Rock Star (24 page)

Bryan sighed. He had noted Callie’s water habit also. “So I guess she knows about the story, huh?” He had been hoping against hope that she had somehow missed it, and the whole thing could just blow over without causing too many problems.

Tonya didn’t respond, unwilling to share any more information than she had to. Bryan knew the bookstore schedule as well as she did, and he had to know that Callie would have seen the tabloid first thing that morning.

“Is she very upset?” he asked worriedly.

“I’d hazard a guess that she’s pretty much devastated. I don’t think she wants to talk to you right now. Actually, I don’t think she wants to talk to anybody right now,” Tonya replied coolly.

He had expected no less from Callie’s best friend, and he certainly didn’t deserve anything more. It was barely nine o’clock in Miami. After playing the night before, he and Callie had talked all night and he hadn’t gone to bed until almost five o’clock in the morning. Though he usually slept no more than four hours, performing seemed to increase his requirements. Sleep deprivation certainly wasn’t helping matters any.

It had never occurred to him that he wouldn’t be able to talk to Callie, but that seemed to be exactly what Tonya was telling him.

“Tonya, I know she’s upset, but I didn’t do anything! I don’t know what the hell happened. I can’t believe they attacked her like this!” Bryan explained frantically.

“Look, Bryan, I don’t know if she plans to talk to you. She’s really freaked out. Give her a chance to calm down, okay?”

Bryan sighed heavily. He wanted to talk to Callie, now. “Just tell her, I love her, okay? Will you at least tell her that for me?” he pleaded.

Tonya relented, just a little bit. “I’ll tell her Bryan, but I’ve never seen her like this. I don’t think she’ll be listening. I closed the store,” she added just before she hung up. Tonya knew that Bryan would understand that they would close the store only under the direst circumstances. She wanted him to know how much of an impact this was having on Callie. She felt a certain amount of guilt. After all, she had encouraged Callie to be with Bryan, and this was the catastrophic result. It was vindictive, but she wanted Bryan to experience some of the remorse and despondency she was feeling.

* * *

Bryan flopped back on his bed, wanting to scream with frustration. He couldn’t recall ever having been this infuriated before. He had to get to Callie right away. Everything they had together, the trust he’d worked so hard to build, was being destroyed by that stupid article. But he couldn’t leave now. Storm Crow had to play another show in Miami before moving on to Houston. He was bone-weary of the tour and being without Callie, and now this filth had bubbled up from the very sewers of hell. He wanted to go see about Callie immediately, but leaving now would mean the end of his band. Jon and Twist had forgiven him for his previous transgression, but there was no chance in hell of them being so understanding if he ditched them again.

He pulled his hair into a quick, shaggy ponytail. Getting some help for Callie was crucial. He couldn’t go to Alabama, but maybe B.T. would be able to help out. She would need someone to give her some directions on how to navigate the paparazzi minefield that was sure to be set off by this article. No one was better at that than his manager. B.T. had called him first thing that morning and faxed him a copy of the article. He’d immediately realized the implications and quickly called Callie. From the very beginning he’d tried to be careful to shelter Callie from this type of publicity. But he’d never dreamed she would be attacked with slander so terrible. He was a public figure and fair game in their eyes. Hell, there were even times when they’d courted negative publicity because it was so good for sales. But this…Callie was a private citizen; she should’ve been off limits. At worst, he’d expected a photograph where they referred to her as the “unnamed woman” accompanying him. They’d done it just that way countless times in the past. It was an unspoken rule that in general the tabloids left people alone unless they were in the business. It was inconceivable to him that they would violate her privacy and distort the truth to this degree. This was not the way the game was played. He just didn’t understand it.

He mused on the problem for long moments, and then the answer hit him with all the subtlety of a cruise missile, Chasdity! Of course, she was the “insider” with the information. That evil bitch had gone to the tabloids and used them to attack Callie. Damn! He’d had no idea she was that vindictive. He shook his head. This made no sense; she’d walked out on him! Why did she feel the need to seek revenge? But what about B.T.? They wouldn’t have dared do such a thing without running it past him first.

