Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 93957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
He turned the volume up on a song I didn’t recognize and stared out the window, effectively ending the discussion. I could have adjusted the sound and asked him what he meant, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
13
Johnny
“So whose ass do I need to kick?” I asked, throwing Charlie’s office door open wide.
“If it’s mine, take a number. Everyone hates me today.” Charlie glanced up from his computer, then at the older man sitting across the desk from him. “Except for you, Dad.”
The older man jumped to his feet and greeted me with a bro hug. “Johnny boy, do you know any stuntmen? We’re heading into the studio to shoot the new Baxter movie next week and we’re hiring. Charlie says he’s too busy to help.”
Sebastian Rourke was probably a year older than Sean with a leaner build and slightly longer hair. He wore designer suits, talked a mile a minute, and always seemed to have a deal in the works. I supposed that made sense. He was a high-powered Hollywood producer and the master behind the blockbuster Baxter Chronicles.
Charlie didn’t look much like his dad, but he definitely inherited his drive and intensity. One would think they’d clash more than they did. They seemed to get along well. Charlie was smart about asking for both of his dads’ input in business. Sebastian and Justin’s boyfriend, Gray, were partners when Charlie was a kid. They’d co-parented Charlie and were still the best of friends. Geez, some guys had all the luck, I mused, stuffing my hands into my pockets.
“Congrats on the movie. Can’t help you with the stunts, though. I do all my own and leave Charlie to deal with publicity…like that photo we said would never see the light of day. What happened, Char?”
Sebastian cocked his head curiously as he perched on the corner of Charlie’s desk, unfazed by my angry outburst. “What photo? Something salacious? I want to hear all about it.”
Charlie rolled his eyes. “No. Not salacious or titillating in the slightest. It’s sexy for sure, but it’s certainly nothing to get worked up about. Who cares if it’s on Instagram, Johnny? It’s your arm, not your ass.”
“That’s not the point. It wasn’t supposed to get that far. You promised you’d—”
“I did and I’m sorry. I have no idea who leaked the photo. It wasn’t me.”
I stared him down for a long moment, then flopped in the chair Sebastian had abandoned while Charlie showed his dad the social media post in question. “Do you think it was Clay? We shouldn’t be working with him.”
Sebastian snorted. “Really? C’mon, Johnny. A photo of your tattoo is not news. If it gets anyone talking about you, it’s just free publicity.”
“Thank you,” Charlie beamed at his father before turning to me. He fiddled with the collar on his striped shirt as he leaned forward. “There is nothing whatsoever tying you to Clay. Nothing. But you have to know that this is just the beginning. You’re on the precipice of superstardom, Johnny. Superstardom. There will be manufactured speculation and chatter about you for the rest of your life…who you sleep with, who you love, who you hate.”
“It’s ridiculous” I groused.
“Maybe so, but they talk about you because they love your music. They love the idea of you. They don’t know you. They don’t know that this photo bugs you. They don’t know why. And honestly, neither do I, but whatever.” Charlie’s curls swayed as he shook his head. “Look, I can’t protect you from all the nonsense. I’ll do my best, of course, but you need to let the people you care about know that there’s an element we can’t control. People will spin stories all day long. Promote your music. Promote your truth.”
“So you don’t care that there’s speculation on the Internet about me and Clay?”
“Nope. Not at all. It’s barely a story. Every photo of you from that dinner a couple of months ago looks like an uptight business meeting with bad lighting. To be perfectly honest, your fans would be a hell of a lot more interested in the real story.”
“No.”
“Ooh, what’s the real story?” Sebastian asked.
“Johnny has an older lover with two kids. And before you yell at me, I didn’t name names,” Charlie said with an impish grin.
“It’s not a story, Char. He’s not—it’s not…something I can talk about,” I hesitated.
Charlie eyed me intently. “Okay. Whenever you’re ready, you tell me first. It’s best if I’m in charge of doing the spinning.”
I nodded.
But I didn’t know if that would ever happen. Zero was revving toward a level of fame and fortune beyond our wildest aspirations, and I was beginning to realize there was a price tag associated with this dream. Privacy and anonymity were a freedom I might not have for long. The buzz in the restaurant in Palm Springs was a good example. It had freaked me out a little more than I’d let on.