20. Twenty
West hated these things, but they went with the territory, and after announcing his retirement, then falling off a yacht and washing up on a deserted island, the press was having a field day.
Stacy, his public relations agent, had flown in the moment he had called her. If anyone could help him spin this situation, it was her.
“You have created quite the frenzy, Monroe,” Stacy said as she fiddled with his hair before he went out to talk with the press.
“I know, Stace. If it makes you feel better, it was unintentional.”
Stacy smiled at him in the mirror. “You know I never stay mad at you, but they’re vultures out there today. Bobby from TMZ is pissed you canceled last night; he’s not going to go easy on you.”
West felt his face warm just thinking about the things he and Kat had done the night before. He had done plenty of depraved things in his life, but the feelings of last night had never been there. He cleared his throat, shaking the images of Kat’s naked body out of his head. “I had something come up.”
Stacy looked down at his lap. “Mmmm, I bet.”
West grinned. She knew him all too well. She’d been his PR rep for almost twenty years. Stacy and her wife had always called him out, but he loved her realness; it had made their relationship easy. He really did need to dig into why he couldn’t work with single straight women without wanting to fuck them. Maybe it had just been Kat all along he had needed to keep at arm’s length.
“Where’s the girl?” Stacy asked him.
“Kat? I don’t want her involved. I told you that on the phone.”
Stacy pursed her lips, holding back what she wanted to say, something she didn’t do often.
“What?” he asked her.
“Nothing,” Stacy said, going back to fussing with his hair.
West gave her a disbelieving look.
“It’s just . . . did you ask her if she wanted to be left out of all this?”
West thought about it for a moment. He hadn’t actually asked, but he knew she didn’t want to be involved. She had said on multiple occasions that his life of fame would be difficult for her.
“I just know she wants to keep her name out of it as long as possible.”
“So, you’re just going to tell the press that you fell into the ocean, landed on a deserted island with some girl on your production crew, and nothing happened between you two—even though you’ve clearly fallen in love with her. Your face says it all.”
West scowled at her. “I am not, and no, it doesn’t.”
“You are so over the moon, baby, and I am so happy for you, but just remember those predators out there are going to read you too. Then they’ll eat you alive, so whatever your story, just make sure your face matches.”
West wouldn’t admit it aloud, but Stacy was right. He was in love with Kat, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He wanted to tell her, but he wasn’t sure if she was ready to hear it. Women had never rejected him before, other than his mother, who’d had no interest in his life. If Kat rejected him, he wasn’t sure he could come back from that.
West nodded, standing to shake out his clothes. “I got this, Stace. You know the press loves me.”
“They used to. Now they’re pissed you announced your retirement through social media. No one got the exclusive and they’ve been banging down my and Declan’s doors.”
West gave her his best smile, but she was still frowning. “I’m sorry. I know you told me not to do it, but Declan said it was a better plan.”
“And I told you to stop listening to that dimwit,” Stacy snapped back. “Something’s off with him, and if I were you I wouldn’t trust him.”
“You mean the cocaine?” West already knew all about Declan’s cocaine addiction. It wasn’t news to him, but his behavior had been more erratic lately.
Stacy sighed. “Just make sure all your ducks are in a row, West.” She looked out at the press, who seemed to be getting anxious. “Now get out there before they tear this place apart.”
Kat’s knee bounced up and down in the back of the cab as she watched the buildings pass by.
“Could you go faster?” She leaned over between the front seats to get the driver’s attention.
He didn’t acknowledge her, and Kat sulked in her seat. “Of course you can’t go faster. It’s just the love of my life that’s about to be blown to pieces. Even if I can’t be with him, he can’t be dead.”
Her heart skipped a beat at her confession. Although it had only been to herself and a cabbie who didn’t speak English, it was still monumental. She loved West, and she was too chickenshit to tell him.
A voice on the radio piqued her interest, making her sit up straight in her seat. “Can you turn that up?”
The cabbie just shrugged.
“Louder, please.” She made the motion of turning a knob and pointed to the radio.
“Ay.” The cabbie turned the volume knob.
“Yes! Thank you.” Kat let out a relieved breath as she heard West’s deep voice through the airwaves. They were broadcasting the press conference on the radio. He was still talking, which meant she had time to reach him.
“ . . . so you won’t tell us who the woman you were on the island with is?” one reporter asked.
“For her privacy, no, I will not be giving her identity at this time. All I’ll say is she was just a member of my production team.”
Kat ground her teeth. He didn’t even say she was one of his musicians. In an instant, he had made her even more anonymous. He had removed himself from her even further.