Bryan propped himself up against the padded headboard and called B.T. back, puzzled by the fact that his usually crafty manager had apparently been caught flat-footed by the story. B.T. had low friends in high places, and very little caught him unawares. When his manager came on the line, Bryan demanded some answers.

“Hell, boy, even the best grapevine breaks down some of the time!”

Something about the statement rang false with Bryan. B.T. bragged all the time that he had a better network than any government agency. He even went so far as to boast that the president called him for intelligence. Though that was probably an exaggeration, it wasn’t much of one. If there had been an actual communication breakdown, B.T. would’ve been the last person in the world to acknowledge it.

He pushed the issue, “Come on, B.T., that’s bullshit, and you know it. You’ve got your finger in every game in town. Hell, you started most of them, so don’t try to play me like that.”

B.T. gave a heavy sigh. “You always were a smart-ass.” This sharp line of questioning was surprising coming from Bryan. Usually he didn’t inquire too closely about this area of the business, finding it distasteful and annoying but a necessary evil. If he told Bryan the truth he would come unglued. He tried to prevaricate and appeal to sentimentality.

“Look, I’ve been with you for fifteen years. Don’t you think I try to take care of you?”

Bryan was on a low simmer. This day was getting worse by the second. He wasn’t where he wanted to be. The walls of the hotel were closing in on him, and his mood was deteriorating rapidly. B.T. was up to no good, adding to his frustration with this attempt to make an end run around the topic by playing on their personal relationship.

Bryan clenched his teeth, holding onto his temper by the barest strand of a thread. “B.T., I just called the woman I love. A woman who just had her world knocked off its foundation by a story. A story that my manager, a man who has a network the CIA would envy, to whom I pay an obscene amount to prevent such things, somehow managed to let slip through the cracks. Cut the crap, B.T., it doesn’t work with me,” he snarled, biting off each sentence with a sharp click of his teeth.

For the first time in many years, B.T.’s thick cornpone accent slipped as he gave an answer that he knew could destroy their very lucrative relationship. “Bryan, I thought it would be easier to let it go this way,” he murmured softly.

Bryan pulled his hair in frustration. “B.T., what the hell are you talking about? Easier than what? Death by a thousand cuts?”

“I just thought it would better for your career if you didn’t get so serious about a black girl,” he mumbled.

Bryan was astounded. He couldn’t believe his manager would say such a thing. “B.T., what in the hell are you talking about?” he asked, enunciating each syllable as if suddenly he doubted who he was talking to. “I don’t believe this is coming out of your mouth. You and Maria had her in your home. What in the hell kind of racist bullshit is this? Don’t you think you’re taking the redneck charade just a bit too far?”

B.T. tried a soothing tone. “Bryan, you just haven’t thought about the impact that dating her might have on your career…”

Bryan snorted, “B.T., try another one. I’ve dated girls of other races before, and you never even noticed. And all you’ve thought about for the past fifteen years is my career; you know damned well you’ve never missed a trick. Try another one!”

B.T. had heard Richard Nixon lament once that unlike Ronald Reagan, he had not been able to plead stupidity. No one would believe for one moment that he had not had total and complete control of everyone in his administration. Nixon was simply too savvy. Apparently he was about to be hoisted on the same petard. There were times when being intelligent and crafty was an outright pain in the ass. People just didn’t understand.

“Okay, okay. I just never thought you were serious about her. Even when you brought her to the house, I thought you were just making nice with Maria. Good God, Bryan, you’ve slept with some of the most beautiful women on the planet! How was I to know that you would lose your mind over a skinny little bookworm from Alabama? She’s a nobody. I thought at the very least you’d go for an actress, even a porn star, but a bookstore owner?” B.T. seemed sincerely perplexed by Bryan’s choices. “So no, honest to God, I didn’t think there was anything to it. Why do you think nobody bothered y’all in L.A.? I got the word out that she was just another flash in the pan, hardly worth noticing.”

