Outsider (52 page)

“Do
the guys know you’re in charge?” Is that why Steve was so insistent that they
drop their label?

“I’m
not in charge,” he said. “The board of directors is in charge.”

“And
how often do they vote against your wishes?”

“Just
once,” he said. “When I wanted to break your contract and replace you with Peter.
They were too afraid of the legal ramifications. So we thought we’d try other
means to get you to leave, but now I’m glad you stuck to your guns. You’re
solid gold, sweetheart. Sign the contract.”

She
wouldn’t sign that contract for anything now. Even if it promised her
all
of the profits, had every clause written to favor her best interests, and
offered her a million-dollar advance, she still would have turned it down.

“You
can use that for toilet paper.” She slid out of her chair.

“So
you won’t be playing cello onstage anymore?” he said to her back.

Her
heart panged in protest. She loved that she’d found her niche and feared that
if she stopped now, her moment in the spotlight would fade into oblivion and
her music would never again see the light of day. Still, that was a risk she
had to take. “Not if it benefits
you
in any way.”

“It
benefits us all, Miss Elliot. But it mostly benefits Exodus End. If they don’t
get their record sales out of the sewer, it’s only a matter of time before they
fall. Is that what you want for them?”

Of
course she didn’t want that for them, but she was having a hard time buying
that their sales were that bad. She saw the crowds at their sold-out shows. A
band couldn’t have that many devoted fans and fall. It just didn’t add up.

“They’ll
be fine without me,” she said, and as much as it pained her to admit that, she
knew it was true.

“Ah,
well, it’s your career. If you want to throw it away, that’s your decision. If
you see Max, can you send him in to talk to me?”

“Sure.”

She
was lying. Something told her that she should keep Max as far away from this
man as possible. Max believed Sam’s rhetoric, but would he still believe it
once she told them that Mr. Samuel Baily wasn’t only their manager, he was also
CEO of Tradespar West? It mattered less to her now that Sam and his multiple
companies were out to get her and more that he could take down Exodus End. Or
try to. But why would he do that? She was still puzzling over those questions
when she returned to the tour bus. The only two present were Trey and Dare,
still fawning over Malcolm. If they didn’t knock it off, her ovaries were going
to decide a baby was exactly what she needed in her life.

“How
did the negotiations go?” Trey asked.

“Not
well,” she said. “Dare, did you know Sam is the CEO of Tradespar West?”

He
blinked at her and then chuckled. “Is that what he told you?”

“Yes.
He’s behind everything. The contest, Pyre getting off so easy after trying to
kill me, the interactive biography, and the tabloid stuff. Everything.”

“I
highly doubt that, Reagan. He’s just our band manager. When would he have time
to run a conglomerate?”

“He
isn’t around much really,” Reagan said, feeling stupider by the second.

“He
was probably just trying to manipulate you into signing the contract,” Dare
said.

What
Dare said made much more sense than Sam’s claims, but she still wanted to
believe that he was behind it all. Maybe Ethan could do some digging and find
out if Sam really was in charge of Tradespar West. When she had concrete
evidence, she’d warn the rest of the guys. Until then, she’d keep this to
herself. “You won’t tell anyone that I fell for Sam’s teasing, will you?” she
asked Dare.

“Of
course not. He is the king of bullshitting. The man should have been a
politician.”

That
was a scary idea. It was bad enough that he managed a chart-topping band and
even more unsettling that he might run a conglomerate of entertainment businesses
that could make or break any career. More than likely she’d pissed him off
today. And that likely meant that he’d be after her again.

She
wondered what other artillery he had in his arsenal of destruction.

It
was so wonderful to have time off, and even though Reagan had waited anxiously
for Sam’s ax to fall, they’d ended the tour on a high note. Several tabloids
had picked up on
American Inquirer
’s claims of her cheating on her
soon-to-be-husband with her ex-boyfriend, but better-known magazines were
reporting on the upcoming wedding instead. They still hadn’t caught the lowlife
who’d distributed copies outside the arenas, but she was growing a thicker skin
now. The mean things some people said to her didn’t affect her nearly as much
as they had in the beginning. Or perhaps she was just getting better at hiding
her feelings.

She,
Ethan, and Trey were spending a relaxing afternoon poolside at the Mills estate
when an unexpected visitor showed up. Well, she and Trey were relaxing
poolside. Ethan was swimming laps as if he planned to race Michael Phelps in
the near future.

“Do
you ever answer your phone?” Sed asked Trey as he sat on the edge of the lounge
chair beside Trey’s.

“Not
when I’m on vacation. I figured you’d be dealing with last-minute wedding
arrangements until Saturday,” Trey said.

“That’s
why I’m here. I need to ask you a favor.”

“What
is it?” Trey sat up, eager to do Sed’s bidding. Reagan smiled and turned the
page in the biography about Janice Joplin she was reading. Trey was like a
faithful puppy whenever Sed was around. Whatever favor Sed asked, Trey would
oblige.

