by J. M. Nevins
Sully met Spencer’s eyes, feeling a moment of intense gravity for his actions. The clarity was startlingly sobering. “I deserved everything you said.”
Seeing that Spencer remained unfazed, he became more desperate and his tone attempted to persuade and plead with his brother-in-law. “Spence, just give me another shot. I can quit the blow once I’m done with the tour. Out here on the road, it’s just… this tour is hell on earth. You know that. It’s constant. It doesn’t stop and I honestly don’t know how to handle it. I know that’s no excuse. I am sorry. I am. I need help.”
Spencer’s blue-green eyes narrowed. “Sorry isn’t going to cut it this time, Sully, ‘cuz I don’t really feel like you mean it. Not now. It’s way too late for that. You’ve done this to Kit over and over again. Was there ever a time when you weren’t fucking someone behind her back on a tour or using?
Sully shook his head and held his hand up to interject. “Hey now, wait. Ok, yes, I messed up and I kissed a groupie. I’m sorry and I’m not proud of that momentary lapse in judgment. But, you gotta hear me Spence, I never screwed around on Kit before and I told Kit that the other day too. I’m not fucking anyone else nor have I been. I think there’s a big misunderstanding going on here. When I kissed that groupie it was an isolated incidence and it was severely poor judgment. Believe me, I wish I could take it back. And yeah, maybe I have been off the chain with the drugs this tour. I’m human, Spence.”
His steel-blue eyes narrowed. “Put yourself in my shoes for a minute, ok? You sit back in your cushy corner office everyday negotiating deals. You maybe work about ten hours, maybe sixteen if things are crazy. You travel on your schedule. You get to be in either New York or L.A. consistently. And you get to wake up in your own bed a fair amount of time.
Incensed, he shook his head and stood up. “Try being in a different city every fucking day. One fucking hotel room after another. Try getting up on stage almost every night when you don’t feel like it. Try walking out to your limousine and getting mobbed by fans and getting your hair pulled out because they want a lock of it or getting mobbed by them when security can’t get their shit together. Try that, Spence, and see how you do. I get it, I signed up for this. I did.”
His eyes met Spencer’s again. “Yes, my coping mechanisms probably aren’t the best, but I’ve got a show to do. And I’m seeing this tour through. There’s more on the line than my ego here. Do you get that?”
He took one step forward and looked intently at Spencer. “This tour employs a team of eighty-seven people. If we cut it off, the majority of those people stop getting a paycheck. Some of ‘em are barely making it. Some of ‘em have families to provide for—they send money home every week.”
He shook his head and huffed. “So yeah, we may lose millions if we stop tomorrow, but what about them, Spence, huh? Gypsy Tango isn’t just a band, we’re a machine and an employer. We have a responsibility to our fans and our team. And I take that really seriously. So if you’re gonna condemn me for that—fine. Fuck it. Go ahead. The show must go on… at least for the next three months.”
Spencer stared at him, startled by his outburst. He shook his head and continued. “Listen, buddy, where’s my sister in all this? It’s always been about you. Never about her. You were always giving her such a hard time for not being on the road with you or giving her a hard time for taking her career seriously and not being at your beck and call while you can’t keep blow out of your nose or keep your dick in your pants. You even went as far as taking on a side slice on this tour and you can’t even fess up to that. She deserves better, Sully. I’m sorry I trusted you with her. It’s not right. And we’re done here. I meant what I said earlier. Get the hell out!”
He glared. “Looks like my dad was right when he kicked your ass out that first time you came to our house.”
As the last words rolled off Spencer’s tongue, Sully felt like he had been stabbed in the heart. He couldn’t wipe the stunned look from his face. He felt tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn’t speak or move, he was frozen. Before he could interject, the sound of Sean’s knock on the door jolted him back to the present moment.
Sully swallowed hard, wiped a warm, stray tear and shook his head as he started for the door. He glanced back at Spencer one last time. “I’m sorry, Spence. I really am, but I think you need to get your facts straight.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “A side slice? Are you implying that I have a girlfriend out here on the road? Now you’re the one talking crazy. You’ve got some incorrect info there. Do I deny the drug use? No, I don’t. But don’t go saying I can’t keep my dick in my pants. All I did was kiss that groupie. That’s all.”
He opened the door and headed into the hallway with Sean hearing the door click closed behind him. He took a few steps and then stopped. “I just need a minute, Sean.”
Sean tapped his watch. “We don’t have a fucking minute, Foxx.”
Sully looked at him and glared. He raised his voice. “Gimme a fucking minute, I said!” He stormed off down the hall and stopped again, leaning his back against the wall to support his weight.
He squinted his eyes closed as if trying to make it all go away. He raised his fingers to his eyes to keep the tears from rolling down his cheeks. He found that seconds later, his knees buckled beneath him and he slumped down to the floor.
He felt like a massive part of the foundation of his life was cracking wide open beneath him and he was in danger of being swallowed up by the pull of it. He opened his eyes again, let out a sigh and stared straight ahead. He remained silent as he flagged Sean over and headed out of the hotel doing his best to hold his head high, not saying one word.
