by Abi Walters
“Everyone is looking at me like I’ve got a gigantic spider on my head.”
Anne tersely rubbed her neck, “Everyone except you knows the great news.”
Mia winced at the sarcasm in her boss’s voice. Anne had always been pleasant, even when dealing with bad news. She almost hated to ask.
“Which is?”
“As you know, Max overdosed and was found with substance and paraphilia on him. Possession is typically a Class A misdemeanor, but because Max had over an ounce of methamphetamine on him, as well as a handful of prescription pills, it is classified as a Class A felony. That charge alone is punishable by three to ten years in prison.”
“Fuck,” Mia swore loudly. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
“You haven’t heard the greatest part yet,” Anne said, her voice scarily flat. “There was a girl with Max that night who overdosed as well, but she didn’t make it. They’re pinning second degree murder on him.”
Mia inhaled sharply, her eyes wide, “No.”
“He’s facing up to forty years, Mia. We’ll know more this afternoon, but it’s bad.”
“I can’t believe this,” Mia muttered. “God, I told them. I lectured them about getting caught up in drugs.”
“You won’t be dealing with the PR for the case, either.”
Mia’s brows furrowed as she looked at her boss, “What? Why?”
“This is too big for you,” Anne shook her head. “You’ve dealt with a hell of a lot here, but never a murder charge. I’ve only ever had one way back in the nineties. This is a big deal. Monarch wants me to handle it.”
“They’re my band, Anne.”
“And they’re your friends.”
Mia fiddled with her fingers, “So, now what? Their contract is void, isn’t it? They don’t have a record deal anymore.”
“Technically. Monarch likes their sound. He thinks they’re the next Charlotte’s Drive. He could try to have Max record on bail, or he could bring in a substitute drummer. Or he could shred the contract altogether. We won’t know anything until this makes progress.”
“Burnside is supposed to open for Charlotte’s Drive Saturday at The Dark Room. They have a contract with Ward Industries. If we break that-”
Anne interrupted her, “Mia. I don’t know any more. Our legal team is offering counsel for Max. His parents are on their way. I will keep you updated.”
“Fine,” Mia stood and grabbed her handbag. “This is a disaster.”
“This is business,” Anne glanced at her. “You’re too close to those kids for it to be business to you. Now go. I’ve got a press release to figure out.”
As Mia crossed the floor to her own office, she noticed less people staring at her like a medical oddity. Her secretary quipped a brief greeting, letting her know she had a handful of voicemails waiting. Mia closed the thin blinds of her office as she walked in. She set her bag down and resisted the urge to slam her head into her desk until she forgot everything that was happening.
Once the suicidal bubble of emotion passed, she lifted her head and stared at the blinking red light on her phone. Nope. She decided to wait to listen to the calls and scanned the web first. Burnside was finally getting press, but not the way any of them wanted. A run down and afraid looking Max was plastered all over the internet. Speculation over his charges ran side by side with memorials to the young woman who never woke up.
She was pretty. There was a photo of her in front of the Gershwin Theater, dressed in a pretty red dress. Her blonde hair was thin and impeccable. Another photo showed her between two blurred out individuals. The three were sitting on a bench in a park. She looked so innocent and happy. Mia sucked her bottom lip in and frowned. The young woman would never experience theater again. She’d never get to hang out in the park on a sunny summer day.
Though her stomach churned, Mia read the reports. Hannah Burton was a nineteen year old from Pennsylvania. She was attending Julliard for drama, which accounted for the Gershwin picture that was being prominently displayed in the media. Reading through the articles, Mia wondered how such a sweet girl got caught up in with sex, drugs, and rock and roll.
What if I never woke up in that ER? What if Aaron had survived an overdose, but I had died? Would the reports look like this?
Mia closed the handful of tabs she had open and took a deep breath. Hannah Burton was a good girl who fell in the wrong scene. Mia, on the other hand, was a bad girl who had continued her bad ways into college. There would probably be no flattering pieces on her. She’d be another overdose from a runaway, problematic child of the streets. Nothing more, nothing less.
