Chapter Nine
Yawning, I clutched my cup of coffee and made my way to my front porch. Drew and I had talked and kissed and found ways around his injuries to pleasure each other until just a couple hours ago. He was still sleeping, but creature of habit I was, I still woke up early despite so little sleep.
One of the reasons I’d bought this house was because I could sit outside and watch the sunrise, it’s warm rays spreading outward like an early morning hug. I was a little later than usual, and the sun was already peeping over the horizon when I opened my front door and took one step out. I was suddenly assaulted by bright flashes and loud voices.
“It’s her! Ms. Harrington, is it true you’re hiding Drew Davisson? Is it true he’s so crippled he’ll never perform again?”
“Emma, any comments on how you’re being accused of using him to further your career?”
“Emma, is it true the band broke up? Why is Drew here instead of with his band? Are you the reason they broke up?”
“How bad are Drew’s injuries? Is there any truth to the rumor that the accident was his fault?”
“Do you feel bad because you broke up his relationship with his girlfriend? Are you really having his baby?”
What the hell? Unable to see anything but the colored spots in my eyes, I remained frozen in place. I was completely caught off guard and confused by what was happening. Suddenly, I was stumbling backward through the door, which was slammed shut. Strong arms caught me and held me close to a warm chest.
“What was that?” I mumbled.
“Paparazzi.” Drew’s voice was about as cold as I’d ever heard it. He led me to the couch. “Don’t worry; I’ll handle them.” He disappeared into my bedroom.
I trailed after him. He swiped his phone from the bedside table and punched some numbers. “Carson, want to tell me what the fuck is going on and why there are fucking reporters chasing down Emma?” Carson was the PR director assigned to the band. He listened intently, his face blanching as he ran a hand through his hair.
“What? What’s he saying?” Drew put his finger to his lips.
My phone sounded from my side of the bed. “Rose? Why are you calling so early?”
“I can’t believe those assholes!”
“Who?” She couldn’t have known about our early morning experience. I headed back out to my living room, so I didn’t disturb Drew.
“I mean, I know the tabloids can be cruel and stupid, but this? You should sue them.”
“Rose, what are you talking about?”
“Oh, damn. You haven’t already checked out the headlines today?”
“Uh, no. I just got up a few minutes ago, then there was —”
“Wait, you just got up? I thought you were always up by like zero-too-damn-early o’clock or whatever the hell time the military uses. Wait, it’s still that hour. Why the hell am I up?”
I snorted. “I was up late and slept in a little.”
“You slept in? Wait, are you sick? Or,” I could almost hear her wheels spinning, “you were up doing Drew. That’s it, isn’t it! You two were doing the horizontal tango, weren’t you?”
My eyes rolled to the top of my head, but I didn’t deny it.
“Holy cow! You guys are back together, aren’t you?”
“We still have to figure some things out, but it’s going well.”
“Oh, Emma. I’m happy for you. Did he explain what happened the last time you saw him?”
“Yes. It’s too much to go into now. But it seems we have a new problem. Somehow the press found out Drew’s here. He’s on the phone now trying to figure out what’s going on.”
“Shit. I forgot that’s why I called in the first place. Some of the social blogs posted last night about you guys. They mentioned you by name.”
I ran to my computer and googled “Southern Pleasure.” There it was - stories of the accident and rumors about my relationship with Drew. Many quoted ‘a close friend’ as their source.
“I gotta go,” I said to Rose and hung up before she could say anything more. I skimmed page after page of the mostly false news. The only thing they’d gotten right was that the band was in an accident.
“Don’t read those.” Drew’s hand reached over my shoulder and shut the lid to my laptop. “They’ll only drive you crazy, and we don’t need any more crazy. We know the truth.”
I stood and snuggled him. “Did you find out who was behind this?”
He held me quietly for a minute. “No, it could be anyone, including any number of hospital staff. I guess we’re lucky it held off this long. Carlos is going to talk to Lauren about getting security posted, so at least you won’t be assaulted walking out your front door. I’m so sorry for that.”
I hated hearing Lauren’s name, but for now, she was still acting as the band’s manager. At least we could use Carson as a go-between rather than dealing with her directly. “It was shocking, but it’s not your fault.”
He stared at me. “You’re taking this well.”
I shrugged. “I think I’ve hit a saturation point, so things are kind of just bouncing off me.”
“I’ll fix this, I promise.” His voice was fierce, even as his eyes crinkled with worry.
