“I’m going to tell her we’re fine. She did what she did. I know why and I understand it. I’m going to tell her I don’t agree with her actions and I don’t want her to do it again. Then I’m going to hug her.”
“Sounds like you have a plan.”
“Always a good thing, right?” She stood. “Thank you for listening to me.”
“Always.”
“Want to help me stop being mad at my mother?”
He held up both hands. “Even I have limitations.”
“Chicken.”
“I prefer prudent.”
“Cluck, cluck, cluck.”
He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. In the heels, she was a couple of inches taller. She kind of liked how easy it was to rest her arms on his shoulders and lean in to kiss him. When they finally drew apart, she smiled.
“I do feel powerful. Next time we make love, I want to be on top.”
“Another fantasy realized.”
She laughed. “You’re easy.”
“I’m glad you think so.” He touched her cheek. “You okay?”
“I’m better.”
“You going to take the shoes with you?”
Had he guessed why she’d kept them here? She wasn’t sure, then decided it didn’t matter. “I am. They’re beautiful, and despite your pretty face, they don’t suit you at all.”
20
QUINN SAT ON the sofa, his feet on the coffee table, his laptop open. Pearl was stretched out next to him, while Sarge was on the club chair. Wayne sat at the dining room table, several stacks of paper in front of him.
“You have your lawyer look at these?” his assistant asked.
“Twice.”
“Then why am I reading them?”
“You’ll bug me about them if I don’t let you,” Quinn said easily as he deleted an email. “You don’t trust my lawyer.”
“No one trusts lawyers.”
“What if she’s former military?”
Wayne didn’t bother looking up. “She’s not.”
Quinn’s cell rang. He looked at the screen and saw a familiar album cover pop up. “You check the news this morning?”
That got Wayne’s attention. “Sure. Nothing about our crew. Why? What’s happened?”
“Nothing yet. Just want to know before I answer the call.” He pushed the speaker button. “Yes?”
“Hey, Quinn, it’s us.”
Bryan, Quinn thought wearily.
“Where are you? We’re at your place and no one’s here.” Collins’s voice was clear despite their being on speakerphone.
“You’re not dead, are you?” That was Peter.
“He answered the phone,” Bryan pointed out. “He can’t be dead.”
“Maybe we called the great beyond. It happens. Don’t you watch sci-fi?”
Quinn felt the beginnings of a headache. As a rule, he avoided bands. In the beginning, he hadn’t had much choice. He’d taken talent wherever he could find it. But as he’d gotten more successful, he’d been able to pick and choose. He could turn over a promising group to other people in his organization.
It wasn’t that bands couldn’t be brilliant. Of course they could. The real problem was the mix of personalities. Look at Tadeo. He was one guy, but between his wife and kids and entourage, dealing with him was like a meeting at the UN. With a band, you multiplied that number by all the members, plus twenty.
Even knowing all that, a few years ago he’d been sucked in by a group of teenage boys with amazing talent. He’d told himself it wouldn’t be so bad. That Bryan, Peter and Collins were different. Which was how he’d ended up producing music for And Then.
Their first three albums had gone triple platinum, with a string of eight number-one hits. But honest to God, he wasn’t sure it was worth it.
“Why are you calling me?” he asked.
Bryan, the singer for And Then, made a tsking sound. “Quinn, is that any way to talk to us? We know we’re your favorite.”
“Did you consider the fact that there’s a reason you don’t know where I am?”
Peter, the very handsome but not bright drummer, spoke next. “Are you dead? Is it cool being dead?”
“I’m not dead.”
“You sure? Because you’re not here.”
Quinn looked at Wayne, who was slowly shaking his head. “Peter, there are other places than here.”
“Like where?”
Quinn didn’t know if the twenty-four-year-old had been dropped on his head or had done too many drugs. Maybe it was a combination of both. Regardless, he was the best drummer in the business, and And Then owed a lot of their success to him.