I clench my jaw, giving myself a moment to settle. I don’t want to piss Trudi off too much. She could bury me in bad press if I’m not careful.
“What’s the thing, Tru?”
“Well, I’ve already got her paperwork done. She’s agreed to be on the show. And Barry loves the idea.”
“Fuck Barry. I don’t give a flying cow’s ass how many producers love it. They can all kiss my dick. This isn’t happening, Tru. It’s a bad idea. And it could really screw up my shit.”
I answer my phone as I stroll through the Quarter on my way to meet Buck and his crew.
“Fontaine!”
“Stephens. How’s it hanging?”
“It don’t hang. I have to throw it over my shoulder or it’d drag in the dirt.”
I laugh. “Yeah, that’s not what Murphy told me.”
“Murphy? Fuck Murphy. Oh, wait. I did. But, hey, I called because Russell and I are heading your way.”
“I’ll text you the address. I think the GPS will find it.”
“Sounds good.”
“You do know I’m not fucking you, Stephens. Right?”
“Aw man. You’d ruin a guy’s leave like that?”
“Sure as shit.” I can’t help but grin as I hang up.
Those guys give me a load of crap, but they’d have my back no matter what.
* * *
I hate the French Quarter.
No. Not the French Quarter, I hate being here with Buck, his merry band of Hollywood fruitcakes, and his ex-girlfriend. Mostly it’s the ex.
I tried to leave when I showed up an hour ago to find little Miss Blonde Scrawny-Ass staring at Buck like he’s the last cock on the planet. But, of course, I’m not quite finished paying for Aunt Delores’s house repairs and Buck knows it. So, cue the money.
I hate fucking money.
I’ve never wanted a lot of money, never desired things I can’t afford. I was fine plugging along on my own. And if it weren’t for everything Aunt Delores has done, I’d tell Buck exactly where he could shove his fist full of cash—right up his famous posterior, or up Arianne’s teeny backside. Yeah, that’s what he should do. Looks to me like she’d like some money up her asshole—she’d probably like money any which way she can get it.
But Aunt Delores fed me when Mom wouldn’t buy groceries for weeks on end. She helped me with homework. She convinced me that I could make it in this world and be better than the not-so-white trash the world told me I was. Later, she paid for doctor appointments I couldn’t afford and helped me fill out applications and forms.
I owe her. So, if I have to walk through the streets of New Orleans with Buck and his nasal-voiced ex, I’ll do it. And if I have to do it without putting my combat boot ankle deep in her stuck-up ass, I’ll do that too.
I won’t like it, but I’ll do it.
As we sit at a small table outside of a café, Buck has hold of my hand, his fingers entwined with mine. He keeps turning to look at me when Arianne talks to him. He’s barely acknowledged her. This should make me feel better. But the more she talks, the worse it is.
She turns to the cameraman, looking straight into the lens. “You know, Buck’s house is just beautiful. It’s set away from the city, but just enough to not be too far of a drive to go shopping. Right, Buck?”
His grip tightens on my hand. “Yeah.”
“When he and I get married—”
He glares at the camera. “We aren’t getting married. I never proposed to her. Don’t intend to.”
Her glossy, red lips turn up in a smile as she lays her hand on his bicep. “Oh, you. I know you want to surprise me, you devil. But don’t worry. I’ll be surprised no matter when or how you do it. It’s going to be marvelous, I just know it.”
He grumbles under his breath. “Fucking delusional.”
* * *
How did this happen? I’m minding my own business, heading to my car, and Arianne follows me, as though she thinks I’m giving her a ride back from The Quarter.
Fuck that shit.
I get in, purposely failing to unlock the passenger door. Maybe she’ll get a clue. Of course she doesn’t. She comes around to my side, knocking on the window. I roll the glass down.
Her blue eyes harden and she may as well be spitting venom when she says, “Now, look here, you tramp. I found those papers at Buck’s place. You had your chance, it’s my turn. You should slink off back under the rock you crawled out from under before you come out of this looking even worse than the trashy whore you are.”
How much jail time would an assault conviction cost me?
Nah, she’s not worth it. “Whatever. It doesn’t seem like Buck’s too keen on picking up where you two left off.”