Chapter 36
brODIE
“We haven’t informed the label that we’re in a relationship, but we will, and soon,” Van replied. “But no matter what, Brodie comes first. If I feel there’s any personal conflict, I’ll recuse myself.”
“Van, you don’t need to—“
“Brodie, I’m not finished,” Mom interrupted. “It’s not just your work. There’s your age difference. And the tours, your nomadic lifestyle, won’t that be difficult on a relationship?”
Van squeezed my side, so I held back on saying anything.
“And I’m not going to lie and say we have all the answers, Nia.
We have differences between us, including fifteen years, but Brodie and I also have a bond that has only grown stronger over time.
We both understand each other’s careers and what that entails.
And I can assure you, my feelings for Brodie are very real.
I’m in love with your son,” Van declared.
Silence descended among my family, and I tightened my grip on Van’s waist in return.
“I believe you, but—” my mom started.
“No,” I interrupted. “That’s it. We’re not gonna justify our relationship to you. I’m in love with Van, and he’s in love with me. That’s all you need to know. He’s the best person I’ve ever met, and everything about us feels right. Be happy for us.”
I understood my mom’s protectiveness and that it came from a place of love, but I was a grown-ass man who knew my own feelings.
“You’re brave, Van, taking this one on,” Dad joked as he pointed to me, breaking the tension.
Van shook his head. “Not brave, but very lucky.”
Mom walked over and pulled me into another crushing hug. “I’m sorry, baby. You know I love you and support you. You have such a tender heart under all the snark and glamour, and I just want you to be happy.”
“I am. Beyond happy.”
She pulled back and nodded, wiping away a few tears on her face, and my own eyes filled up.
Then she turned to Van. “Brodie has always spoken highly of you, and he knows his own heart. Always has. Take good care of it.”
This time, Van pulled her into a hug. “I will.”
“Okay, okay, enough emo stuff,” I announced, lightening the mood. “Let’s get out the real booze and the cards and play some poker.”
“I’m gonna trounce your butt, asshat!” Vi called out.
And just like that, we were back to normal again.
“Dinner first, gambling later,” Mom stated. “Do you play poker, Van?”
“A few times. I’m no expert by any means.”
My mom smiled at him. “A word of warning: we’re hyper-competitive.”
“Should I just hand over my wallet now?” he quipped.
I leaned up and gave him a reassuring kiss. My heart skipped a beat when I stared into his denim blues.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“Ready to bolt?”
“No way. They’d have to kick me out,” Van replied and kissed me back.
After we’d drunk the champagne and opened another bottle, we sat down to an enormous seafood feast. Dad had cooked outside on the grill since the kitchen was still under renovation.
Van looked relaxed as he chatted with my dad.
He also seemed to enjoy the antics of my sister and the stories my mom told about me when I was young.
When dinner was done, we got out the cards and the poker chips.
Two hours later, my sister and I were the last ones standing. Van, meanwhile, was deep in conversation with my brother-in-law, Petyr.
Until his phone rang.
“I’m terribly sorry, but I need to take this.” Van stood up.
“Use my office,” Dad urged. “First door on the right at the end of the hallway.”
Van nodded and walked off.
I watched the rolling swagger and the flex of his round ass.
Until I felt a tap on my chest and looked down to find a red poker chip in my lap.
“Stop ogling your man and pay attention,” my sister teased.
I threw the chip back at her. “If you really want to win this game, you shouldn’t say anything and let me be distracted.”
I got another chip lobbed at me in response.
VAN
Whenever someone from PR called me, my nerves buzzed.
Whenever the head of PR called me directly, my stomach acid churned full force.
I slipped into Lachlan’s office and shut the door behind me.
“Zoe, what’s up?” I answered.
“I wanted to give you a heads up that Entertainment Now is running a story about your relationship with Brodie.”
“Those rumors have circulated since the concert,” I countered.
“Yes, but my source claims they have intimate photos of you and Brodie together, which they’ll be posting online shortly. And they’ve dug into your background. I have to inform Greg, but I wanted you to know first.”
My stomach sank. “I’m not sure if we should make any comment at this point.”
“We’re better off getting in front of it sooner rather than later. Control the narrative, remember?”
“Let me talk to Brodie and Greg first, and I’ll get back to you, all right?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
“Fuck!” I exclaimed after I tapped to end the call.
Before I could do anything, my phone rang again. It was Dawson this time.
“Dawson? Aren’t you here on site?”
“Regan sent me back to Brodie’s. I did some digging on that van, and I got a hit, so I thought you’d want to know right away. The vehicle belongs to a journalist named Jordan Jakes. Odd thing is, he used to work at Bandit seven years ago. He reported directly to Greg.”
Son of a bitch.
“Thanks, Dawson. I appreciate the information.”
“No worries.”
I hung up and started googling Jakes.
There were various pictures of him from 2016 at Bandit event parties as well as concerts. And one of him and Greg standing side by side at the annual Music Hall of Fame event.
I tapped my phone and dialed Greg. I didn’t care that it was late at night, I was so fucking enraged.
“Van.”
“Jordan Jakes,” I bit out.
“What about him?”
There was only a slight pause in Greg’s reply, but I noticed.
“He was the first van parked outside Brodie’s. You tipped him off. And I bet you also had that pap in Nashville follow us to the airport.”
“I did.”
“What the fuck, Greg?”
