9. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
Mia
I straightened my posture in the plush brown leather chair on the other side of Kenny’s steel desk. Behind me, Pasha stood at the back of the large concrete and glass office that looked out over Nashville. In the five years since I shot to stardom with the label, Kenny rode my coattails all the way to the top floor. He was credited with launching my career. On days when the thought of him didn’t make my skin crawl, I could admit he understood music and had taught me a few things at fifteen that I still took into consideration when I put together an album. Remembering what he taught me always left a bitter taste in my mouth.
The price for his lessons had been more than I wanted to pay. Had I said no to him? Any time I played the sessions back, I couldn’t remember. But I hadn’t said “yes.” Not once had that word crossed my lips.
As if sensing my mood, Mom took my hand, sandwiching it between her own. Mom knew, of course. Not all of what had happened. A shiver ran through me. Not all of it.
“I don’t understand the problem.” He steepled his fingers and leaned across his desk. His dark hair was styled with too much gel. I bet he dyed it jet-black to hide the gray. His midnight eyes were hard. “The label wants this. ”
“And I don’t.” I stared at him, trying to pretend the sight of him didn’t cause the queasiness in my stomach to swell, a cold sweat to break out across my skin.
“You either let this go, or we go to the label about what happened last time you worked with Mia.” Laura’s voice was steely. “The age of consent in Tennessee is eighteen.”
“Did she tell you we slept together?” Kenny chuckled and shook his head. “Mia. Mia. Mia. Why would you lie to your mother?”
“I didn’t lie .” Rage swirled in me. The rest of the words wouldn’t go past my lips. What he’d done was a violation.
“Is that the problem? You wiggled your ass last time, and I didn’t take the bait?” He stared at me. “Now you’re bitter. You pranced around here begging for it. But I never gave it to you.”
Had I flirted with him? Maybe. A little. Thinking of how na?ve I’d been made my chest hurt. I’d been fifteen, new to the business, and he’d seemed attractive for an older man. Charming, even. Harmless. I thought he would be harmless. Now when I looked at him, all I saw was a monster, a man who took advantage of a girl who was too afraid to speak up.
“You gave her something.” Laura snorted. “You can pretend you didn’t do what you did, but we have proof. Documented proof. So, you back the fuck off or we’ll be coming after you and the label in the court of public opinion. We’ve chosen not to ruin you so far, but if you don’t step back, this train will run you over.”
I froze in my seat, afraid to look at her. What had happened to contractual obligations? Was Laura really going to rescue me from this nightmare? I squeezed her hand and swallowed the tears threatening to spill. Neither of them would get to see me cry .
“Proof?” He raised his eyebrows. “Whatever proof you have will do as much damage to her as to me. Her fans would never approve of a fifteen-year-old girl seducing a man my age in my position.”
“Seducing?” I almost choked on the word. “I was fifteen.”
“I didn’t ask you here to fight.” Kenny held up his hands. “We need to hammer out some dates to get this next album laid down.” He toggled the mouse on his desk and brought up a calendar on his computer, turning the monitor toward us.
“We’re not working with you.” Laura let go of my hand and opened her oversized purse. Out came an envelope, and she tossed it across the desk.
“It’s cute you think you have a choice.” He smirked while he fingered the opening of the long manila envelope. “Fucking women.” He slid out the stapled pages and scanned them, his smirk fading. Each page caused his smirk to slip into a frown. “You couldn’t have obtained any of this legally.”
“Fucking women, right?” Laura laughed. “Turns out if you burn enough of us, we band together and start an inferno of our own.” She shifted closer to his desk as though letting him in on a secret. “Five years ago, I didn’t know how to handle you. What could we do? Who’d believe us? A mother-daughter duo from a trailer park in butt-fuck nowhere. I had no connections. No money, except what the label had given us as an advance.” She eyed him. “Now, you’re the one on your knees sucking my dick.”
“This information would ruin Mia, too.” He’d gone pale under his spray tan. “The public isn’t that forgiving.”
“Oh, Kenny. I’ve learned a thing or two in five years.” Laura smirked and leaned back in her chair. “You think I can’t spin what’s in there? I don’t play cards until I’m sure they’re winners. One of the benefits of that dog-eat-dog upbringing. I learned when to go for the jugular. Right now, I’ve got my teeth around yours. It’s up to you if I bite down or release…for now.”
“How am I supposed to explain this to the label?” Kenny eased the papers back into the envelope.
“That’s not my problem.”