* * *
With so much of her life changing in mere moments strung together, Kit found she was more introspective than usual. As the days got closer to her trip to fly out and meet with Sully, she knew much had to take place.
Wes had learned through his real estate broker contact that a house was purchased in Malibu seven months prior and just like Moira mentioned, it was purchased when Sully was home for a few days on a tour break. After meeting with the business planner that managed their joint accounts, she came to find out that there was no way he used their joint accounts for the purchase. All the money was accounted for.
If Sully did buy that house, it came from one of his personal accounts. She thought the realization that he didn’t use the funds from their joint accounts would make her feel better, but it didn’t. The realization that he bought a house and didn’t tell her left her feeling unsettled and wondering if he bought it for his mistress. The mere thought of that alone, felt devastating.
In her silent reflection over the last three days, she came to the realization she had spent most of her life betraying herself—her wants, her needs, her desires: burying them deep down inside of her. Each time she did that, it was like a chink was taken out of her soul armor.
Every day she was getting clarity on who she wanted to show up as and it was going to shock everyone, except maybe Alexa. Alexa had known her since they were small children and could read her like a book. Everyone else had a certain container they had placed Kit in and she was sick of it. She wanted to break free.
Although she loved Sully with all of her heart and knew she would for the rest of her years on earth, it was time to let him go. She reviewed all the way back to when they met, a good memory for her and found herself giggling. They had been such a strong team, both invested in each other’s success from day one.
She looked back on their marriage and noticed a different story. They hadn’t had much of a normal relationship. They got married at what they thought was the height of his fame, guessing they could handle it, having no idea of what was to come, including his career and fame taking a stratospheric trajectory. He had been on the road or in the studio or doing promos and when he was off, she was in the studio producing or in meetings for Diamond. She couldn’t remember the last time they watched a movie together or had a date ni
ght and she felt deep regret over it.
The root of the relationship was the problem, Kit realized. She was the one helping him make decisions and it had been that way from the start. That was fine when she was strictly his manager and his friend, but as their relationship morphed into romance and became more serious, it put a tremendous strain on both of them. She had ended up taking care of him instead of being the one taken care of. She was sick of it.
Not only had she been taking care of him, she had been taking care of the band, some of the artists she had produced and some of the other bands she had managed. It was a pattern that started in her childhood. She was the big emotional support to her father because her mother was an alcoholic, prescription drug addicted train wreck. The memories were all crystal clear now and she was mad as hell.
With her medical leave, she had more than enough time to work through all of this and she found it a blessing. This was her rise from the ashes—her phoenix moment. Her hand trembled as she held the business card in between her two fingers, cradled the phone on her shoulder and dialed the phone number.
The receptionist’s voice answered. “Maddox, Thompson and Phillips.”
She gulped. “Lizbeth Phillips, please. This is Kit McKenna. I’ve been referred by Ria Michaelson.”
“One moment, please, Ms. McKenna.”
Lizbeth Phillips was one of the best divorce attorneys in the Los Angeles. Lizbeth understood discretion and much would be needed in this case. The majority of her clients were celebrities or public figures with high visibility.
“Hello Ms. McKenna, Lizbeth Phillips here.”
Kit took a deep breath before she started. “Hi, Lizbeth. Ria recommended you. I’d like to discuss… um… possibilities.” She let out a long sigh.
“I understand. Everything we discuss will be completely confidential, even if you decide not to go forward. Would you like to book a time to come into my office this week?”
Kit was eager and didn’t want to waste time for fear of changing her mind. “How about today? Do you have time later today?”
* * *
Moira squeezed her hand and gave her a hopeful look. “Please don’t let this discourage you. You’re young. You’ve got your entire life in front of you. Plenty of time, dear.”
She nodded, feeling awkward. Moira had only been there a few minutes. They were drinking tea and engaging in small talk. Only two days prior, Kit had made the final decision to look seriously into a legal separation from Sully in Lizbeth’s office in Century City.
Lizbeth was doing some initial discovery around the Malibu house and suggested they get more information before filing as this could help Kit and her case. It still weighed heavily on her mind knowing that before she stepped on a plane later that week to see Sully, their legal separation would be filed.
Her insider information was affecting her behavior toward Moira and she knew it. She felt uncomfortable and wanted to blurt out everything like word vomit, but she knew better.
She had to warm this one up, kind of like cooking a frog. The frog doesn’t know it’s getting cooked to death when it’s placed in the pot with water. Even as the heat gradually increases, the frog has no idea he’s done for.
Kit knew the news she was going to share with Moira could potentially kill her spirit. It would affect their relationship, her relationship with Sully and possibly have some aftershocks to the charitable foundation they had established not too long ago.
She realized the best way to approach this was one unit at a time. A thanksgiving turkey is never ingested all in one sitting. It’s carved, served and eaten morsel by morsel. This would be no different.
CHAPTER 9
Moira automatically went into fussing over Kit, wanting to ensure that she was feeling good and comfortable.
Kit grinned. “I’m ok, really. Mom, have a seat. I’d like to talk.”
