Chapter 56
“ C ar,” I say, surprised to see him as I enter the conference room. He’s wearing the same clothes just like I am from the night Harmony almost drowned. “You look like hell.”
“Yeah, so do you.” He exhales heavily. “It’s been rough.”
“Why are you here?” I haven’t talked to him since I was arrested.
“I wanted to see Harmony, but when I did finally see her, she…” He trails off. Pain flickering in his blue eyes, he gestures. “Boss lady told me to wait in here.”
“Why?” Worry knots my gut. I know that being arrested violates the label’s behavioral clause.
“Have a seat, everyone.” Melinda pulls back the leather chair at the head of the table. We all roll back and sit in various other ones. My old man places himself between War and me. He seems determined to provide a buffer between us. A necessary one. It completely pisses me off that War treats Peace like she’s a disappointment to him.
“Is this band business?” I ask Melinda while eyeing War and Dad with suspicion. “Or is this a personal matter?”
“Band business is personal.” Melinda folds up her wand. “With there being two dads in one band and a son in another one, this meeting is going to tick all the boxes and then some.”
“I have nothing to say with them present.” I push back from the table.
“Stay,” she says softly, and I freeze. “Unless you’re prepared to repay your advance at this time.
“You telling me I have to?” I ask.
“You’re buried beneath a ton of shit right now.” She taps her wand against the table for emphasis. “I need you to settle so we can calmly decide how to handle the situation.”
Reluctantly, I do as I’m told.
“But why are they here?” I jerk my chin at War and my dad.
“This is a storm that’s raining on everyone.” Melinda lays her wand down on the table. “Media is unearthing all the dirt they can find. Drug use, past and present. It’s all bad press for us at the moment.”
“I’m not currently using,” I say in my defense. “Haven’t used for months.” I keep my gaze on Melinda, but I feel everyone looking at me rather than Carson, which is what I want. “And anyway, the assault charge was dropped.” Thankfully before the police discovered I lied to them.
“Yes, but why were they dropped?” Melinda’s blue eyes narrow.
I drop my gaze. “That isn’t for me to say.”
“Why not?” she asks. “Who are you protecting?”
“This has something to do with Peace.” War guesses accurately. “She went to the station and returned with you. Seems suspicious.”
I glance up at him and shrug. In response, his hands that are resting on the table curl into fists.
“You keep dragging my daughter into your shit, Bo.” War’s eyes are nearly identical to Peace’s, but they’re full of condemnation. “If you truly care about her, you should cut her loose.”
My lips flatten. I’ll never admit that I agree with him about anything, but he’s right. I’m no good for his daughter.
“You’ll need to make a statement, Bo.” Melinda picks up her folded wand and twirls it in her grip. “About the perils of drugs and the benefits of sobriety. The assault charge also needs addressing.”
“Mark deserved?—”
“Whether he had it coming is irrelevant,” she cuts me off. “How we handle the damage from here on out is important. That’s why I’ve enrolled you in a twelve-week course for anger management.”
“But we’re on the road,” I protest. “I can’t attend classes.”
“It’s online. I expect you to complete every session before the tour is done.” Her brows draw together. “Getting arrested, you violated the label’s code of conduct. You and Carson missed the tour bus when it departed. We’ll have to fly you to the next stop. We both know you’re months overdue to turn in your next album. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. You’re lucky I don’t cut you.”
“We’re working on new material,” Carson mutters.
“Heard that excuse before and I dismiss it.” She waves a hand. “The heat is on until I get that album.”
Fucking hell. Icy dread fills me. I haven’t come up with anything good since I got sober, haven’t had the motivation or the desire to.
“Done,” I announce with false bravado. I’m sure as fuck not gonna let on in front of my old man or Peace’s that I’m failing at the one thing I’m supposed to be good at. Melinda studies me intently for a long moment. I resist the urge to squirm under her scrutiny. “Anything else you need from me?” I ask her.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” she says, and I brace. “You’re going into a studio downtown tomorrow morning to make a statement for the media. Everyone is going to make a statement.”
“Everyone?” I wonder out loud.
“Your dad,” she replies. “Plus War, Peace, Harmony, and Carson.”
“Keep my daughters out of this.” War frowns.
“Peace has nothing to do with this,” I add my opinion that astonishingly matches his.
“Wrong.” Melinda shakes her head. “This is a family matter. A band is a family. Black Cat is an extended family. And the pushback from what has happened is going to affect everyone.”
“Shaina’s acting career.” War gets where she’s going and exhales heavily.
“Lace.” Dad frowns. “And her new designs.”
“Right.” Melinda nods. “Nothing anyone does if they’re a public figure happens in a vacuum. We need to come out strong against drugs and violence. In fact, I insist upon it. As a label, I own each of your asses.” She casts her unseeing but somehow seeing gaze around the table. “We’re going to present a united front publicly, even if we’re not united privately.”
I slink down into my seat, absorbing everything. Growing up, I overheard stories about Mary Timmons. She was a hard-ass running Black Cat. The guys nicknamed her the ice queen because of her authoritativeness. Obviously, Melinda is going to rule the label and her artists the same way.
“Any objections?” she asks coolly, and breaking under the weight of her authority, we all nod obediently. All hail to the Ice Queen 2.0.