I sat beside her in stunned silence. I’d seen Laura in action before, but it had usually been against me, not fighting for me. My world was tipping, and I was careening toward the edge, in danger of toppling over. What had gotten into my mother?
“I do this, and none of this information goes public,” Kenny said.
“Agreed.” Laura rose and offered her hand across the desk. “It’s been a pleasure.” Kenny made no move to take her hand. “I’m sure that’s the first time you’ve heard those words out of a woman’s mouth. That feeling welling up in your chest? It’s called shock.”
That was definitely what was welling up in my chest while I followed her out of Kenny’s office. Once we were on the street, Pasha on one side, Laura on the other, a realization hit like a punch to the chest.
“Mom?”
Laura’s heels clicked along the concrete sidewalk toward the waiting car. “What’s wrong?”
“It wasn’t just me?” My steps faltered. “He did those things to other women? Not just me?”
“Of course.” With a sigh, Laura glanced my way and pushed her sunglasses onto her head. “Men like him never do it just once. He wasn’t going to have the opportunity to do it to you twice. Not when I knew. ”
I grabbed my hair in my fist, letting it trail over one shoulder, and I absorbed her words. “Is he still doing it?”
“The last singer I tracked down was from three years ago. Men like him don’t stop, Mia. They just get better at hiding it.”
Others were at risk. Some fifteen-year-old girl could be bent over his desk tomorrow, his lips making shushing noises in her ear as he pushed up her skirt, his hand clamped over her mouth. “We have to do something.”
“No.”
“Mom,” I pleaded.
“The only person I need to protect is you. You’re it.” Laura yanked open the back door to their waiting car. “Coming forward would ruin your career.”
“What he’s doing is wrong.” I couldn’t make my brain formulate the words I wanted to say, the ones I thought might convince her to do something more.
“Someday, someone will do something.” Laura wouldn’t meet my gaze. “It doesn’t have to be us. You’re safe now.”
I didn’t know exactly what Laura had revealed to Kenny. Safe wasn’t what I’d call giving him the information in the envelope.
“What if he calls your bluff? What if he tries to get ahead of this and releases whatever was in there?”
“You don’t need to worry.” Laura patted her hand. “The damage to him is too widespread.”
I rubbed my face and ran my hands through my hair. How many? How old? How often? I knew what had happened to me, how it stuck, how it coated any interactions that came afterward.
“You’re famous,” Laura said .
Wasn’t that why we should do something? How many of those other girls accomplished my level of fame? How many of them paid the price he demanded and bankrupted themselves?
“I don’t think that should matter.” Those weren’t the right words.
“Your safety is the only thing that matters. We’ve got the freedom you wanted. Be grateful. We’re out from under his thumb.”
From my pocket, I produced a lollipop and tore the wrapper off. The rising tide in my stomach wasn’t morning sickness though. It was something much more sinister. I hoped I could swallow down her truth long enough to stop thinking about whoever else was out there hurting, wishing someone would stitch them back together.
I stood at the bottom of the stairs to Tyler’s bus, indecisive. As soon as I’d gotten out of the car with Laura, he was my first thought. My mind kept spinning, circling the right thing to do. Go after Kenny, make his life difficult, even if I couldn’t bring him down, put so much pressure on him he wouldn’t dare do what he’d done to another girl. My gut told me I couldn’t sit by, silent.
But I was pregnant with a baby I wanted to keep secret.
I had a colorful past with men. My relationships weren’t neat and tidy. My image. My career. What had happened with Kenny was messy and could bury me just as easily.
Simpler to ignore that six-month window of my life. Except… I’d th ought I was the only one. He’d called me special, irresistible, and made me question my view of what he did. Had I wanted it? Given some signal it was okay for him to treat me that way? If what happened was wrong, if I didn’t want it, why did I let it happen?
My hand strayed to my still-flat stomach, and I took a deep breath. I hoped this baby was a boy. Tyler would raise him to treat women better. The things little girls faced in the world? I hated thinking about it.
I’d been kind of awful to Tyler for the last few weeks since he arrived on the tour. One minute, I wanted to sleep with him again. The next, I worried he might sleep with my mom. Wouldn’t that be something? Me pregnant and him fucking the grandmother.
He wouldn’t.
At least, I didn’t think he would. No matter what I threw at him, he shrugged off my words or actions. Sometimes, he even seemed amused by them, by me. In another life, I might have rooted for him to become involved with my mom, weather those storms and stick around.
