Best Of Everything (8 page)

The hosts of the first radio show are a pair of lame comedians stuck with the post-drive time slot. As I listen to their banter on the radio as we approach the building, I wonder how much of my target audience actually tunes in for these clowns, whose act consists of mainly tired one-liners and wacky sound effects.

“Are these guys for real? I know morticians who are funnier,” I comment.

Ruby rolls her eyes. “Remember, be nice. You’re young, fresh, and innocent. And sweet. You know the answers to all the questions they’re likely to ask. You’ll be fine.”

“Just seems like a big fat waste of time.”

“Well, maybe, but you never know who’s listening, right?”

“Mmm, okay. I already agreed. You don’t need to sell me.”

The pair’s grilling turns out to be about as low stress as any interview I’ve done to date. They ask me about the record, my start on the street, the audition process, working with a star producer. I’m on for twenty minutes, all of it pleasant and relaxed.

The next radio interview is a woman who wants to talk music – influences, my approach to arranging songs, how I pick my tunes, and so on. It’s the kind of one-on-one I enjoy, with someone who actually understands what goes into being a recording artist and all the heavy lifting that takes place behind the scenes. At the end of the slot she asks me to perform a song for her, but I have to beg off – my wrist is still in crap shape and not strong enough to go for a whole song. That transitions into some questions about the accident, which I answer honestly, and I feel a twinge of guilt that I haven’t seen June for a while.

Ruby and I have lunch at a sushi place near the TV studio and then go to the green room for Jesse Silverton’s
The Real Truth
show, which is nothing more than a Jerry Springer rehash, according to Melody, who watches way more television than I do. She has to explain to me what the reference even means, and the sinking feeling I had when I first heard about it intensifies. It’s another host whose audience expects controversy and melodrama, and I reiterate to Ruby that I won’t discuss my personal life.

“We made that clear, Sage. They know the rules,” Ruby assures me, which means nothing. Shows like this thrive on breaking the rules.

The stage manager comes to get me and we approach the sound stage. There’s a ton of applause, the live studio audience coached by a technician in a headset, and then Jesse Silverton introduces me and there’s more clapping. I jog onto the stage, waving, exuding youthful exuberance as I’ve been told to, and she rises to hug me before indicating a seat next to hers. I say hi to the stern-looking African American man in the next chair and offer the audience a big smile with another wave.

“So. Sage! You’re finally here. I’ve been trying to get you on for, like, ever,” the woman says, and I smile again. There’s lie number one, and she’s just getting warmed up. The call to have me on came in last evening.

“It’s great to be here,” I say, a suitably tame response.

“You’re kind of a big deal nowadays, aren’t you?”

I shrug. “I’m so busy in the studio and preparing for my tour, I wouldn’t know.”

Warm applause. I’m relaxing. The audience is on my side.

“That doesn’t leave a lot of time for anything but music, does it?”

I’m not sure where this is going, so I sigh and shake my head. “That’s kinda what I signed up for. Most people don’t realize how much goes into making a record.”

“Hmm. I’ll bet. You know, I heard you on the radio yesterday,” she says, her tone completely fake-friendly. I try not to stiffen, but I’m now on high alert.

“Yeah, I do appearances here and there.”

“Well, that one was a doozy. You basically cut Don Simons to confetti on his show. I wanted to personally give you a high five for that.” Jesse leans over and does exactly that, and the audience goes nuts. “I’ve got a clip queued up for those who missed it. Check it out.”

It’s forty-five seconds of the most painful live interview I’ve ever done, and when it’s over, the crowd gives me a standing ovation. I wonder if they’re going to give me a parade and the keys to the city, but something tells me not to let down my guard, and I know I was right when she goes for the throat in the next sentence.

“So, Sage, what was all that about? I agree it was way over the line, the way he was going after you, but I have to admit I’m curious. I mean, the whole mystery woman with the baby thing is straight out of a soap opera.”

“Like I told Don, I don’t discuss my personal life,” I say, the color rising to my cheeks.

“Right. But that’s kind of a public moment, you have to admit. Will you give us a hint which of the rumors are true?”