“The
band that was supposed to play at our reception backed out. They all got food
poisoning or herpes or something.”

“Me
and the guys can stand in,” Trey said. “Eric can sing and—”

“I
don’t want you guys to worry about entertaining other guests. I was hoping you
could ask your brother to convince Exodus End to play.”

“You
want Exodus End to play at your reception?” Reagan asked.

“I’ve
called all over town and every band for hire is already booked. So I started
calling my friends, and they’re all out on tour this summer. Literally everyone
is touring. There’s no one else who can do it.”

“I’ll
do it,” Reagan said.

Sed
bit his lip. “You’re in the wedding party.”

“So
just the guys then?” Reagan said, not feeling insulted, exactly, but definitely
recognizing that she’d never be considered a true part of Exodus End.

“Not
that I wouldn’t want you to play. It’s just that Jessica—”

“Would
kill him,” Trey supplied. Sed nodded.

“This
wedding has to be perfect, or I’m afraid she’s going to lose her mind. She has
every detail involving her wedding party planned out and if I mess it up—”

“She’ll
kill him,” Trey repeated, and Sed nodded again.

“Sounds
fun,” Reagan said. Reagan hadn’t even started planning her wedding to Trey yet.
She didn’t even have a dress picked out.

“So
do you think you can talk Dare into it?” Sed asked Trey.

“Dare?
No problem,” Trey said. “It will be more of a challenge to get the rest of the
guys onboard. They’ll have to rehearse. On their precious days off.”

“If
they’re just playing their regular set list, they won’t have to rehearse,”
Reagan said, setting her book down. She was getting absolutely no reading done.
“I think they know all their songs by heart.”

“They
can’t play their songs. They’ll have to play stuff people can dance to. And our
song. And all the other songs that Jessica picked out months ago. Fuck. Maybe I
should hire a DJ and forget live music.” Sed sighed and raked his hands through
his short hair.

“Let
me figure it out for you,” Trey said. “I’ll try to get a live band—Exodus End
or some other band—but if I can’t get one onboard, I’ll find a perfect
substitute. Let me worry about this. You worry about Jessica making it through the
wedding without needing a straitjacket.”

“You’d
do that for me?” Sed asked.

“Of
course.”

“You’re
the best.” Sed handed him a piece of paper. “Here’s the song list.”

“Hey,
Sed,” Ethan said, reaching for a towel to dry the water coursing from his hard,
tanned body. Reagan was pretty sure he was dripping cold water all over her
legs on purpose, but it felt too refreshing to complain. “What are you doing
here? Trying to escape those last-minute wedding preparations?”

“Shit,
that reminds me,” he said. “I have a favor to ask you too.”

“Me?”
Ethan said, pausing with the towel pressed against his neck.

“Jessica
has been tearing her hair out trying to figure out how to include you in the
wedding. She feels awful that Trey and Reagan are paired up in the wedding
party and you don’t have a role.”

“She
doesn’t have to include me.”

Sed
made a motion of part nod, part head-shake. “Just go with it, please.”

Reagan
was suddenly overjoyed that her wedding would be an impromptu affair. It was
mostly for show anyway. And that show was going to be on the lackluster side.

Ethan
nodded. “Okay. How can I help you?”

“Could
you usher for us? Please? One of my cousins refuses to do it and of course,
that’s somehow my fault.”

“No
problem,” Ethan said.

“Are
you sure you even want this big fancy wedding of yours?” Trey asked with a
laugh. “Both you and Jessica are completely stressed out.”

Sed
blew out a breath. “This will all be over in a few days, and then we can get to
the good part. The honeymoon.” He grinned and looked almost himself for the
first time since he’d arrived.

“That
is
the best part. Where are we going on our honeymoon?” Trey asked,
reaching over to take Reagan’s hand and grabbing Ethan’s as well.

“Europe,”
Ethan said. “When we go back on tour.”

“I
was thinking we should rent a private island for a week,” Trey said. “No one
for miles but the three of us.”

“Yes,
let’s do that,” Reagan said. Then they could love each other with their guards completely
down. It sounded like nirvana to her.

Sed
stood and leaned over to bro-hug Trey and then shake hands with Ethan. “Thanks
for helping out, guys. I have to go find a pair of appropriate socks somewhere.
Whatever that means.” He waved at Reagan and hurried off to complete the next
task on his list.

“Do
you think we should do some planning for our wedding?” Trey asked Reagan.

“Don’t
wanna,” she said.

“Me
neither,” Trey said with a laugh. “Guess I’d better call Dare.”

“You’ll
probably have to bring out the puppy-dog eyes for this one,” Reagan said.
“Better invite him over.”

By
the time Dare arrived, they were sitting around an outdoor table and eating the
delicious salad and sandwiches Gwen had prepared. She was running down a short
guest list for Reagan and Trey’s wedding, as only a few family members and
close friends were attending. The bulk of the invitations were going out to the
media.