“How did you get off the island?” another reporter asked.
“A group of fishermen from Sawu Island came by and saw us. They took us back there and helped us find our way to Jakarta,” West replied.
They had agreed with the authorities to keep Cocaine Island out of the press for now. They needed time to search, and they wanted to keep it quiet in hopes the traffickers wouldn’t leave and find a new island.
The press asked West a few more questions about how they’d survived. He at least gave her props for catching the fish, but not by name. She zoned out for a while, thinking about how she was just the nameless woman by his side, and how if she stayed with him that would always be her lot in life. That loving him wouldn’t be enough for her. She couldn’t just hang back anymore, riding his coattails.
“What’s next for Weston Monroe?” the reporter asked.” That got her attention.
“You know, I’m still kind of deciding,” West said with what sounded like slight trepidation.
“That’s not what your manager said,” the same reporter replied.
Kat heard a barely perceptible curse from West under his breath and gave a slight laugh that the radio didn’t even bleep it out. Then she went back to worrying about what the hell this reporter was talking about.
West took a breath. “I have accepted a two-picture deal with Onslaught Pictures.”
The press room erupted, and Kat’s mind swirled with questions as she ignored the rest of the press conference.
When had he done that? He hadn’t told her. She believed he’d made the wrong decision, but he was unconcerned with her perception. He was set on acting, and she had no choice but to accept it. Kat realized her issues had nothing to do with the acting but was more about the fact that she worried she would never fit into that lifestyle. At least music she understood.
She was racing—well, racing was too generous a word—through Jakarta to save a man who didn’t seem to care one iota about her. Even worse, he had told Declan, who had leaked it to the press. The fact that Declan knew before her just added insult to injury.
“Okay, that’s enough questions.” A woman’s voice cut through the insanity of the pressroom. Kat heard a shuffling sound as they pushed chairs back, the press conference over. “If you have any more questions, you can reach out to me at Stacy Lark PR.” The woman’s voice came through crisp and clear. Kat knew who Stacy was and had seen her a few times on tour with them. She was authoritative, strong, and never put up with West’s crap. Kat liked her a lot, even if she didn’t really know her.
The feed cut off, and a disc jockey came on thinking it would be funny to play the latest Weston Monroe single. As the song played, Kat thought about how surreal it was to be hearing her own voice in a cab as she rushed through the streets of Jakarta. She really should never complain again about interesting things not happening to her. She was ready for some peace.
“How much farther?” She gestured, moving her arms in and out, trying to convey distance.
The cabbie held up his thumb and index finger close together, and Kat took that to mean not much farther.
She closed her eyes, focusing on her breath. She had to make it in time.
“That was a clusterfuck, Stace.” West walked through the back hallway of the Jakarta Globe adjusting his suit coat. “How did Dec even get to them so quickly? I shouldn’t have told him about taking the movie deal.”
Stacy shook her head as she walked in stride with him.
West stopped, turning toward her. “I know. You said not to trust him, and I think you’re right. You know, I’ve been having money issues.”
That piqued Stacy’s interest. “Really?”
“Yeah. Money’s disappearing, and I know it’s not me spending it, or I’m pretty sure it’s not completely me. I’m beginning to wonder if Dec has anything to do with it.”
Stacy brushed at an invisible piece of lint on her power suit. “I told you that man’s a snake. I know he’s made you, and me by proxy, a lot of money, but you know better than anyone that you can’t have blind loyalty in this business.”
West mulled over her words. Declan had always pushed him to give the audience what they wanted. Some people had called West a sellout, and there were plenty of times he’d felt like one. He had made a ton of money, toured the world, and had massive popularity, but had he really done it the way he wanted to? Declan had been the driving force behind everything, like West constantly touring, making albums, and always working. West hadn’t minded much. He enjoyed staying busy. But now that he thought about it, Declan was the grand mastermind, so who better to pocket money from the top?
West resumed walking down the hallway, Stacy walking after him.
“Where are you going, West? What did I say?”
“I think you’re right. I think Dec’s up to something. I want to get back to the hotel and confront him.”
“You sure that’s a good idea?” Stacy caught up to him, her heels clicking down the hallway. “I’d wait until you”re back in the States. Have your accountant find the paper trail.”
West halted, and Stacy bumped into him. “Oof . . . are you coming or going, Monroe? Make a decision.”
“You’re right, I need to wait until I have hard evidence on him.”
“You couldn’t have figured that out while still walking?” she asked, rubbing her forehead. “Why are you like a solid wall?”
West smiled down at her, remembering another woman who got mad at him for running into her. Everything reminded him of Kat these days.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Stacy’s disgust was evident.