When I smile this time, the skin on my face feels tight. “I don’t have time for gossip. People can believe whatever they want. They generally do anyway, right?”

“Can you at least tell us what you were doing in New York?”

“I had some record business to take care of. With the album releasing and the big tour starting soon, there’s a lot going on.”

“Ah, so it wasn’t to see Derek? I mean, you obviously were with him…”

“He had an appearance that night and I went with him. We were a team for the first half of the talent show, if you followed it. I always try to see what he’s up to when I’m on the East Coast.” I’m proud of that little bit of truth mixed in with a shit ton of deflection. I’m about ten seconds from ending the interview, and Jesse must see it in my eyes because she gets back on script.

“So, tell us a little about the new album. When will it be out, and what do you have planned?”

I go into my well-rehearsed pitch, and by the time I’m done, I can tell she knows we’re at a stalemate. She silently concedes defeat and thanks me for coming, and then it’s over and the next guest is being escorted onto the soundstage – a starlet who’s mainly famous for her multiple DUIs and bouts with rehab.

When I get back to the green room, Ruby’s standing, ready to leave. The starlet is on the monitor, assuring Jesse that this time she’s really clean and sober, for a whole ten days. I tune out. “You ready?” I ask.

“Yes. You handled that beautifully, by the way.”

“So much for knowing the rules, huh?”

“You fielded it like a pro. The audience loved you for it.”

I stare at her. “I don’t want to do any more of these, Ruby. The straight-up interviews and the talk shows, sure. But the controversy hounds? I’m out.”

We walk in silence to her car. When we’re both strapped in and the engine’s purring, she turns to me. “I won’t book anymore of these, Sage. I agree. It’s humiliating, and it’s just a matter of time until something blows up in our faces. I want you to know they promised me on a stack of Bibles to stay away from anything personal. So I wasn’t trying to trick you.”

“Amazing. People lie.”

“Well, it’s certainly true that some people’s idea of the truth is…more elastic than others.”

She drops me off at the apartment. I have a few hours to kill before rehearsal, so I call Derek and I’m happy when he picks up.

“I was just thinking of calling you,” he says.

“That’s good, because I’m thinking about calling you every minute of the day.”

“What’s going on?”

“Just got done with some appearances. How about you?”

“Had kind of a rough one so far.” He sounds down.

“Yeah? What happened?”

“I talked to my manager. He suggested I get a paternity test for Jason.”

“Really?”

“Yup. I wasn’t sure, but he talked me into it. So I saw Lisa today and told her I wanted the test done. It, um, didn’t go over so well.”

My eyes narrow and I sit up. “What does that mean?”

“It means she was totally insulted and refused. It got pretty nasty.”

I’ll bet. “Where did you leave it?”

“I told her that if she expected me to pay for our son, I needed to be sure he was mine. That seems totally reasonable to me…but she didn’t see it that way. She turned it into me calling her a slut. Or she tried to. I left it with the test as a condition for me doing anything more – helping her with an apartment, paying her bills.”

“Is she going to do it?”

“I don’t know. She said she’d think about it.”

I feel a flush of hope. “You need to insist, Derek. If it was me in her position, I wouldn’t hesitate. What reason could she have for refusing? The bruised feelings thing only plays for a little while. She’s the one claiming Jason’s your kid. She needs to prove it.”

Derek is quiet for several seconds. “I know. I just feel kind of guilty. I mean, if he is my son, it will seem like I sort of tried to weasel out of my responsibility with the test.”

“What? No way. You’re just trying to do the right thing, and you want to be sure. That’s not anything to be guilty about. It’s smart. Like I said, if I was the one with a child I was claiming was yours, I’d have no problem with a test.” I remember the photos of Lisa from the websites. “Unless…unless I knew there was a chance you weren’t really the father.”

“That’s kind of what I’m thinking. Like maybe, you know…maybe she hasn’t been completely honest about what was going on in her life around that time.”

“Derek, you’re a celebrity now. To someone with nothing, you’re a star. That means you’re a target.”

“You sound like my brother. I just got off the phone with him. He was a hundred percent on the test being a condition.”

“I knew I liked your bro.” I hesitate. “So how long will it take?”