The only storms I wanted him to weather now were mine, and then I wanted him to get the hell out of my life. Far enough away that I never needed to worry about changing my mind, about considering a life that could never make me happy.
The doors to the bus opened, and I jumped back, the costume in my hand swinging beside me. My free hand flew to my chest, pressing against my heart. From the top of the stairs, Tyler looked down, amused. His expression made my stomach flutter. There was something comforting about his face. Not just his eyes or his voice. Him . His presence was the same as slipping under the covers of my childhood bed after being on tour for months.
“You going to stand out here all night, or did you want to climb aboard?”
“I’m not sure. ”
“I believe that.” He chuckled. “Get up here. I’ll give you a lollipop.”
I gripped the handrail and then followed him onto the bus. At the top of the stairs, I tossed the ripped costume at him. He caught it easily, examining it with a slight frown.
“I didn’t know this was ripped.” His frown deepened.
He could probably tell I sliced the seam. I’d wanted to see him, but showing up without a reason felt stupid.
With a shrug, I shoved my hands into the pockets of my skirt and strolled around the main room.
“Something bothering you?” He passed me a lemon-ginger lollipop and flopped onto one of the leather couches while I let my attention dance across his personal things.
“Nothing is bothering me.”
“Come on, Mia. You’ve ignored me for the last couple of weeks, except during your shows. It’s fine. I get it. But last time you showed up here, you were upset. You’re here again. That costume didn’t rip. Someone cut it.” He raised his eyebrows, a hint of accusation crossing his face. “And there’s a weird aura around you.” He made a circling motion toward my body with his hand.
“You read people’s auras? Does this mean I need to give you a raise?” I turned and crossed my arms, leaning against his closet. “You some sort of mystic or psychic or some shit like that?”
“Now you’re deflecting.” A grin played at the edges of his mouth. He stretched his arms across the back of the couch. “Laura said you had a meeting with a producer today. How’d that go?”
“Why would my mother tell you that?” Annoyance rose up like a volcanic eruption.
“We were just chatting. ”
“When?” I narrowed my eyes.
Tyler sighed. “I finally let her take me to coffee.”
“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” I pointed to my belly. “You cannot sleep with the grandmother of your child. That’s a hard ‘no,’ Tyler. Gross. Just…don’t, okay?”
“We chatted over a caffeinated beverage, not body shots at a strip club.” He eyed me for a beat. “Strip club is tomorrow night. No decent ones in Nashville.”
I gaped at him. “You—”
“I’m kidding. I’m kidding.” He held up his hands.
“I don’t find it funny.”
“Clearly.”
“Don’t try to make me feel like I don’t have a sense of humor.” Anger sparked in my gut. “I can take a joke, and I get them, too. You know what else I get? Men. Most of them don’t look for an invitation before trying to stick their dick in. My mother doesn’t have a problem sending out the invites to the party in her pants.”
The smile died on Tyler’s lips, and he sat forward, all amusement gone. “That’s been your experience? That men don’t want or need an invitation?”
For a long time, I believed there was only one kind of man. A man who took what he wanted, no matter what. But I learned to recognize those men and could avoid most of them now.
“If that surprises you, you haven’t been paying attention to the world.” I scoffed.
“That happened to you?” He rubbed his face and stared at his hands. “Someone treated you like that?” When he looked up, his eyes were hard with suppressed anger .
“Not anymore.” But even that wasn’t true. Last week, at the end of a talk show performance, the male host had squeezed my ass as the cameras rolled and he joked with the live studio audience. My options had been to make a scene on camera or let him get away with it. Afterwards, I’d fumed to Taryn and Rebecca, and told Laura I wouldn’t be going on his talk show again anytime soon.
“So, it has happened to you,” Tyler said.
“My mom says it happens to every woman, but not every woman talks about it.” I’d forgotten that conversation. We had it after I told her about Kenny. Laura had said those words as though my situation was something to be accepted instead of fought against. She had fought today, but only for me, for my safety, not for anyone else. My mind kept swinging back to the others.
“As far as I know, it’s never happened to my sisters.” His hands dangled between his knees.
“So, what? You think there’s some kind of neon sign over my head? Over the heads of women like me telling assholes to take a chance? We won’t mind.” I stared at him. The truth was that I wondered the same thing. Was there something about me that made men realize they could get away with it? Did I somehow offer encouragement? Were the other girls like me in some way? “But your sisters have some sort of invisible… aura of protection?”
