38. Oh No She Didn’t
38
OH NO SHE DIDN’T
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Phil MacGregor was very pleased with us.
Between our kick-ass gig at First Avenue and the slightly hysterical posts of the delectable Bella Southdown, Aftermath was on every screen in America. Our interview with Rolling Stone was short, but even a paragraph in that venerable old rag would be a huge boost.
“Thank god you insisted on bringing the dog on your tour,” Phil said to us when we had a Zoom call with him. “That search-and-rescue thing was inspired. You got huge press.”
I frowned. “She really did get lost,” I said. “And we’re already working with a trainer, so it won’t?—”
“Yes, that’s great. The dog is a total moneymaker. Don’t ever let me forget how important she is to your image.”
I had a moment where I got stuck thinking that it was O’Connor who’d gotten us all that attention when we found Charlotte. She’d gotten us all that attention all along. It was one of her followers that had told us where the farmer had spotted Charlotte. But then, where was O’Connor now? Now when Bella Southdown and her truly beautiful breasts were so eager to promote us?
Who needed stuck-up old O’Connor?
“I’ve got big news because of all the attention,” Phil said, regaining my attention. We only had three days to make it to Vegas for the next gig, so we’d found another dive motel (this one somewhere in Iowa) and were clustered around the cigarette-scarred table by the window to the parking lot.
“More big news?” Mal asked. “Bigger than rocking First Avenue until we damn near cracked the foundations?” He and Ian slapped a crisp high five.
“Bigger!” Phil was very confident. “You know you’re booked at Brooklyn Steel on December 3—that’s a great small venue, by the way. You’ll love it. Not huge, but very popular.”
“Hometown crowd,” Ian said.
Mal explained. “We’ve opened there before. It’s awesome.”
“Well.” Phil was expansive. “You’re the headliner this time. But that’s not the big news. I’ve been working the phones, and the powers that be are offering you the Rooftop at Pier 17 the same night. A midnight show!”
I looked at my guys to see if they understood something I didn’t. They were as lost as I was. “That’s an outdoor space. A summer space.”
“Yeah.” Phil was practically rubbing his hands with glee. “They’re going to bill you as their midwinter special. ‘Wear your down parkas and come see the hottest band in America.’ They’ve never done a winter concert before. You’re starting a trend!”
“We’ll have to buy Charlotte a dog coat,” I said automatically.
“Buy her the best available. Or rather, I’ll buy it for a fraction of the commission I’m getting on this one. They think it’s going to be the biggest concert of the season, what with your music and popularity and that dog, so let me tell you how much they’re offering for the gig.”
We were all wide-eyed at the end of that conversation.
“We’ve never made anything like that much off a single gig,” Mal whispered.
“This is just the beginning, boys, I’m telling you. You keep that dog healthy! I’m going to fly to Vegas to see you for Tuesday’s gig, and I’ve set up a whole day of press, so don’t be late.”
“Wait—you want us there by Tuesday morning? It’s Saturday, and we’re in Iowa. Aren’t we?”
Mal agreed with me. “It’s definitely Iowa. Okay, I’ll have to reroute us. Get us to Vegas on Monday night.”
“And I have to compliment you guys on attracting the attention of some excellent midsized social media influencers. You’ve got that sweet little Southdown on your chain now, too, don’t you?”
“On our chain?” I thought that was an unnecessarily disgusting phrase.
“You know what I mean. You have Opinionated O’Connor practically eating out of your hand and word is she can’t be bought, so you’re playing this absolutely right. I’m proud of you boys.”
O’Connor? Eating out of my hand? Hardly. I was going to object, but Phil had moved on.
“In Vegas, I’m going to make sure you get time with The Scoop ’s team. I’m going to invest two hundred thousand in a series of favorable blog posts on the site.”
“What?” Ian was outraged.
“No way!” Mal was just as shocked.
“Don’t do it,” I said. “Don’t waste the money. We’re getting good enough press without buying it.”
“Stick with me, boys. This is the way the game is played. Trust me. In the end, you won’t even notice the cut of that money that you guys are paying for. ”
“Wait— we’re paying two hundred thousand for a schlocky media influencer to say stuff about us that others are saying for free? Because it’s true?” Ian was nodding as I spoke, and Mal slapped my shoulder in agreement. “We don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Look, guys, I didn’t tell you you had to put Charlotte on a plane, did I? Don’t you tell me how to be the best agent for Aftermath that I can be.”
“Well, hold on. What if I get Southdown’s Variety to do the Las Vegas gig with us instead? She’s free, and her reach is pretty big.” As were her breasts.
Phil clicked keys. “ Southdown’s Variety has barely twenty million followers. The Scoop has . . . fifty-seven million. She can’t match them.”
“But everyone knows The Scoop is for sale! No one trusts them!” Maybe O’Connor thought I hadn’t been listening, but I’d heard her. I always heard her.
“Who told you that? It’s just not true.”
We argued with Phil until he finally agreed to postpone his social media buy on The Scoop , “but only until your rooftop concert in Manhattan. That is really going to be epic!”
We worked out some details, and when we hung up, we tried to get a read on each other. It wasn’t easy.
Mal summed it up. “I don’t know if I love that guy or hate him.”
“Both?” Ian suggested.
“An outdoor gig in winter,” I said. “It’s going to be like the Beatles on the roof at Apple Records.”
“You wish,” Mal said. “This is going to be Manhattan in December. At night. I need to buy some fingerless gloves.”
“You need to buy some talent,” I teased. He put me in a headlock, and we wrestled until the table we fell against creaked like it was going to break. How rock ’n’ roll to trash a hotel room .
“Guess you’d better call Bella,” Ian said.
“And O’Connor?” Mal happened to have me in a half nelson, which I’d pointed out to him before was an illegal wrestling move, but he had no respect for rules.
“I’ll call Bella,” I grunted, trying to throw him over my back. It didn’t work; he was bigger and stronger than me. “But not O’Connor. I’m done with her.”
How little did I realize just how true that was until Phil called back not ten minutes later.
“Have you seen it?” he said without preamble.
“Seen what?”
He shared his screen, and we leaned in to read the press release from a publishing house.
O’Connor would soon be releasing a tell-all book.
About me.
“Fuuuuuuuck,” Mal breathed.
Every moment with O’Connor played across my brain. All the things that she could spin into dirt.
Lying to her that my middle name was Chaucer to gain her trust.
“Teaching” me to kiss.
This explained why she was so interested in the Maggie Danforth disaster.
Why she’d interviewed my family.
She’d suckered me from the beginning.
Oh, poor me , she’d said. Everybody wants something from Opinionated O’Connor, and I have no friends .
Well, O’Connor had wanted something from me. And she’d gotten it.
That bitch.
“I’m calling Bella Southdown,” I said, fury making me icy. “Get me my phone.”