“I’m going to talk to her again tonight. I want to get it done tomorrow. We should know pretty soon afterwards.”

“And if she refuses?”

“Then we can assume he’s not my son, and that’s that.”

“You think she knows he isn’t?”

He sighs. “I think she believes he is, but is afraid there’s a chance he isn’t. She’s already got it in her head that she’s going to be taken care of by me, and so does her mom. If she knows that he could be someone else’s…that’s the only reason to refuse.” He pauses. “We’ll see how it goes.”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know what to think. But like my bro pointed out, it’s not about opinions. This is knowable. I need to be sure.”

There’s so much I want to say, but he sounds tired. Compared to his day, I’ve been chilling at the beach. So I opt for what I’d want to hear if I were him.

“Whichever way it turns out, Derek, I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere. You’re mine.”

I can hear the smile in his voice. “Got the tattoo to prove it.”

“Damn right.”

Chapter 10

Rehearsal goes better tonight, and we redo two more songs. By the time we’re done, I’m way happier than I was last week. The new arrangements seem more personal, more immediate, and I’m again glad for Sebastian’s tuned ear and no-nonsense ability to cut to the chase.

I call him when we’re done to thank him for his observations. He’s finishing up at the studio, which is the only reason he picked up. He’s already started preproduction for another act, without even a day between finishing my project and starting the new one – an eighties hair band that’s banking on a big comeback with this record.

“Thanks again, Sebastian. Your input made all the difference.”

“Everyone needs to hear an outside opinion every now and then. This business will overwhelm you with yes-men if you let it, and the more successful you are, the more you’ll find yourself second-guessing those around you. Just keep it real and you’ll do fine.”

“I was thinking about June today. I haven’t called her in ages. Things have been so crazy…”

“She’s doing better. Up and around. You eaten yet?”

I’m tired. I consider lying, but relent. “No.”

“You want me to call her and see if she’s up to having dinner with us? Something low-key?”

I don’t have any appearances tomorrow, just more BS at the record company. There’s no reason to say no.

“Sure. As long as it’s something quick and it’s no trouble for her.” I glance at my watch. “How’s she doing?”

“You know June. She’s stubborn as a mule. The doctors are amazed at how quickly she’s recovering.”

“It’ll be great to see her. Where do you want to eat?”

“Where else?”

“What time?”

“Half an hour.”

“Cool. See you there.”

I text Melody that I’m having dinner with Sebastian and June, and my phone vibrates thirty seconds later.

“I’m so jealous,” she says.

“It’s just lasagna, Melody.”

“I know. But I still hate you. I wish I was there.”

“Have you talked to him recently?”

“Yesterday.”

I wonder what the two of them could possibly talk about, but don’t ask. Melody turns down the television in the background and returns to the phone. “What’s new with you? Besides being on TV again. I saw that. You totally kept your cool.”

“It was hard. You saw where she was going.”

“Bam! You best back that shit right up. Mama don’t play that.”

I laugh. “Well, it wasn’t quite like that.”

“That’s what I would have said. I would have been all, ‘Mmm mmm. Don’t you dare. I’ll slap the white off your ass. You don’t want me all gangster on you, bitch.’”

“Melody, you’re whiter than she is.” Melody’s half Mexican and all attitude about it.

“Still. You shut her down fast. And the audience ate it up.” She pauses. “Call me after dinner and tell me how he looks.”

“What do you mean? He looks like Sebastian.”

“Just lie to me. Tell me he looks depressed. That he can’t go another day without some a my brown shugah.”

“What happened to miss love ’em and leave ’em?”

“I was young and foolish.”

“And now you’re, what, two weeks older?”

“Oh, so it’s like that, is it? You go to New York and get your groove on and now you know all about it?”

“Um, Melody, I’m older than you. You do remember that, right?”

“I’m rich in experience.”

No argument there. Melody’s got enough to last me several lifetimes.

“I’ll tell him you said hi.” I check the time. “I talked to Derek a little while ago.” I tell her about the paternity test and Lisa’s reaction.

“Ooh. Lying whore.”

I resist the obvious. “It seems like there might be a little doubt there, huh?”