Mia picked up the phone and listened to the voicemails, a pad and a pen in front of her. There was one from Anne. A few from a panicked Tyler. One from one of Monarch’s lawyers. A couple reporters who had managed to get her personal work number. And a very confused and angry one from Grant.
Why the fuck am I getting my ass shoved full of reports and calls about that drummer of yours going to prison? Also, why is your cell not on? This is an emergency, Mia. We have a gig this weekend. You can’t have a gig without a drummer. I’m not about to lose out on this opportunity because you have shitty bands. Fuck. Call me.
Mia rolled her eyes as she deleted the last voicemail. Typical Grant. It was always about him. Begrudgingly, she dialed his number. He answered immediately.
“Finally! Jesus, Mia. I’ve been trying to call you all weekend.”
“Hi to you too, Grant. I only had one missed call from you.”
She could hear his scowl on the other end, “Seriously. What kind of PR agent ignores calls when there is an emergency. If you haven’t heard, your drummer is going to prison and we have a show this weekend. I did you a favor by agreeing to have Charlotte’s Drive play, and now everything is getting fucked up. I was looking forward to that extra gig.”
“How was I supposed to know this would happen?” Mia hissed.
“Burnside isn’t mature enough to have a record deal.”
Mia laughed loudly, “Are you kidding me? Nobody is mature enough for a record deal. You got Charlotte’s Drive signed when they were the same age as Burnside. Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re mad at me; don’t take it out on some innocent kids.”
“They’re not innocent! One of them is going to prison, Mia!”
“Did you just want me to call you back so you could yell at me or was there another reason?”
“Is the contract with Ward Industries void now? We’ll be out of a truckload of money if it is. The special posters and shirts are already being made. Not to mention the publicity-”
“Don’t talk to me about publicity,” Mia interrupted, rolling her eyes. “Anne told me we don’t know anything about Burnside’s contract right now. Monarch has been in meetings all day dealing with it. I will let you know what’s going on as soon as I get word, okay?”
“I was looking forward to seeing you,” Grant said abruptly, his voice long gone of any anger or frustration. It took Mia by surprise. She was quiet. He continued, “I know we’ve got some bad history, but I thought maybe I could take you out or something.”
“I’m seeing someone,” Mia blurted. “And even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t go out with you, Grant.”
“Right. You’re with Rich Boy Ward. Hey! Since you’re fucking him, you think the gig can still happen? You can be very persuasive with your-”
Mia slammed her phone down and bit her thumb to prevent herself from screaming. Grant had that effect on her. She knew calling Benson next was inevitable, but she wanted to postpone the phone call for as long as possible. They were in a good place. She didn’t want to ruin it by bringing business into the mix. Ripping the proverbial Band-Aid off, she quickly picked up the phone and dialed the number she had on file for his office.
When Thomas answered, she told him who she was and where she was from. He put her on hold, explaining he was on another call at the moment. She waited a few seconds before hanging up. She opened up her email and sifted thr
ough anything Max related. She had other musicians assigned to her. She had barely read through one email from a manager when her phone rang, flashing WARD INDUSTRIES in bold letters.
“Mia Barnes speaking.”
“Why did you hang up?” Benson questioned sharply.
“I can’t sit around and wait on hold all day. I’ve got other things to do. Did you see the news?”
“Don’t hang up anymore. I’ve informed Thomas that your calls are a priority now. And yes. Forty years?”
“Mmhm,” Mia buzzed. “This is a cluster-fuck. Anne took me off the PR for the incident, too. She said I’m too close to the band, and I’m not experienced enough to deal with a murder charge.”
“I’m sorry, precious. I know they’re… important to you.”
“I can cry on your shoulder about it tonight. This is a business call. I’ve got Grant gnawing my leg off wanting to know about the show Saturday. I don’t know anything about Burnside’s contract with Monarch yet. Anne said something about possibly getting out on bail and recording and playing, but I don’t see that happening. Is Charlotte’s Drive good to go even without Burnside?”
“I’m not stupid enough to pass a popular headliner up because the opening act is in trouble. We had only planned on having one act in the first place.”