Bryan could scarcely believe his ears. He couldn’t believe he’d known this man for fifteen years and didn’t really know him at all.

“B.T., I can’t believe you’re saying this. You have to know me better than this. Callie is not a nobody, she’s the woman I love, and I’ll take her over any porn star or actress,” he growled into the phone. He paused for a moment, contemplating the rest of B.T.’s comments. He’d always known that his manager worked hand in hand with the paparazzi, but he’d had no inkling of just how Byzantine the relationship was. “Okay, okay, as usual you were in bed with them, so what the hell happened?”

B.T. squirmed uneasily in his chair; he hated when Bryan asked these types of questions. Despite his rough reputation, Bryan was really too sensitive for this business. “You and her in Whistler is what happened,” he said defensively. “I send you up there to impress the suits, and you spend your time making goo-goo eyes at each other! Everybody said y’all could’ve set the damned place ablaze on New Year’s Eve. After seeing you together nobody believed that there wasn’t anything going on between you two. It was clear that you were beyond whipped. I couldn’t have stopped the story if I wanted to!” he blustered.

“Did you want to, B.T.?” Bryan asked sadly, seeing his manager’s true character for the first time. He wasn’t naïve. B.T. had always had reptilian tendencies. It was almost impossible to survive in the music industry without them. But he’d always been his snake. When had he turned?

“No,” B.T. admitted begrudgingly, “I didn’t want to stop it. You know how this business is. Every little thing counts against you. Especially right now when I’m trying to re-negotiate your contract, and then there’s the movie deal…”

“Movie deal?” Bryan interjected wearily. They had discussed this so many times. He couldn’t believe the man was still trying to pull this one off. “B.T., I told you a long time ago that I have no intentions of making any movies. What in the hell are you talking about?”

“Yeah, I know you don’t want to make any movies right now, but you never know. You’re a good-looking kid, definitely leading man material. They’ve been sending some really good scripts. It could put you over the top. I get offers for commercials and licensing all the time. I’ve told you again and again that you have to keep all your irons in the fire, and getting serious about a black girl could only screw that up!”

“Screw what up, B.T.? Even if I gave a good goddamn and you know I don’t, plenty of rockers have dated or married black women! Look at David Bowie. He married a black woman, and the man’s a frigging legend. Jagger has a biracial daughter and nobody’s bigger. This is bull, B.T., and you know it! You let your own prejudices derail my relationship.”

“Yeah, he married a black woman, a goddamned supermodel! Did you have enough sense to do that? God knows plenty of them have thrown themselves at you. No, you had to go find some little nobody in Alabama. Sure, you can marry a black supermodel and it might be okay, but then again, you might have to be around for thirty years like Jagger and Bowie. Those guys can do whatever the hell they want. I know it’s hard to believe, but you can’t. No, I couldn’t take that chance, you’ve got a big future ahead of you, and I wasn’t going to watch you wreck it over a woman.”

Bryan’s voice softened. “How quickly you forget, B.T. Do you remember how you felt when Maria’s folks did this to you? They didn’t want any gringos in the family. Remember how that felt?” Maria came from a family of wealthy vintners with an aristocratic lineage going back for generations. They’d done everything in their power to prevent a nobody like B.T. from marrying into the family. All his success had meant nothing to them, as he had no pedigree to speak of. “Remember what you told me, B.T.? Never let anybody or anything come between you and your woman. Do you remember that?”

“Of course I remember that! But this isn’t about me. I’m not a rock star. I don’t have an image to maintain, you do!” B.T. blustered.

Choking with rage, Bryan managed to yell into the phone, “Was that your call to make, B.T.? Was it?”

“I know you, boy. Once you decide you want something, there’s no way to shake it loose out of your head. You wanted this girl, and I didn’t have a chance in hell of talking you out of it. Especially if I started talking about what it would do to your career. The way you’ve been behaving, you act like you don’t give a damn about it anyway. I figured a story like this would do the trick without hurting you or your career too much,” B.T. replied, still trying frantically to explain his behavior. This conversation was going downhill fast, and he saw little opportunity to salvage their relationship.