even though her voice is calm.

“Can we at least
ask
him?” I say quietly.

She slumps against the seatback. “Yeah. It won’t make any difference anyway,” she whispers.

“What do you mean?”

I see a small tremor go through her. Then she clutches her hands together tightly, as if she’s trying to keep something from getting out, some emotion or thought. “Nothing. It’s fine. Ask him. It’s his recovery. He has to decide.” Her final response is rote, something she’s been told she needs to say and hopefully believes, but I can tell she doesn’t.

She presses a button next to her on the car door and rolls down the window, letting in hot, humid air and the noise of the expressway while also effectively ending any conversation between us.

W
HEN
T
AMMY
and I arrive at the venue, I stop off to talk to a couple of the crew guys who are helping me set up equipment, while Tammy heads onstage. A few minutes later, I walk down the aisle of the theater to climb the stairs to the stage. I can see Tammy and Walsh standing to one side, having what looks like a serious conversation. Walsh is gesturing to the wings and then his watch while Tammy listens, her head down, eyes on the floor. Mike is observing, his eyes moving from Tammy and Walsh to something offstage that I can’t see. Colin is sitting on an amp, his head in his hands.

I climb the stairs until I’m also onstage. Mike sees me and moves my direction. That’s when I get a clear view to the wings on the opposite side. I’m surprised to see Dave standing there with Joss. Dave’s only been to one of the shows all summer, although I know he talks to Joss and Tammy on the phone regularly about local press ops and other promo stuff his office has set up. I’ve emailed him once or twice with some questions about my project, but other than that I haven’t talked to him since we signed the contracts for my job.

Mike strides over, taking his guitar off at the same time. “Hey, Mel,” he says, still darting glances behind him to Joss and Dave. “You want me to buy you a cup of coffee? They’ve got a Starbucks inside the auditorium here and they opened it early just for me.” He winks and puts his hand on my elbow as he tries to move me back to the stairs.

That’s when I hear Joss’s voice. “No. You may
think
you’ve got the right to weigh in on this but you don’t!” he shouts as he stomps back on stage, a very pissed Dave following close behind him.

“Look, there are serious legalities involved here, Joss. As your manager, it’s my job to warn you when I see a fucking train wreck about to happen.”

Joss reaches the center of the stage and stops suddenly as he spots me. Colin follows Joss’s line of sight, stands up too fast, and upends the amp he was seated on. The noise reverberates around the stage area, but no one moves. Something’s not right and it definitely has to do with me.

“Joss?” I ask as I look around at Mike, Colin, Tammy, and Walsh.

Joss spins on his heel and holds up a finger in Dave’s face. I can’t hear what he says, but Dave just gives him a curt nod. Then Joss is striding toward me, his face dark and dangerous. He grabs my hand and literally yanks me after him as we head into the stage wings and down the hallway to his dressing room.

By the time we reach the hallway, I’ve regained my senses and dig in my heels, refusing to be hauled around like a dog on a leash.

I pull hard and extricate my hand from his grip. “What’s going on?” I demand.

He turns and faces me. His expression is hard to define, a mixture of several things, none of them very good. “Can we talk about this in my dressing room?” he grits out.

I stare him down for a minute, my arms crossed and my teeth clenched.

“Please,” he states rather than asks.

“Fine,” I huff out as I march past him and enter his dressing room.

Joss closes the door behind him, even taking the precaution of locking it. I throw myself into one of the director’s chairs that sit along the makeup counter, my body now a mix of anger and fear.

“You going to tell me what the hell is going on?” I ask as Joss leans back against the door, clunking his head on it as he does.

He runs a hand through his hair then pushes off the door and walks over to sit in another chair facing mine.

“Dave is unhappy about the combination of you, me, and a bed,” he states very matter-of-factly.

My stomach lurches a bit, but I grind my teeth to distract myself from the nausea. “What did he say? And how did he know? I mean, I guess it’s not a secret really.”

Joss sighs. “It’s not a secret, but there are only two people who have any reason to talk to Dave. You’re looking at one of them, and you’re related to the other.”

He watches me carefully, I guess to make sure I understand what he’s saying. I do.

“So Tammy told him?”

“Yes.”

“Because she doesn’t want me to see you and this is her way of trying to end it.”

“Yes,” he repeats.

“So Dave thinks what? I mean, he obviously doesn’t have some rule against fraternizing amongst the band and their employees. Tammy and Walsh are engaged for God’s sake.”

“Yeah, well, according to him, that’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because Tammy and Walsh were engaged before she ever started working for us, so she can’t claim sexual harassment. Legally it’s implied that her employment was based on being Walsh’s fiancée, so even if they split up and then we fired her, she wouldn’t have a claim against us.”

“But since I wasn’t dating you when I was hired, Dave thinks I could file some sort of suit?”

“Dave’s full of shit. He’s pissed off because he didn’t know about this and he thinks I should have confessed it all to him when it started.”

He leans forward and takes my hand in his. The look on his face is sheer determination. I can tell he won’t be swayed on this.

“Look, I wanted you to hear about this from me, but it doesn’t matter. You’re our documentarian and you’re my girlfriend. None of that’s going to change unless
you
want it to. Dave will spin himself out and Tammy will have exhausted her last option. I don’t want you to worry about it.”

Then he kisses my knuckles gently, his anger visibly subsiding as he touches me.

“I would never hurt you or the band, Joss. I hope you know that.”

“Of course I know that, baby.” He strokes my hair with his free hand. “The thought never even entered my mind.”