“I was ticked off by your lack of disclosure after the concert. I know everything that goes on in my business, and from what I was seeing and hearing, albeit from a distance, it was clear that something was going on between you and Brodie. That clause in your contract is there to protect the label. And you and the people you work for and with. Mostly to protect my business. But after the concert videos surfaced and you took off with Brodie to Rhode Island, I had time to think about what was going on. I realized that you and him probably wasn’t a one-off thing.
And the fans were gonna eat that shit up. ”
“And so, what, you figured you would have us tailed and photographed for more publicity?”
“Twenty-plus years in this biz, and you’re surprised, Van? Come on. Don’t act fucking stupid.”
“I just got off the phone with Zoe. This reporter dug into my personal life, and I have no idea what the story is going to read like, not to mention that he apparently has photos of me and Brodie when we assumed we had privacy—”
“You know better than most that the love life of a celebrity, especially one as big as Brodie, is always of interest. If you plan to stay with him, get used to it.”
I fucking hated to admit it, but Greg had a point.
I was still pissed because, yeah, sending that asshole here to spy on us was a dick move on his part.
But I would have to get used to being in the public eye. There would be no turning back. My privacy, my life as I knew it, was gone.
“What now?” I asked.
“I’ll arrange a conference call with you, Zoe, and Brodie. Let’s devise a plan to get the most out of this development. Then we’ll talk about your re-assignment.”
“Now wait—”
“Unless you prefer to get fired?” Greg snapped.
“I think Brodie should have a say in this. And the rest of the guys.”
“This isn’t a democracy, Van. It’s my fucking company. I decide.”
“Be prepared for your number one money maker to push back.”
“We’ll see about that. I’ll set up the call one hour from now.”
“Fine.”
So much for being in our own bubble for a while. All our plans to come out in the new year washed away with the tide.
“Tabarnak!” I swore out loud and shoved my phone back into my pocket.
I headed back out to the living room to find Brodie collecting his poker winnings.
I didn’t need to say anything. He saw the look on my face and got up, walking toward me.
“What’s wrong?”
“We need to have a call with Greg and PR in an hour. I’m afraid we aren’t going to get the luxury of coming out when we want. I’ll tell you more when we get home.”
I didn’t want to tell him anything while he was here. I knew he would lose it when I told him what Greg had done.
Brodie nodded and took my hand. Together, we said our goodbyes to his family and promised to return in a week’s time.
We headed back out to the SUV and were home ten minutes later. I didn’t care if the paps that followed us got our picture.
They were late. Our story was already in progress.
I headed for the bar and poured two glasses of brandy. I passed one to Brodie and sat down beside him.
“Take a sip. Better yet, two,” I encouraged.
“Out with it, what’s going on?”
“The pap outside, the first one that arrived, his name is Jordan Jakes. He’s a gossip reporter and former Bandit employee.
Greg purposely tipped him off to follow us around here, and now the guy is running a story about our relationship.
Apparently, he has pictures. And he’s done a whole story about my background.
So, whether I’m ready to come out or not, I’m out.
And in no short order, millions of people will know about us. ”
Brodie slammed his glass on the table in front of him and leaped off the couch. “That fucking piece of shit! How dare he do that to you?”
“I’m not finished. Given all this and the fact that I didn’t disclose our relationship, Greg is re-assigning me.”
“No!”
“Sweetheart, it might be for the best—”
“I can’t believe you would say that!”
I got up and slid my hand around his waist. “He would be well within his rights to fire me, so I think a compromise is not the worst thing. We’ll be okay. No matter what happens with my job, I’m not walking away from you.”
“But I want you with me, in the studio and on tour. And writing more songs. I know you won’t be working with me forever, but I thought we still had a few years.”
I pulled him in tightly and felt his body trembling.
“We can still write together. That won’t change,” I reassured him.
“Outside of that, what Greg did is wrong, and I’m not going to stand for it,” he growled. “No one should be forced to come out.”
Brodie pulled away and picked up his phone.
“Who are you calling?”
“Iain first. Then my lawyer.”
“Brodie—”
“Van, I’m not going to stand by and not protect you. You do it all the time for me; why can’t I do the same for you?”
His passionate statement made my heart take off running.
“I’m not going to stop you, but let’s talk to Greg first.”
“He deliberately set that reporter on us! I don’t know if I can be civil to him ever again. As it is, I want to ram my fist in his smug fucking face.”
“We’ll work our aggression out in the studio. We can write a kick-ass rock anthem where you sing about kicking his ass.”
Brodie scoffed. “Only if I can name it ‘Music Mogul Dickhead.’”
“Deal. And we can work our frustration out in other, more pleasurable ways.”
Brodie shook his head, but I caught his grin.
“Don’t try to make me smile right now. I’m angry as fuck, and I want to stay that way.”
“Text Iain and the guys and tell them we’ll give them an update once we talk to Greg and Zoe.”
Brodie bit his lip, then began to pace.
“I’m still contacting my lawyer. I refuse to continue working with a man and a label who outs people without their consent.”
“He gave me an opportunity to tell him—”
“Privately, yes, we could’ve told him about you and me. But I’m already out; you’re not. So he sics a tabloid reporter on us and forces your hand that way? I don’t give a shit what your contract says, that’s just wrong.”
I knew by the stubborn tilt of his chin that Brodie’s mind was made up.
And the more I thought about it, the more I agreed with him.
“You’re right. And I know exactly what I need to do.”