Authors: Sharisse Coulter
Jenna stood,
following Mindy through the maze of tables off to a quiet corner near the
stage.
“What’s
going on?” Jenna asked.
“You need to
see this,” Mindy said, pulling a phone from her pocket, pressing play on a video
pre-loaded on the screen.
Jenna looked
on in horror as a montage of video clips of she and Alex flashed in front of
her, first eating and walking together, then her, chest down in the lingerie
she recognized buying on their anniversary. Her heart sank as she saw
Airika
come in, first confronting Jenna, then enjoying a
romantic meal with Alex. Then it sped up, cutting to clips of naked skin, hotel
rooms, pieced together in a flesh orgy, finally showing
Airika
on top of a faceless man with thick dark hair on his arms in a hotel room, then
splayed out, post-coital, tangled in his sheets, nude. It ended with a clip of
Alex sneaking out of his room, then finally onstage, under the lights. The
nauseating blend of romance and tawdriness made it look like a trailer for a
high-budget porn. She looked on in disbelief.
“Why are you
showing me this?” Jenna said.
“Alex asked
me to show you before Mr. Jones did,” Mindy said, gesturing to the mystery man
next to Simon.
“I thought they
couldn’t use the footage?”
“I’ll let
Alex explain, but the long and short of it is that Simon and Mr. Jones are
exploiting a loophole about newsworthiness to use footage without your
permission. Alex thought Frank took care of it but we have yet to hear from
him, and Alex didn’t want you taken off-guard.”
Jenna didn’t
know what to say. She hadn’t heard from Frank yet either, although he was
supposed to be here tonight. She’d assumed Rose McKenna had exaggerated the
scandalous footage, especially since
Rolling
Stone
fired her and killed the story. She staggered back to her table,
looking on in disgust as The Bimbo cackled, her nipple making its long-awaited
escape.
“Let me help you with that.” Jackson Jones said,
leaning in to slide her top back in place.
Jenna tried to stem the nausea and compose
herself, wanting to act normal for Felicity’s sake. Her mind reeled with
questions and she desperately wanted to talk to Alex, but he’d be onstage any
minute.
She no
longer needed to catch a glimpse of his place card to know who he was: Jackson
Jones. She assumed a man who insisted on being an anonymous boss hadn’t
received an invitation to this evening’s event.
So why is he here?
Simon
continued talking to Felicity, and caught a glimpse of Jenna, baring his teeth
in a smile. She tried to wipe the glare off her face to smile, but it came
across as more of a sneer. She took another sip of champagne. She looked around
for Alex, but he was nowhere to be seen. Then she turned back to Simon. He took
off his jacket and hung it around his chair. He rolled up the cuffs on his
shirt. He was sweating.
Good
,
he should sweat
. She thought,
cataloguing all the ways he’d betrayed Alex. She noticed the hair on his
arms—thick and dark.
Before Jenna
could fit all the pieces together conclusively, Anya and Shawn showed up,
bringing along an entourage of industry people, all smiles. Jenna tried to
relax,
there was nothing she could do now.
“Do you
remember that gig in San Francisco?” A tall man in a suit jacket and jeans
(clearly from back in his heyday) with a crazy mop of gray hair was saying.
“When we were supposed to open for Patti Smith and the club wouldn’t let us in
without our passports? We stood in the rain like complete wankers and missed
our set!” His anecdote received loud guffaws and slaps on the back.
Jenna needed
to speak to Frank.
Where is he?
Chapter 65
Backstage,
Mindy briefed Alex on the details of montage sequences, performance order, and
all manner of minutia relating to the minute by minute planning of the night’s
event. Of course, special consideration was being made for the cameras and
commercial breaks, blah, blah,
blah
. He wasn’t paying
attention. He nodded and
hmm’d
at all the right
times, but his mind was a million miles away—or wherever Frank was.
Frank had tried to call earlier, but bad reception
dropped the call before he could find out what was going on. When Alex rang him
back, it went straight to voicemail. He paced the holding area, biting his
nails to the quick.
“Stop
fidgeting!” Mindy commanded, getting his attention. “Have you listened to a
word I’ve said?”
“I have!” He
shouted, immediately regretting it. “Sorry, Min. Really, you don’t need to
worry. It’ll be fine.” He gave a weak smile. She rolled her eyes.
“What’d she
say when you showed her?” he asked.
“Not much. I
think she needs a minute to process.” Mindy said, trying to keep things as
light as possible. She looked down at her clipboard, something else catching
her attention and off she went, chasing a PA, asking about changes to the
teleprompter script. Alex hated making her his messenger but when he saw
Jackson Jones at the table next to Jenna, he’d felt backed into a corner. He’d
had to make sure she heard it from him, not Jackson Jones. He resumed pacing,
and spun around, colliding with Frank, who seemingly materialized in front of
him.
“
Omph
! Sorry!” he said,
then
saw
who it was.
“Alex,” he
said. “Good luck tonight.” Frank clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. Alex
stared at him.
“Frank! What
happened? Did you get my messages? Did you get what you needed from
Airika
?” Alex said.
“No, my
phone was off. And I haven’t spoken to Ms. Thomas. What did I need from her?”
Frank said, bewildered.
Alex
swallowed, in disbelief that he’d fallen for
Airika’s
lies again.
She didn’t call him?
“Have you seen the trailer?” Alex asked. The color
drained from Frank’s face. He shook his head. Alex tipped his head back.
“Jackson Jones just showed me the trailer. Apparently there’s some
newsworthiness loophole that allows him to use footage of Jenna shot in public
spaces. And they can use everything else as long as they don’t show her face. Is
it true, can they do that?”
Jenna saw
Frank walk backstage and turned to Felicity. “I’ll be back in just a minute.”