Ethan
hadn’t said a word the entire meal. He’d become broodier than ever when his
attempts to discover if Sam Baily was indeed the CEO of Tradespar West had been
met with several layers of creative—and convoluted— business structure. The CEO
was named as the business alias of a limited liability company that was in turn
owned by another LLC partnered with a corporation in Switzerland. Reagan had
begged Ethan to join them today for some playtime when he’d wanted to stay home
and dig for more information. At least that was why she thought he was gloomy.
Maybe he was upset about her marrying Trey.

“So
who should I pick to be my best man?” Trey asked as soon as Dare had stuffed
half a sandwich in his face.

“I’ll
do it,” Dare said midchew. Somehow the man managed to look cool even when he
was talking with his mouth full. “But only if you grovel.”

“I
have someone else in mind.” Trey turned to Ethan. “Would you be willing to
stand beside me as I marry the woman you love?”

Gwen
sucked in a startled breath, but Reagan smiled. Trey had Ethan pinned with one
of his sappy can’t-live-without-you looks, and Reagan knew Ethan wouldn’t
refuse when lost in those eyes.

“Are
you sure you want that?” Ethan asked. “It might make things a little awkward.”

Having
your boyfriend as your best man while you married his and your girlfriend was awkward?
Why would Ethan think that? Reagan snorted at her thoughts. It would be totally
awkward but also perfect.

“You
could be my maid of honor instead,” Reagan said.

“Or,”
Dare said, “he can wear one of those half-tuxedo, half-ball-gown costumes and
be both.”

“I
think I’ll stick to pants,” Ethan said.

“So
that’s a yes?” Trey asked.

“No,”
Ethan said flatly before breaking into a smile. “That’s an
of course
.”

Trey
leaned in to capture Ethan’s mouth in a loving kiss. Reagan expected Ethan to
pull away—both Gwen and Dare were present and Ethan never kissed Trey in front
of anyone besides Reagan—but Ethan pulled him closer and deepened the kiss.

Gwen
squeezed Reagan’s hand. “Do you have a dress picked out?”

“Dress?”
Reagan said flatly. “I don’t have to wear a dress, do I?”

“I’ll
call my friend Sandra. She has a wedding boutique on Rodeo Drive. It usually
takes weeks to get an appointment for a wedding consultation with her, but I’m
sure she’ll make room for us.”

“Rodeo
Drive?” Reagan squeaked, surprised Gwen rubbed elbows with the rich and crusty.
The woman was such a free spirit and earthy, not at all the type of woman Reagan
imagined frequenting Rodeo Drive.

“If
you’d rather shop a thrift store for a secondhand dress—”

“We’ll
try the Rodeo Drive thing first,” Reagan said. Hey, this would be the only
wedding she ever had to half the men she loved, so she might as well get the
dress. There wasn’t time to plan anything truly special.

“I’ll
give Sandra a call. Trey?”

He
was still making out with Ethan, so he didn’t respond.

“Trey!”
Dare said, slapping him hard on the back. “Quit swapping spit at the lunch
table.”

Trey
drew away from Ethan—all glassy eyed with desire—and scowled at his brother.
“What?”

“You
and Ethan need to get fitted for tuxes,” Gwen said. “Today. Have them send the
measurements to some tuxedo rental place in Vegas so they’ll have them ready
when you arrive.”

“Can’t
I just wear the same tux I’m wearing to Sed’s wedding on Saturday?”

Gwen
sighed. “If that’s really what you want to do. Ethan, what do you think is
best?”

Ethan
flushed and stammered, “I-I don’t have a tux yet. Sed just asked me to usher.
Do ushers wear tuxes?”

“Depends
on the wedding. You’ll have to call Sed and ask.”

“Shit,
that reminds me why I made Dare come over,” Trey said, turning to his brother.

“It
wasn’t because you wanted to show me how enthusiastically you make out with
Ethan in your mother’s presence?” Dare paused with a potato chip halfway to his
mouth when Trey turned on the puppy-dog eyes. “Whatever crazy favor you’re
about to ask me for, my answer is no.”

Trey
added his big-brother-I-need-you pout to his expression. “How do you know I’m
going to ask you for something?”

Dare
turned his head to one side and closed his eyes. “Not falling for it.”

“Fine,”
Trey said. “I’ll just ask someone who cares.”

Dare
groaned and squeezed his eyes more tightly closed. “What is it?”

“Sed’s
reception band had to—”

“I’ll
do it,” Dare said. “Put away the kryptonite.”

Reagan
pressed her lips together so she didn’t bust out laughing. So Dare
was
aware that his baby brother’s wishes were his greatest weakness.

“So
you think you can get the guys to agree to play?” Trey asked, nonchalantly
unwrapping a cherry sucker and popping it into his mouth.

“What
guys?” Dare asked, his brow crumpled in confusion.