I clasped his arms. “I know. I believe you.”
A couple of hours later, he was sitting at the kitchen table working on some lyrics, his hair still damp after the shower we’d taken together. He’d winked and said he was feeling “inspired.”
I picked up the photo albums he’d had out the night before to put them away. But before I did, I flipped through a couple of pages of the one filled with early pictures of us. Although they weren’t professional, I’d still managed to capture some great shots. There were a bunch of the guys being goofy, sweet ones of Drew and me, and several of the guys playing together. I sat on the couch, wanting to do as Drew requested and to remember these moments. It wasn’t hard to be catapulted down memory lane.
As I neared the last pages, there were a few pictures of the band performing on stage. I smiled. That was the concert that launched their career. That was the time Lauren had introduced herself and said she’d been watching them for a while and wanted to arrange for them to record a single track that she could take back to Empire Music, one of the largest record labels in the country.
I wrinkled my nose as I saw a picture of her talking to the band members. There were a few more candid shots of all of them playing, including a few that captured Lauren standing on the floor near the stage watching them. I started to snap the book shut; then I noticed something in one of the pictures. There was a man standing close to Lauren, but his face was partially blocked by her body. Urgently, I scanned the rest of the pictures, searching for the mystery man. I found him in the last picture.
I called Drew over. “Do you know who this is?” I pointed to the image.
He glimpsed at the photo. “No. Should I?”
I flipped back a page. “That’s the same man here with Lauren, right? Same shirt pattern and all, right?”
“Yeah, so? What are you getting at? So some dude came with Lauren to the concert. He was probably an assistant of some kind. Maybe another manager.”
“No. That’s Paulo Santiago.”
“Who?”
“That’s my photography mentor. That’s the man who sought me out to go to Thailand with him.”
“Really? That’s an odd coincidence.”
I bit my lip. “What if it’s not just a coincidence?”
“What do you mean?”
I tapped my finger against my lips, my mind whirling with thoughts. “Hold on,” I said as I grabbed my cell phone. I put the phone on speaker, so Drew could hear. Seconds later, a familiar voice answered.
“Emma! How lovely to hear from you? How’s one of my favorite graduates?” I couldn’t hold back the smile as I heard the fondness in Chloe Sterbin’s greeting. She’d been one of my favorite professors at Rhode Island School of Design where I’d studied photography.
After a few more pleasantries, I got to the point. “I was wondering if you knew how Paulo got my name for the fellowship?” I glanced at Drew, who was staring back with a furrowed brow.
“Well, let me think. I remember being surprised that he asked for you. No offense dear, you’re quite talented, but you were still fairly green. He only works with more experienced photographers, and he’s usually very picky about choosing them. But he knew he wanted you right away. He said you came highly recommended from someone you both knew, Maureen, maybe? Something that sounded like that.”
“Could it have been Lauren?”
“Yes, that sounds right. I think it was a Lauren somebody. I do remember she worked in the music industry.”
I mouthed, “Bingo” to Drew. To Chloe I said, “Yes, I know Lauren. I didn’t realize she also knew Paulo. He never mentioned her to me.” Drew’s eyes grew bigger as he realized what implications this information had.
“Hmm. Well, Paulo’s kind of temperamental, so who knows with him?” She laughed. “Why all the questions now?”
I thought fast. “Well, as you know, he helped to launch my career, so I thought I should thank whoever referred me to him. I’m so glad he listened and gave me a chance.” That part was true. Lauren probably thought he’d hate me and make my life miserable on top of the devastation she’d caused with my relationship with Drew. Paulo was well known as an excellent, but hard to get along with, journalist. But for whatever reason, maybe because I never complained, maybe because he liked my ideas, but certainly because he admired the photos I’d taken, he’d loved me. In exchange, he’d taken me under his wing and mentored me. He’d been devastated when I’d been hurt, and he’d used all his connections to get me the best care possible.
“I suspect he’ll be contacting you again soon for another assignment I recently heard about. In the meantime, I think it’s nice that you want to reach out to Lauren. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. I guess in a way, you owe her.” Chloe laughed.
I smiled smugly. “Oh, I owe her one, for sure.”
After I hung up with Chloe, I eyed Drew. He crossed his arms. “Un-fucking-believable. Why would she stoop to such levels?”
“Because she thought I was a roadblock to your success, and you were the ticket to hers.”
“I think I have some phone calls to make now.”