She followed him around the seating area, toward a long hall that lead
backstage. She saw Frank and Alex talking, and from the looks on their faces,
they were in trouble.
“So?” she
asked, not bothering with pleasantries.
Frank shook
his head. “It doesn’t look good. Our options are limited. We could claim defamation,
but they could release it anyway and wait for us to sue. By then the damage
would already be done. Our best option right now is to hope Ms. Thomas didn’t
sign a waiver and won’t allow her likeness used.”
Jenna didn’t
know what to say. Alex put his arms around her, letting her head sink into his
chest. She would have started bawling if she hadn’t heard the
clickety
clack of high heels getting nearer. She looked up
to see
Airika
striding toward them, flanked by Simon
and Jackson Jones. Jenna gasped and felt Alex’s hands clench into fists.
“
Fitzy
, mate. Sorry I didn’t get back to you the other day.
How’s that contract
workin
’ out for
ya
?” Simon said, eyeing Alex.
“
Airika
, you promised,” Alex said.
Simon cut
him off. “You kids are
gonna
be big stars,” he said, directing his attention to
Airika
and Alex, holding up a document, presumably the waiver in question. “What a
handsome couple you are! No offense, Jenna. You know, just business and all
that.”
“You
wouldn’t,” Jenna said to
Airika
. Despite everything
that lead up to this moment, she would never have imagined
Airika
capable of such evil.
Airika
stared Jenna down, revealing no emotion. She didn’t
get a chance to answer as Simon barreled on. He turned to Alex.
“My job is
to make you money. That’s what I’m doing. The wife and kid thing doesn’t make
money. A famous father-in-law you refuse to collaborate with and this
all-about-the-music purism don’t pay the bills. Scandals pay the rent. Sex pays
off the mortgage. Combine them and you’ve got a fucking empire!”
Alex fumed.
“So you just lied to me? After all these years?”
“All these years of not making my rent, you mean?”
he said, stunning Alex into silence. “Your ball and chain was holding you back.
You were unhappy. Anyone could see that. I did you a favor.” Simon said. “You
should be thanking me. You will be soon.” Alex’s eyes widened and the vein in
his forehead pulsed.
Airika
smiled at Simon. “What’s in it for me?” she
asked, running her finger down his arm.
“Doll, you’ll be a superstar. Women will love to
hate you and men will want to fuck you.
You’ll be on the cover of every magazine, the headline of every news
story. This is your big break. You’ll never need to work again.”
“And if I don’t sign?” she asked,
ever-so-sweetly
. Jenna wanted to puke at her tone. She
didn’t buy that act for a second.
Jackson Jones, who had been quiet until now,
interjected. “You want to consider your options carefully,” he said to
Airika
. “If you do this, it can be as Mr. Walker
described.”
Airika
raised her eyebrows as if to
say
“go on.” He continued, “If you choose not to … I have it
on good authority that your trust fund payments, which I believe afford you a
certain lifestyle, will be suddenly suspended. It would be a shame, no?”
Airika
narrowed her eyes at Jackson Jones. She kept her
mouth shut, motioning for Simon to hand her the paper. “Good girl,” Simon said.
Alex and Jenna looked on, helpless and dumbfounded. Frank shifted from one foot
to the other, like he was standing on hot coals.
“I knew this one wasn’t just a fine piece of ass,”
Simon said, leering. “You should’ve hit that when you had the chance, again.”
Alex stepped around
Airika
and punched Simon, landing with a loud crack across the left cheekbone. Simon
smiled maniacally. “You hit like a girl.”
Airika
chuckled, and threw a right cross, leveling Simon
to the floor.
“Get
off me!” Jackson Jones shouted at the two men in navy blue jackets and caps
that read “FBI.” The one on the right nodded to
Airika
.
As one, they turned to look at her, mouths agape.
“In my head, I was just going to say ‘you’re welcome’, but you all look like
orphaned puppies wondering what that blood on the road is. So let me illuminate
you. Mr. Jones was just arrested by the FBI. His attorney’s office—files,
bills, notes, computers, probably even some lists of
off-shore
bank accounts—are all being seized. I’m not sure if anyone is at Flesh,
Inc. to watch the same thing happen there, but I’d guess there’s security
footage, if you wanted to see it later. Probably the only footage that won’t be
confiscated, actually.”
Airika
looked down at Simon,
nearly impaling him with her stiletto. “See, you thought you were manipulating
me with sex, but you had no idea who you were dealing with. Ira
Stearn
and I go way back. I spent all yesterday afternoon
reminiscing about the good old days with he and my father at the FBI. They were
such good listeners.” She turned to Jenna, Alex and Frank.
“You’re welcome,” she said, stomping off
down the hall and out through the emergency exit.
Jenna and Alex stared at each other, not sure what
to say.
“Two minute warning!” Mindy shouted from around
the corner. Alex stepped over Simon’s prostrate body. “You’re fired,” he said
and kissed his wife.
Alex stepped into the spotlight, and up to the
podium. He looked out at the audience, full of musicians, managers, producers,
friends and family. He smiled. The teleprompter sprang up with introductory
dialogue. He ignored it.
“I am honored to be here, presenting my
father-in-law with this prestigious honor. I know I’m supposed to give a big
speech right now listing his many, many accomplishments and detailing his
legacy to the world of music—which itself could take up the allotted
time. Instead, with his permission, I’d like to invite him up here to perform a
song with me.”
He could
barely see Shawn’s face in the audience, but knew that he was smiling that
cheeky smile of his. Shawn had pushed for them to perform together for so many
years, and even after co-writing a song that Alex loved, he’d resisted.
He may have
been
thick-headed
, but Alex finally figured it out. Or
at least he hoped he had. Music was about having fun and expressing something
real. Nothing was more real than family, and tonight seemed like the right time
to enjoy his.