“Is Dave going to be mad at me now?” I ask. “I mean, I really need his reference for future jobs, Joss. Especially with everything that’s going on with my degree.”

“Sweetheart,” he tells me as he stands up and pulls me with him. “You will have all the references you could ever need or want from this. You’re doing a fantastic job, you’re incredibly talented, and Dave isn’t going to punish you like that. I’m pissed at him right now, but he’s a good guy. Solid, you know?”

I nod my head, doubts dancing inside like a whole swarm of moths around a light bulb.

“I’m really sorry, but I’ve got to go back to set up. We’re on in a few hours and there’s a bunch of stuff we need to get squared away. You going to be okay?” I nod again as he pulls me into his arms and kisses the top of my head. “I’ll see you before we go on, right?”

I stand up straighter and try to seem confident. “Yeah, I’ll meet you here.”

“Good.” He kisses me on the lips softly, then strides out the door.

I collapse back onto the chair, close my eyes, and wish it all away. The mess at school, the mess with my sister, the mess with this job. The one constant in all of it is me. I’m obviously the source of the messiness. I seem to create it wherever I go. One bad decision after another, hurting people I care about, hurting myself, destroying my career—well, what would have been my career. Maybe I’ve simply relied on other people to run my life for so long that I’ve never learned how, and I’m wondering if I ever will. At the rate I’m going, I won’t have a life to run soon.

A light knock at the door startles me out of my crushing thoughts. “Come in,” I say.

Dave walks in, his body tense, hands shoved in the front pockets of his narrow khaki pants.

“You got a minute?” he asks as he stands in the middle of the room.

I swallow, feeling the nausea return with a vengeance. “Sure,” I choke out.

He gestures to the chair Joss occupied earlier, and I nod, so he sits.

“I’m sorry that you walked in during all of that,” he grimaces.

“Look, if Joss forced you to come in here—”

“Nope. As a matter of fact, I’m disobeying a direct order from his highness. I was told to stay the hell away from you.”

I can feel my face flush. “I’m so sorry, Dave. He’s trying to protect me, but I know he goes too far. And I also know that I should never have gotten involved with him while the tour was going on. I’m—” I feel my throat thicken with regret. “I’m just sorry.”

“You know I’ve got a daughter nearly as old as you,” Dave says, fingertips steepled under his chin, elbows resting on the chair arms. “She’s a senior at Notre Dame, twenty-two. I got to tell you, Mel, Joss Jamison is not who I’d pick for her. He’s not who I’d pick for you either if I were your dad.”

I nod my head, looking at my lap so I won’t have to meet Dave’s gaze.

“Don’t get me wrong, Joss is a pretty decent guy. He’s incredibly talented and bright and ambitious. But he’s also moody, reclusive, and highly unpredictable. And he’s too old for you, Mel. Even though the actual numbers don’t show it, he’s too old for you.”

I look up at him, seeing a face full of fatherly concern.

“Are you going to fire me?” I ask, cutting to the chase.

He watches me for a minute before he gives himself a little shake and sits up straighter. “No, I’m not going to fire you. But I am going to tell you that if you’d been just any unknown twenty-four-year-old we’d hired to do this project I’d be sending you on your way at this point. Of course I would have also given you some pretty firm rules about getting involved with the band before you started the job. I didn’t give you that speech because you’ve known these guys since you were a kid and you’re here with your sister and Walsh. Frankly I didn’t think I
needed
to give you those rules. Guess I was wrong about that.”

I feel the tears burning at the back of my eyes. I’m ashamed, I’m mad, and I’m scared. If Dave gives me an ultimatum, I’m not sure I can give up Joss for the job. It’s already too late. I have to admit, to myself anyway, that I’m in love with him, and if I lose him it will wreak havoc on my heart.

“Look, Mel, I’d strongly suggest you table this thing with Joss until the tour’s over. If you’re both still interested after everyone’s back in Portland, then do what you will, but for the next few months you should end this before things get any more dicey than they already are.”

I nod once again, too upset to speak.

“And since I’m here, I’d like to see what pictures you’ve got so far. Meet me in thirty minutes in the green room?”

I clear my throat and look anywhere but in Dave’s eye. “Sure. I’ll go grab my laptop.”

He gives me a curt nod, stands up, and moves to the door. As his hand rests on the knob, his back to me, he speaks one last time. “These guys have what it takes to be the band of a generation, Mel. It’s my job to make sure nothing and no one endangers that. It’s not personal. I think you’ve got a bright future in photography, and you seem like a nice young woman. But there’s a lot more riding on all of this than your feelings, or even Joss’s. I’ll see you in thirty.”

With that, he walks out, shutting the door behind him as I finally break down, feeling like my whole world has been ripped to pieces in one short afternoon.

Joss

I
T’S FIVE
minutes before the show and I’m waiting in my dressing room for Mel. The guy who never had a preshow routine now has one. I meet Mel in my dressing room, we walk hand in hand to the stage, and I set her up in her seat, give her a kiss, and go on. I’ve gotten used to it. I like it. Where the hell is she?

When Walsh finally sticks his head in three minutes before the show’s supposed to start, I’m pacing up and down, sick with worry.

“Hey, bro, what the hell are you doing?” he asks. “We’ve got to get out there.”

I stop my lap around the room and look at him for a minute. “Have you seen Mel?”

“I don’t know, man. She’s around somewhere. On the catwalk maybe. She’s getting some new angles for shots tonight. Joss, dude, we’ve really got to go.”