“All right,” I agreed on a clipped nod, my nerves jumping, knowing this could be absolutely nothing, or could forever change the direction of our lives. The guy basically held the future of Sunder in the palm of his grubby hand.
Ripping off my sweaty shirt, I snagged the clean one Anthony was offering and threw it over my head.
We headed in the direction of the office, passed by Zee who’d gotten cornered by a group of kids that couldn’t have been older than fourteen, the guy all smiles, true attention turned on them as he scrawled out his autograph on anything they shoved at him and gladly answered their questions. Lyrik strolled right on by, all casual but with that never-ceasing threat that seemed to radiate off him, everyone scrambling out of his way. He sent me a questioning eye as I walked along with Anthony. I gave him a lilt of my head, a silent later, and he returned the same before he followed Ash’s lead and disappeared into the reception room.
Anthony led me into the office. Karl Fitzgerald stood from the old, heavy brown leather rocker office chair, still wearing a suit, always looking completely out of place. “Sebastian Stone,” he said, his voice tight and his hand curt.
I shook it. “It’s nice to see you, Mr. Fitzgerald.”
Actually, I despised the asshole, but I figured that kind of greeting wouldn’t go over so well.
Apparently he didn’t feel the need to fill the space with idle pleasantries, either. “Anthony has filled me in a little on what’s going on with your case. He’s assured me he’s doing everything to ensure this mess is settled out of court.”
I resisted the urge to spit out something sarcastic, because after the disaster this afternoon, I was willing to make bets that was not going to happen. But Anthony seemed confident, was standing behind me, so I had to stand behind him. Like family ought, Anthony always had my back.
“We’re doing everything we can to make sure that happens,” I conceded.
“Good. Then we won’t regret that Mylton Records has chosen to keep Sunder under its wing and at this point isn’t seeking breech of contract. You make sure you get this settled quickly and keep yourself out of jail. We’ll get you back out on the road as soon as we’re certain an incarceration won’t interfere with a tour. We won’t be losing money if another is canceled.”
My nod was short because he wasn’t asking me for an answer. This visit was a warning. Sunder was sitting belly up at the last chance saloon. Sad thing was, I had to be grateful for what he clearly considered generosity on his part.
“It seems we have an understanding then.” He straightened his tie and was gone, and Anthony was grinning, and I was standing there having no idea how I really felt.
“This is good news, Baz,” Anthony said, as if he needed to convince me.
“I know.” I rubbed a hand over my face. “I’m going to grab my stuff…head home.”
With a speculative eyebrow raised at my subdued response, Anthony simply said, “All right. I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”
I left the office and went straight to the dressing rooms. Lyrik was on the couch, nursing at a beer while two girls crawled all over him, one on her knees between his rubbing greedy hands up and down his thighs, the other on the couch beside him, fingers preparing to get friendly as she teased under his shirt.
Fucking awesome.
Dude was always such a dog.
I shook my head, grabbed my bag from the floor, and stuffed the couple things I needed inside, doing my best not to be annoyed when I heard the telltale sounds of Ash going at it with some chick in one of the inner dressing rooms.
“So what was that about?” Lyrik asked, referring to the meeting Anthony had whisked me away to.
“Karl Fitzgerald.”
Lyrik’s dark eyes got intense. “And to what did you owe the pleasure?”
“They’re keeping us. Want us back on the road as soon as I clean up some of my shit here.”
Staring over at me, he sat silently while he seemed to absorb it, like he was rearranging the fate he’d already accepted and was making it something new. Then he just gave a quick nod. “Thank fuck.”
“Thank fuck,” I mumbled around an exhaled breath, wondering why there wasn’t a whole lot of joy surrounding it.
“You stickin’ around tonight?” Lyrik asked, still ignoring the chick who was working on undoing his fly. “We’re heading over to Kie’s. Looks like you could use a little something to help you unwind.”
Fucker had the nerve to smirk at me.
I just shook my head. “Nah, man. Austin’s hanging back at the house. I’m going to head home.”
The bitch at his side pouted. “You sure you don’t want to join in?”