32. Avery
Avery
W es stays behind to talk to Luca a little longer while I head to the hotel for the night.
The room fills with the sounds of the shower spraying against tile and rustling of clothes as I undress.
As the scolding water runs over me, my fist connects with the wall so hard I’m surprised I don’t shatter any of the small tiles.
Even knowing a part of the truth already, I wasn’t braced for the entirety of what actually happened that night.
How, even when I doubted him, Wes was exactly who I always thought he was. Someone who would show up for the people he cared about, even if it meant losing all of us.
When I get out, Wes’s shoes are by the foot of the bed and the balcony doors are flung wide, a breeze sending a ripple through the curtains.
I wrap myself in a plush white robe before going out to meet him. Barefoot, my toes almost instantly go numb and I don’t know how Wes can bear the frigid air in nothing but a thin shirt and jeans.
“I have to go see her,” he says without turning to look at me, his face tilted up washed in silvery moonlight.
“You don’t. At least not alone.”
“I can handle it. These last few times she took me by surprise, but if I go in prepared, I know I can take care of it. If I don’t, she’ll escalate things until I do.
I don’t want to reach that point again.” He sounds so tired, not just from the day, but from releasing a secret he’s kept at his own expense for over a decade.
“Is there anything I can say to stop you?”
“No, and I can’t let you go with me either.”
We stand for long minutes before going to bed.
He’s restless as he tries to sleep, tossing for hours.
It’s nearly five in the morning by the time he settles.
I slip free of the covers, careful to not make a sound as I find shoes and leave.
If I can’t talk him out of it or be there with him, I’ll find another way to fix this.
He would never let me take this on by myself, so I refuse to let him do this alone.
Kendal opens her door quickly after I knock, headphones slung around her neck. Over her shoulder, I have a clear view of her editing set up.
“Do you have a minute?” I ask.
She rubs her red eyes and steps aside “Yeah, sure.”
“Actually, this might take more than a minute. I need a favor.”
“Of course.” With one hand, she pulls out her desk chair and sits while I settle at the foot of her bed.
“With the documentary you’ve also been compiling old articles, right?”
“Yeah, I’ve been using them as transition pieces, and because of my freelance work I have a few connections at some magazines so I have access to their archives. Is there anything specific you’re wanting to look at?”
“Spring through summer of 2014.” If I’m right, that’s where the evidence will be.
Kendal swivels around, opening up a new application on her laptop.
“Yeah, the bad boy years—or the start of them, at least. This is a tricky area I was hoping to touch base with Wes about, because chronologically some of the events of these articles seem impossible and the cropping of the images are weird too.”
“And what about August?”
She pauses and looks back at me, apprehension dawning on her features. “Avery? What are you really asking right now? Is everything okay with you two?”
“Is there any way to figure out who sold these images? I think—no, I know—there was a smear campaign here. I need to find how they link back to Maddison Barron.” I grow more confident by the minute.
I’ve spent a long time trying to forget it happened then, never quite able to make sense of how the best time of my life could be a lie.
I was so confused that even though I knew exactly how tabloids warped the truth, I let them shape my perception of reality.
If I had only pushed a little harder, this would have all been different.
Now is my chance to atone for that mistake.
“Shit. You’re serious? She’s a big deal, do you want to mess with her?”
“She messed with me first. And I don’t know if you know, but I’m a big deal too.”
“I’ll look and see what I can find.”
As Kendal starts her search, I head out to her balcony and make a call.
“Evelyn’s asleep,” Garrett answers on the second ring.
“Keep it that way. I’m calling because I need to talk to you about writing a contract.”
Satan’s mistress attends 5 a.m. hot Pilates.
But that’s not a problem, I’ve spent the last two days busy at work, only catching a handful of sleep before we flew into LA last night.
Wes stirred for a moment this morning when I slipped out of our room, but due to his own exhaustion he quickly faded back to sleep.
At six, Maddie walks out of the minimalist studio wearing a matching skintight black set with a light jacket thrown over her shoulders. Her eyes are trained on her phone and she has an earbud planted in one ear. When she passes by me on the sidewalk, I fall into step with her.
“Maddie? It’s been so long. You look amazing.” Must be the souls she sucks out of everyone around her. Bet it does wonderful things for the skin.
“Oh, hi, Avery.” She says my name like it’s a fungal infection, looking up for only a moment before her gaze locks back onto her screen. “I don’t have time to chat. I have a meeting to get to.”
“No, you’re free for the next hour before your facial, then you have a video call.
After that, you have brunch with my husband.
I found that last bit out and realized we’ve never really sat down and bonded.