“That’s not what I said.” He shook his head. “Not what I meant, either. You and Laura have a strained relationship or—I don’t know—a complicated one. But I don’t get why she’d accept that kind of treatment for herself, and I really don’t understand why she’d let it happen to you. You’re both worth more. ”
I didn’t let his words digest before latching onto a few of them. “So, you think some women should be treated that way?”
“No. No woman should be treated that way.” He huffed out a breath.
“But you just said my mom and I are worth more. Worth more than who?”
“Not who.” A ghost of a smile drifted across his face. “Worth, in this sense, isn’t a competition. I mean self-worth, realizing you are worthy of better treatment.”
“Yeah, well, my mom says I’m hard work. Not easy to be around. Maybe I’m too much work. Maybe this is the best it gets.”
A beat of silence sat between us. “People don’t have to be easy to be worth investing in. Sometimes, the people you have to work for, the relationships you earn, are more important than whether the journey was easy. I don’t believe that whatever you’ve had before is the best you can do. Not even close.”
My heart swelled at his words. Men called me all sorts of things: a tease, a slut, too open, not open enough, frigid. None of them ever turned the negative into a positive, made me feel like I could be myself, my real self, that I might be worthy of more. Men had always sought what I could give them, never considered what they could give me. A confession rose, and I let it float to the top of my consciousness.
“The first time it happened, I was thirteen.” I couldn’t look at him. The words tumbled out before I had a chance to stop them. “I was drinking at a friend’s house. When I came home, my mom’s boyfriend was in the living room, waiting up. Not my mom. Just her boyfriend.” Tyler’s feet appeared mere inches from mine, and I glanced up. When did he leave the couch ?
“Did he hurt you?” His voice was rough, and his breath teased the tendrils of my hair loosened from my braid.
“Don’t they all?” My heart hammered in my chest. “Everybody always wants a piece of me.” Tyler did, too. He wanted the cluster of cells multiplying inside me.
“Did the producer you went to see hurt you?” His fingers were gentle as they skimmed my cheek, tucking the stray strands behind my ear.
“Yes,” I whispered. I’d never admitted the truth to anyone except my mom. Even then, I’d been high on drugs when I finally spilled that secret. “Not today. Years ago. He can’t hurt me anymore.” His eyes were filled with so much concern that I wanted to melt into him. I inched forward and slid my arms around his middle, and he drew me tight against him, sighing into my hair. “Can we be friends, Tyler? Real friends?” His heart thumped against my ear.
He cleared his throat. “That’s what you want?”
“I like the way you treat me, even when I don’t deserve it.”
“Aww, Mia.” He made slow circles on my back. “You deserve kindness. You didn’t deserve what happened to you at thirteen; you didn’t deserve whatever happened to you with that producer, and you didn’t deserve any other time some dirtbag laid his hands on you and you didn’t want it.” He drew back to stare into my eyes. “None of that is your fault.”
“I should have done more to stop them.” I closed my eyes, blocking out the thickness of the envelope Laura had thrown across Kenny’s desk. There were other things I should be stopping now. But with the baby and my career, the risks were too great. “I think I might be a terrible person.”
He crouched down and cupped my face in his hands. “You’re not a terrible person. Their choices aren’t yours. ”
I was still choosing to keep quiet, to hide the ugliness. So much better if my past didn’t exist. “I should go. I’m sorry.” A small laugh escaped as I broke away. “God, why am I such a mess right now?” I wiped a few stray tears that slid down my cheeks. “It’s not like anyone is dying. I’m famous. I shouldn’t be fucking complaining about shit that doesn’t matter. Do you know how many people would kill to be in my shoes?” I twisted my ankle to show him my fancy stilettos. “Even these ones.” I slid one hand down my face, slipping the invisible mask back in place. “I shouldn’t have told you all that. I’m sorry. That was stupid. I should go.” A smile flashed. “I’m glad we’re friends, though. That’ll be nice, right?”
“Mia—”
From the top of the bus stairs, I called, “When you get that costume fixed, just return it to wardrobe, okay?” My laugh sounded fake even to my ears. “Shitty seamstress, I guess. Came apart in my hand.” After I cut it with scissors.
“You don’t have to go.”
“Things to do,” I yelled back as the doors swished open. When I caught the first taste of fresh air, the tightness in my chest eased. I almost told him all of it. Then what? He’d realize I was weak, that I cared more about myself than other people. All true. But I didn’t want him to see me that way.
My mother’s words played again—we were safe now, and safety was all that mattered.