The air left my lungs as I read through the doubt-casting headlines. I made the mistake of reading comments left by the fans on the band’s Facebook page too. People were mean and heartless, and it saddened me.
In the kitchen, Hannah was working on Frank’s lunch. I grabbed a cup of black coffee and retreated to the terrace to call Levi.
“This smells like a major lawsuit,” he shared his theory. “Either your boy is going to drag their ass to court for libel if he had nothing to do with the leak, or they’ll sue him for all the millions he owes them.”
“I think you need to stop watching legal thrillers,” I deadpanned.
“Cass, you don’t have to be an expert to figure out why KBC is going public with this. They’re tired of waiting for Frankie Blade to deliver another three records.”
“Two,” I corrected, but Levi did have a point.
I could understand why the label was pissed off. I’d also be pissed if I were the investor whose investment wasn’t turning a profit. Hall Affinity signed a deal for five albums. Over ten years ago. Frankie Blade was part of the package. Their attempt to replace the singer was shut down by fans and I suspected by Frank’s lawyers too, but my brain struggled to understand all the legal nuances of the music business right now. Artists sued labels. Labels dropped artists.
Isabella was a prime example of how the industry worked. Suits used and spat out people who weren’t deemed worthy products, and Isabella was a new name on the block without a massive following and a disability that, for some reason, certain people saw as a drawback.
Only, Frank wasn’t just any artist. He was my artist. My goddamn lifeline. Anyone trying to cause him any harm, emotionally or physically, became my enemy.
Besides, I needed more coffee to get my thinking cells going.
“Let me call you a little later. I have some ideas for the screening, but I need to get my head in order.”
“Sure. Do you still want to do Bowl N’ Roll?”
“Yes.”
The annual charity event that took place every spring in Calabasas and I were in a there’s a thin line between love and hate type of relationship. I loved the concept. Bowling with celebrities was always fun. But I hated the pretentiousness. I also hated the fact that a lot of the money stayed in the pockets of organizers while they claimed all the proceeds went to local schools to support music programs for youth.
“I can find someone else,” Levi offered, sensing my hesitation.
“No. I’m going. By the way, don’t forget about Ashton’s birthday.”
“How could I? Your brother asked for a Sony a7. Twice.”
“How much is it?”
“It’s two grand for mirrorless.”
“Get out of here! Just give him a Best Buy gift card. Twenty bucks will suffice. My mother and I are already getting him a used car.”
“All right.”
“I’ll talk to you later.”
“Later, alligator.” He hung up.
I stood on the terrace in my PJs, with a cup of coffee in one hand and my phone in the other, and stared at the raging ocean beneath my feet. It was beautifully dangerous, the breathtaking drop that made me dizzy each time I looked down, and I wondered if Frank had chosen to live here because of the adrenaline-evoking view.
I heard the slide of the door and his footsteps as he entered the terrace.
“What’s going on, Frank?” I spun around.
Our eyes met. His face seemed tense, and a shiver zipped down my spine. “Nothing my lawyers can’t handle.” He attempted a smile.
“Is there anything I should know?” I pressed.
“No. Everything’s fine, doll.” He pulled me against the side of his chest.
His wild heartbeat told me he was lying, though. It just wasn’t until two days later that I found out what was really going on.
Later that morning, I left for the Valley to check on my apartment and look at a used Toyota at the small dealership down the street from my gym. Or former gym since I hadn’t been there in weeks.
A Navigator was parked in front of Frank’s house when I returned. And after I got inside, I heard Dante and Johnny’s voices battling for dominance in the office. The door was cracked and the unsettling words slipped out into the living room, ricocheting off the walls like invisible bullets.
The three of them weren’t quite arguing yet, but I felt the growing tension in Dante’s tone as he shot out a muffled string of sentences. The house was still, but the air was full of an electrical charge.
I set my bag on the couch and walked over to the office, stopping outside the door. Restless and full of worry, I couldn’t calm my racing heart as I peeked inside. Frank sat in a chair. Johnny was leaning against the desk, gaze on the floor, arms folded across his chest.
“Why can’t you be upfront with us for once, man?” Dante sounded distressed. He was pacing. I recognized the rapid thumping of his boots against the floor. His frame was out of my line of sight, but occasionally, I could see his hand as he rounded the room.
There was a pause and the distant hum of the ocean that seeped inside through the open terrace filled the void. Finally, Frank spoke, “The answer is no.”
I didn’t know what was going on, but my pulse raged in anticipation of the upcoming disaster. Then it happened. Dante threw out his ultimatum. It was like a trigger pull, deafening and attention-grabbing.
“It's not just you.” His voice shook. “It's the four of us. We all depend on this tour. Our careers, our livelihood. You’re so fucking selfish, you’re ready to drag us all down.”
“It’s the best option considering your condition,” Johnny chimed in. “Your royalties stay the same. Everything stays the same.”
“How is it the same when someone else is going to sing my fucking songs?” Frank half-screamed, and his desperation broke my heart. I felt a tightness in my chest, as if invisible hands were pressing against it.
“It’s that or you’re out!” Dante took over the conversation again. “You’re blind if you still don’t see that this is for your own damn good!”
I swallowed hard to dislodge the rock forming in my throat.
The footsteps moved in my direction. It happened so fast that I didn’t have enough time to react. The office door flung open and a cigarette pack flicked past my eyes as Dante marched out. I felt the accidental brush of his shoulder and the spike of temper consuming the oxygen around me. He clicked his lighter and whirled around. His dark gaze drilled right through me. “This is between me and your boy. Stop fucking eavesdropping, short stuff.”
Blood rushed to my face. “Fuck you, Dante.” My comeback was far from ladylike, but I was too wound up by what I’d just heard to stick to my manners.
He headed for the door to the terrace without a word, shoulders stiff, strides wide and obnoxiously loud. I stood in my spot, angry, left with the horrible aftertaste of loss in my mouth and staring at the empty space in front of me.
“Don’t take it personally, Cassy,” Johnny said from off to the side. “It’s been a stressful week.”
My head snapped up, and he was moving toward me, an apologetic smile touching his lips.
“Sure. Two against one. How fair.” I scoffed.