Why don’t we get coffee?” It really was too easy to get her schedule; she probably should look into finding an assistant who doesn’t hate her pompous ass.
“You must be tired. Didn’t you have a show last night in Seattle? How about we schedule another time to meet when you’re well rested and thinking straight?”
“Sorry, that’s my fault for phrasing it as a question. We’re getting coffee. This looks like a cute spot, doesn’t it?” I grab her arm and steer us toward a café with inviting wood accents and shelves of plants.
“Fine,” she shrugs out of my grip and confidently walks in front of me like this was her idea and I’m the one tagging along.
We head inside, order, and sit at a table in the corner. We earn a few glances, but I’m beyond the point of caring. Let people speculate. It doesn’t change a damn thing.
“You have my attention, what do you want?” she asks, swirling her iced latte so the ice clatters together.
I pull out the fresh contract from my bag and slap it onto the table. Garrett put it together in forty-eight hours and assured me that it’s iron clad. “For you to sign this.”
With a look at the first page she cocks a brow, unimpressed. “You want me to give up my rights to my portion of Wesley’s earnings. That’s cute and never going to happen. I made him what he is and the least he can do is show me a little gratitude.”
“And what exactly are you hoping to convince him of later, that he should keep making music?”
“Of course. I’ve told him before that you’re a bad influence, and it seems like that hasn’t changed with age.”
I should win an award for the level of self-control it takes for me to not launch myself over the table and grab her by the throat. “You think he would listen? One meal with you and he’d take back his retirement?”
“I know he will. I could tell the entire world about the little scam you’re running.
The whirlwind romance designed to cover up a fifteen-year-old mistake.
I have a copy of your marriage license to show it.
That man would do anything for you, and you never appreciated him.
You used him then just like you’re using him now.
” The truth laced through her words hits me exactly where she intends it to, and I flinch.
From the soft smile on her lips and casual posture, no doubt she thinks she’s taken control over the situation. A mistake.
“He practically begged me to marry him. But that doesn’t fit your delusions does it.” I lean back in my chair. “You’re taking a pretty big risk. What does Wes value more? The relationship he has with me or our reputations?”
A victorious gleam shines in her eyes. “Not his reputation. Yours.” She takes a slow slip, purposefully drawing out the moment. “He’s made the choice before, so it’s not all that farfetched to assume he’d make the same one again.”
“I know, because he trusts me. I know everything, which was helpful when I went to find these.” I pull the thick folder from my bag and set it next to the contract.
A few of the papers slip free, fanning out onto the wood.
Maddie’s eye twitches, alarm striking through her features for the first time since we’ve sat down.
It’s a flicker, but that’s all I need. “It’s really interesting that you bring up reputations.
Because a little after Wes fired your ass, magazines were sent all of these images and accounts of things he was getting up to at parties. ”
Her gaze narrows, the weight of it causing the air around us to turn stifling. “How did you get these?”
“Last time you played this game, you had more power than we did. That’s no longer the case.
People were more than happy to help me out.
I’m Avery Sloane, after all. Once we went looking, we found that all the images were sent from your IP address at the time,” I share, far more relaxed now that I’ve played my hand.
“The tour is about to end, and I have no problem using my free time to make your life hell. I think I’ll start by telling everyone about the smear campaign you ran against your ex-client.
I doubt many people will want to work with someone like that.
As for the wedding certificate, what do I care?
I’m retiring, and haven’t you been watching the news?
I don’t need your help to ruin my reputation; I can do that on my own. ”
Her teeth clash together, forcing a smile. “What do you want?”
I push the contract forward. “Just sign this.”
“I’ll have to get my lawyer to look at this.”
“No, you won’t. You’ll do it right here. We even went to the trouble of marking where we need your signatures so it should be quick and easy.”
She struggles to get the ink to flow from a ballpoint before scratching it along line after line. Once done, I check that she hasn’t missed any. With the contract securely tucked in my bag, I move to leave and remember one last important thing I need to say.
“You. Stay. Away. From. Him,” I bite out. “Am I clear? If you’re invited somewhere and think he could show up, you better get on a plane and go to a different state. Really, it would probably be best to avoid Tennessee and New York completely. You don’t talk to him or talk about him.”
“I can’t not go to those places. I have work there.”
She thinks that’s inconvenient? Fuck her. It’s the least she can do to make up for all that Wes had to carry on his own. All the years we lost because of her.
“Not anymore, you don’t. At least, if you want to be allowed to work at all. This isn’t a threat. It’s a warning, the only one you’ll get.” I check my phone. “It looks like I have a few hours to kill before my brunch reservation. I guess I should say thank you for picking somewhere with good food.”