“Sorry, I was thinking of someone.”
“Aww, your girl?”
“She’s not my—”
Stacy waved him off and resumed walking. “Whatever you say, lover boy. Let’s get you back to her.”
West tried to hide the smile that crept across his face. He was only too happy to get back to the hotel and talk with Kat. He knew she was going to be mad at him for accepting the acting deal with Onslaught Pictures. Suddenly he felt like he had made a huge mistake. He should have waited until they were back in the States to make that decision. He should have talked with her, but he already knew her opinion on the matter.
It annoyed him that deep down she was right. He was scared to put himself back out there, start his own label, and go back to his stripped-down music. The music that he loved but had never been as popular. He was scared that he was past his prime and would never be as successful as he had been. Acting was a chance at something new, a chance to be on top again, but what if she was right? What if it was the easy way out?
He rounded the corner at the back of the building and saw his black town car waiting for him.
“You coming back to the hotel with me?”
Stacy crossed her arms over her chest. “I’d like nothing more, but your little duplicitous manager has created a mess for me to clean up. I’ve already received ten texts since walking out here, all wanting your acting exclusive.”
West tried to look chagrined. “Sorry, Stace. I shouldn’t have told him I’d made any decision.”
Stacy leaned against the car as West opened the door. “No, and don’t tell that guy shit from here on out.”
West gave her a mock salute as he climbed in. “You’re the boss.”
Stacy laughed. “And don’t you forget it!” she said, closing the door, much to the annoyance of the driver who had been standing by.
West leaned his head back on the plush, leather seat and let out a long exhale. How had his day devolved into this? Now he had to talk the woman he was falling in love with into believing that he was indeed falling in love with her, all while acting like his manager wasn’t a lying piece of shit.
He needed a stiff drink.
After a lot of hand gestures and pantomime, Kat convinced the cabbie to drive to the back of the building, where she knew they would drop West off and pick him up. There was always a special place for celebrities like him.
The cab rolled into the back with security yelling at him, and he started yelling back at security.
Kat let out a huge sigh of relief when she saw Stacy standing by the curb talking on her phone.
The cab came to a stop as security swarmed the car, yelling at the driver. She had no idea what they were saying, and she didn’t care. Kat jumped out of the cab, but a security guard stopped her, pulling her back and yelling at her in Indonesian.
“No! Let me go!” Kat pulled on his arm to get free. She was not going to be this close and fail to save West.
“Stacy!”
Stacy looked up from her call, finally noticing the chaos going on around her.
“Tell them who I am,” Kat pleaded as she struggled to get free from the men with very large automatic weapons.
Stacy walked over and flashed her press badge. “Let her go. She’s with me.”
The guard nodded and let go of Kat’s already injured arms, which would have deep bruises on them come tomorrow.
“Thanks, Stacy. Where’s West?” she asked breathlessly.
Stacy cocked her head to the side and looked Kat up and down. “He just left.”
“No.” Kat felt her legs faltering beneath her as she sank to the curb.
“This is a two-thousand-dollar pantsuit, or I’d join you down there, honey. He’s headed back to you. What’s wrong?”
Kat couldn’t breathe. She tried to inhale, but nothing would come in. She felt her lungs shriveling up in her chest. This was what it felt like to die by asphyxiation. She couldn’t get the words out. West was going to die. She couldn’t say them.
“His car . . .” she spat out. “They . . . messed . . . with . . . his . . . car . . .”
Stacy stepped off the curb and squatted down, lifting Kat’s head. “What are you talking about?”
That’s when Kat noticed it in Stacy’s hand. Her phone! A freaking phone. Kat had been so long without one, she forgot she could call West.
She pointed at Stacy’s phone. “Call West!”
Without another word, Stacy dialed West and handed Kat the phone.
It rang two . . . three . . . four times and Kat panicked. He wasn’t going to answer.
“What now, Stace?” His deep, calming voice rang through the earpiece, and Kat felt instantly calmer.
“West!”
“Kat? Is that . . . what are you doing with Stacy?”
“Just don’t ask questions, okay? You need to get out of your car now.”
“Huh? Why?”
“West, I said don’t ask questions. Just do it! Get out!”
“I can’t. We’re just getting on the freeway . . .”
“West, now!”
Kat waited for a reply but didn’t hear one. The phone crackled. “West? West? Oh my god, West!”
The phone cut off, and Kat had to stop herself from throwing someone else’s phone across the Jakarta Globe’s parking garage.
Before Kat could think of her next move, a loud boom echoed through the city block.