She nodded her head. “Of course, honey. I’m here for you.” She sipped her tea.
Kit knew Moira didn’t see this coming. She could feel it and that didn’t make things any easier. It was time to pull out the carving knife and start hacking away. “Mom, have you talked to Sully lately?”
She shook her head. “No. I know things get crazy when he’s on the road, especially this tour, so we don’t speak much. I talk to Danny more than I talk to him.”
Kit raised her eyebrows. “You talk to Danny regularly?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah. Every few days—sometimes once a week when they’re really busy—like right now. I will tell you that I didn’t approve of my son going back out on the road and leaving you here. I wanted to give him a piece of my mind, but he hasn’t called me back. Danny said things are crazy, but that’s all he’s telling me.”
Moira’s eyes narrowed. “I have a feeling there’s more to the story. We’re not going to talk about the shooting or the miscarriage, are we?”
Kit sighed and shifted her glance up toward the ceiling. Moira was good. She could read her like a book.
She took a deep breath and met her eyes. “No. I want to talk about your son. When was the last time you spoke to him?”
Moira sat for a moment in silence trying to jog her memory banks. She then shifted her glance back to Kit. “Aside from when everything happened with the shooting? Two months ago. He sent me flowers and called me on my birthday, but we didn’t talk long. It was a very superficial conversation. Lasted only a few minutes. He said he had to go to soundcheck. He was scattered. Not really there. Kit, what’s going on? Why are you asking me this? You never ask me this.”
She closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. Her green eyes fluttered open and she looked at Moira. “He’s got a pretty serious drug problem. There have been more groupies than normal on the road. And he’s got a girlfriend now too. She comes out for a few weeks at a time from what I understand.”
Moira shook her head in disbelief. “Huh? What? Are you sure? How can you be so sure? My son’s a lot of things, but a cheater is not one of them.”
Kit swallowed hard. “I have sources, Moira. Plus, he and I had a discussion before he went back out on the road. He was acting erratically and displaying very odd behavior, so I confronted him. He admitted to his drug us and the groupies and left. I told him that I thought it best we separate so I could get my thoughts together. I’m going to fly out later in the week to have a bigger conversation with him too… about a legal separation and possibly a divorce later on.”
Moira’s eyes widened. “Divorce? What? You’re divorcing my son?”
Kit couldn’t face her. She kept her eyes cast down, staring at her lap, her head hung in defeat.
She sighed without raising her head. “Yes, I think so. I’m filing for a legal separation. That may turn into filing for a divorce officially once he’s done with the tour.”
Moira closed her eyes and shook her head. “You’re going to hate me when I tell you this.”
She raised her head and frowned. “Huh? What are you talking about?”
Moira sighed, unable to face Kit. “Sully has had a problem with drugs for a very long time. I thought when he married you, he’d settle down and be done with it for good.”
She stared. “Go on.” She folded her arms in front of her chest.
Moira wrung her hands as she shifted her gaze away from Kit. “He went to rehab for the first time when he was sixteen. It almost bankrupted us. His father still resents him for it. We thought it took. And it did for a time. He got really into his music and songwriting. He graduated high school, moved to New York and was in a few bands making lots of progress. He was pretty happy. He got the idea to go big with it and he moved out here to L.A.”
She sighed. “And then he was struggling. He didn’t know how to handle the rejection. The stakes were much bigger here. So, he started partying and using again. He had met you at this point. I remember him mentioning you. It was in the very beginning when you were first managing him and you two were friends. He said he was living too fast and need
ed to get serious but wasn’t sure how. He called me crying and asking for help. I told him he knew what he had to do. He went to a high class rehab in Palm Springs on his girlfriend Dahlia’s dime while she was away shooting a movie.”
Kit nodded. “I remember Dahlia. She was ten years older than him. Rich actress that lived in Malibu. She took care of him constantly. When did this happen? Was this when he said he went to be on set with her?”
Moira shrugged her shoulders. “I dunno. I’m not sure what story he told you, but this was in ’84. It was before Joe died. Joe’s death scared the crap out of him too. Kept him grounded and sober for a time.”
She nodded. “Yeah. That was it. He came back from his so called trip very focused. That’s when things started to take off for the band. He was on track for a while and then in ’87 he went off the deep end. He got out of control with cocaine as they skyrocketed to fame.”
Moira nodded sadly. “Yes. And you two broke up. During that time you were apart, he went to rehab in Palm Springs again to dry out. I’m sure you didn’t know that. He swore me to secrecy. He told me it would never happen again. And like a fool, I believed him. Here we are back at square one.”
Her eyes met Kit’s. “I guess what I’m trying to say here is I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never told you this. You didn’t know what you were getting into. I kept on hoping that you would rub off on him and he’d change his ways for good. He did in many ways, but ultimately he’s not able to shake this without some very serious help.”
Kit shook her head, infuriated. Her eyes narrowed as she spoke coolly, “You’ve know this all these years and never told me? He’s been to rehab three times and neither you nor he thought to tell me? I don’t even know how to respond to this. This is absolutely ridiculous, Moira!” She closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head again.