The Redemption(50)

I turn on the TV and fall asleep after watching three Friends episodes in a row.





The next morning, I head downstairs to the coffee stand in the lobby. I’m waiting behind three other people desperately in need of caffeine like me. The one at the front can’t seem to figure out their cup sizes, so the barista is going through explaining and taking way too long to do so. I check my phone for the fourth time since I have the meeting in less than thirty minutes and at the snail’s rate of this line, I might not get my coffee. That doesn’t bode well for anybody.

“Can I buy you a cup of Joe?”

I recognize the smooth voice before I see him. Turning around, I say, “Make it a latte and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Dex doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t look unhappy to see me either. “You always liked your lattes. Mocha as usual?”

“Yep.” I find myself swaying between my anger from his actions and the traitorous side of me that wants to take his side and let him back in, just a little bit.

“Surprised you’re talking to me.”

“It was only a yep. Don’t get your hopes too high.” I roll my eyes.

“I’ll take one word over the silent treatment.”

When I look up, he has the most sincere smile on his face. He’s hard to resist. “Anyway, I thought you weren’t talking to me after our fight, so we’re even.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Let’s not get too deep. Haven’t had my first cup yet.”

He chuckles lightly. “Maybe later then.”

I shrug and looked toward the baked goods display. “Yeah, maybe later.”

A guy in line starts saying, “Dude… dude. Oh shit. Dude.”

I see him pointing at Dex and Dex instantly tenses, so I offer, “How about I buy you a coffee this time and I’ll see you at the meeting?”

“Deal.” He steps out of line quickly and hurries away before the fan can fully comprehend that he was standing next to greatness.

“Dude,” the guy says again, this time into his phone. “He was right in front of me…”

I finally reach the front of the line and order the coffees. I decide to buy a to-go container for the guys just in case they haven’t had any. When I reach my room, I struggle opening the door with my hands full, but Kaz shows up and helps.

We go inside and I situate the coffee in the living room portion of the suite near the couch. He settles in and closes his eyes. I let him rest. I know how touring tears you down physically, remembering the old days when I toured with Cory.

Everyone arrives on time, some not as happy with the ten o’clock meeting time, but it is what it is. And what it is, is business we must get done. I go over the proposals with them and they decide which ones to move forward on and which ones to eliminate.

As a group, they seem satisfied, so I am. When they leave, I start making calls and getting contracts sent over. I log onto the latest batch of paparazzi photos taken of the band members that their press agent sent over. It’s the usual boring stuff which I like to see. Nothing salacious. Nothing newsworthy in their personal lives. These are the kinds of pics that don’t get bought by tabloids or blogs.

But when I scroll to the fourth page, I see me—me and Chad Spears from our kind-of-sort-of date. Shit! My heart starts pounding and my hands start shaking while I reach for my phone. I immediately call Rory, the band’s public relations agent.

He picks up on the first ring. “I’ve been expecting this phone call.”

“Can you kill the pics?”

“Too late. They were sold to two sites last night. That’s when I found out about them.”

“Make them go away, Rory.” I beg, “Please.”

“Rochelle, you should have given me a heads up. I could have done something then, but now, it’s too late. I’m sorry. I can look into the story they’ll post with it and try to use some tactics to get them to go easy, but it’s Chad Spears. He sells magazines. He gets people clicking online. You being a widow of a famous musician and with him gets even more hits.”

“I can’t… These photos will upset people. Cory’s Mother for one.”

“And Dex.”

The way he says it so casually as if the whole world knows our secret makes me cringe. “What do you know about that?”

“Everything. That story of you kissing at the bar—another time you should have forewarned me.”

“I’m new to this. Cut me some slack.”

“Slacks been cut. Now it’s time to play hardball. I’m gonna send you an email that I usually send my clients when I first bring them on. It’s how to stay out of the headlines when you don’t want to make headlines. I suggest you memorize it if you don’t want the attention. If you do want it, I can help you out there as well, but I’ll need some forewarning next time.”

“I don’t want the attention. How much time do we have before this story comes out?”

“Less than twenty-four hours I would say, but probably closer to an hour. The online blogs are fast with this kind of news and it’s already a few days old.”

Looking out my room window, I stare at a nearby building that’s blocking the sun, casting a shadow over the hotel. Very ominous. Very fitting. I sigh, dropping my head down.