I’m blown away. “This whole time I thought you destroyed Troy because of how much you loved Isabel.”
Reed scoffs. “No. I would have released that album, despite Troy sleeping with Isabel, if it hadn’t been for those stolen songs. Although, admittedly, I still would have beaten the shit out of him for fucking Isabel.”
I can’t help chuckling. “What happened with that? Did you head out, expressly planning to beat him up? Or was it a spur of the moment thing?”
Reed smiles wickedly. “I went out, specifically to beat his ass. Isabel came to me and told me about Troy’s thievery. And, of course, she made sure I understood she’d acquired the information from Troy while naked in his bed. So, I freaked out, for all the reasons I’ve described, not just about them having sex. All of it. So, I knew C-Bomb was having a party that night. So I headed over there, and beelined to Troy, and beat the hell out of that punk-ass little bitch, just for the sheer pleasure of it.”
I bite my lip. “I guess I’m not the only one who knows how to go ‘Left Eye Lopes’ on someone, eh?”
He winks.
“Troy didn’t tell me about the beating he took at your hands. I guess he didn’t want to come off as weak to the woman he was trying to pick up. He also didn’t tell me about the copyright infringement stuff. He only said you’d ‘blackballed’ him to your ‘powerful friends’ in the industry by telling them a pack of unspecified lies.”
Reed scoffs. “Oh, I blackballed him, all right. But only with the truth. I warned anyone who’d listen, even my rivals at competing labels, to steer clear of Troy because he was a liar and a thief.” He shrugs. “If that’s ‘blackballing’ someone, then so be it. He deserved it.”
“And now he plays every Tuesday and Friday night at Slingers.”
“Yeah, when I saw that place, and the bartender confirmed that’s his regular gig, I admit I was damned happy about it. I hope that little shit never plays a venue bigger than Slingers, as long as he lives.”
“Backstage, at the RCR concert, when you told me you’ve ‘trained’ the guys on your roster not to sleep with anyone you’ve slept with, you were talking about Troy, I presume?”
“Of course. The guys on my roster have all heard the legend of how Reed dumped a guy’s band, and beat his ass, solely for sleeping with his ex. Why should I tell anyone the whole story? The legendary version adds to my mythos as a hard-ass prick. It helps keep everyone in line, in all sorts of ways. Plus, it’s a disgrace I never realized Troy’s songs were stolen in the first place. Believe me, I’m much more careful and knowledgeable about that sort of thing now. But, yeah. For a whole bunch of reasons, I let everyone think I’m just that ruthless.”
I laugh. “I love you so much.”
“Glad to hear it. Because I love you.”
“So...” I say. “There’s something else I want to talk about. Two things I need to come clean about, actually.” I take a deep breath. “Stephanie Moreland. I already had a copy of her complaint when I asked you about her in your kitchen.”
“I know,” he says. “After you got drunk and passed out that night, when I put you to bed, I noticed her complaint sitting in a box at the foot of your bed.”
“Oh, snap.” I wince. “Were you mad?”
“For a split-second. But quickly, I felt nothing but proud of you. I knew you’d been hired to ‘peel my onion.’ And that’s exactly what you were doing.”
Butterflies whoosh into my stomach. God, I love this man. “I hope you know I’d never write about Stephanie in my article about you, any more than I’d write about Troy or Isabel. I only got copies of those three lawsuits—that lease dispute, Stephanie, and Troy—because I was following breadcrumbs. It’s what I do. I can’t help it. But I’ve never once considered writing any sort of exposé on you.”
“I know that. You were smart to follow every breadcrumb, for both professional and personal reasons. The first night I met you, I told you I admire hustlers. And I meant it.”
I beam a huge smile at him. “If you’d snooped a little more into that box, you would have found Troy’s complaint at the bottom.”
Reed shrugs. “I saw Stephanie’s lawsuit on top and didn’t have the stomach to root around further. So, what’s the second thing you feel the need to ‘come clean’ about?”
“Yeah. Uh.” My cheeks blast with heat. “Howard Devlin. I’m investigating him. Hoping to write an article about him for Dig a Little Deeper.”
Reed looks confused. “What’s the nature of your ‘investigation’? You think Howard has committed financial crimes of some sort?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m gunning for Howard Devlin because I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s a serial sexual predator, and that it’s the worst kept secret in Hollywood.”
Reed looks deeply shocked, and I know, in my bones, he has no idea about Howard’s reputation among the women who’ve interacted with him.
I tell him everything I know thus far, told to me by CeeCee, Hannah, and Francesca, fully admitting all my information is based on hearsay. All of it adding up to the same conclusion: Howard Devlin almost certainly regularly harasses and/or assaults women. Sometimes, as part of a “casting couch” scenario. Other times, when he’s not getting what he wants through coercion and manipulation and dangling carrots, he resorts to flat-out roofie-ing his victims.
“CeeCee gave me the green light to pursue my investigation, full steam ahead, this morning. I called her before boarding my flight and told her about my conversations with Francesca and Hannah. So, I’m a full-fledged investigative reporter now, chasing a story. But I want you to know, I’m not doing it to get back at Isabel, or to hurt or humiliate her in any way. She’s irrelevant to my reasons for pursuing this article. But I admit she’ll probably feel humiliated, and most likely want to break her engagement, if I’m successful. But I’m not going to hold back on writing this, simply because Isabel happens to be Howard’s fiancée and your beloved ex-girlfriend.”
“As well you shouldn’t. And, to be clear, I didn’t love her, Georgie. I never fell in love with her. Now that I love you, I know that for sure.”
I touch his cheek. “Do you think Isabel knows about any of those rumors?”
Reed screws up his face. “I can’t imagine she does. We’ve had several conversations about Howard over the years. I used to be annoyed about how obsessed he was with her, and told her so, and she never once said a word about any of this kind of stuff.”
“Well, if that’s the case, then she’s going to get blindsided. People are going to wonder how much she knew, and if she looked the other way, simply because Howard was helping her career. That narrative won’t be a good look for ‘America’s Sweetheart.’”
Reed scrubs the stubble on his chin. “Shit. Maybe I should warn Isabel about him. Or at least, that a potential shit storm is coming her way. I don’t know when she’s planning to marry him, but she can’t go through with it.”
“No, Reed. Please. I’m trusting you by telling you about this article. CeeCee told me not to tell anyone. And she specifically told me not to let Isabel find out about it, because she’s worried Isabel might run to Howard and warn him. And then who knows what Howard might do? What hush money payments he might make to the witnesses I’m going to try to interview?”