“Don’t count Burnside out, yet, Benson,” Mia pleaded. “Despite Max’s fuck up, they’re a good band.”
“They are a good band, but how are they going to play without a drummer?”
“I’ll figure it out, okay? Trust me.”
“I do trust you.”
There was a brief silence before Mia switched gears, “So I get to cry on your shoulder tonight, then?”
She could feel Benson’s smile through the phone, “I’d prefer to have you crying out my name while you’re beneath me.”
There was a flare of heat between her legs and she swallowed hard, “I’d prefer that, too, but I’m going to need a few drinks after the day I’m having. Will you meet me at a place called Feathers on West 44th Street? It’s a few blocks from my apartment. Lora will probably be there, too.”
She expected him to decline, but Benson quickly confirmed he’d be there around six. When they ended the call, Mia texted Lora telling her to call her when she had a chance. Her phone immediately rang, and Mia filled Lora in on the hell that was happening at her office and about meeting at Feathers that night. Lora was excited to meet Benson and asked to bring Zach along. She admitted that they, too, had an adventurous weekend.
Without having to deal with Burnside’s mess, Mia found work rather boring. She tried to contact Tyler multiple times before giving up. She had even invited him to lunch to talk about everything. Instead, she ate lunch alone, scarfing down her cheesesteak wedged between two families of tourists.
Though Mia loved having Victor drive her around, she also enjoyed his absence during work hours. She enjoyed the active lifestyle that came with being a New Yorker. Instead of heading straight back to the office, she stopped at a Starbucks and grabbed a drink before taking a leisurely stroll. The fall afternoon was breezy, but she felt fine without a jacket.
She ducked in a few tiny shops along the strip. She casually skimmed vinyl at a record shop, silently moved through antique teacups at a vintage furniture store, and flipped through clothes and trinkets at specialty shops. She fell in love with a hip vintage store, making a mental note to go back when she had more time. When her eyes fell upon a pair of silver cufflinks that were worn lion heads, she knew she had to get it for Benson. They reminded her of him. She wasn’t sure if they were at a gift-giving point in their relationship, but she bought them anyway. She also splurged on a handful of organic bath bombs to use in his luxurious tub.
Mia had extended her lunch by nearly an hour by the time she arrived back at the office, but nobody seemed to notice. She tucked the tiny grey box that held Benson’s cufflinks in her purse alongside the paper bag that held her new toiletries.
There was an email from Grant waiting for her when she returned expressing his concern for Saturday yet again. She responded, letting him know Benson wanted Charlotte’s Drive with or without an opener. She tried calling Tyler again. Then again. By the end of the day she had called him nearly ten times, each going straight to voicemail. She sent him a text and checked in with Anne.
Her boss let her know the charges against Max were upheld and he had a court hearing the next morning. Monarch had been in a non-stop rotation of meetings and Tyler had been busy with the executive most of the morning, then left to meet Max’s parents. That explains his absence. Anne didn’t let Mia know any more than that, keeping tight lipped until everything was finalized, so Mia called it a day and headed out to meet Victor by the curb.
It had gotten colder, so Mia had Victor pick Lora and Zach up on campus. With their hands linked together and flush faces, it was obvious the two were already head over heels for one another. Lora bubbled about being in such a nice car, and she and Zach settled into a small conversation. Mia tuned most of it out and wondered what it would be like to have something so simple and pure. Mia and Benson had a spark so large it could be seen from space, but their relationship hadn’t exactly been smooth. Zach and Lora- they were like teenagers, giggling and stealing glances from behind their glasses.
At Feathers, the three settled into their normal booth. They waited to order food until Benson arrived, but Mia was desperate for a buzz. Pete swung by with a Long Island Ice Tea for her, a bottle of a hard apple cider for Lora, and tap beer for Zach.
“I can’t believe Tyler has been ignoring you today,” Lora said as she raised the bottle to her lips. “Any other day he’s tripping over his feet to be around you.”
“Any other day, but today one of his best friends was charged with second degree murder and a felony drug charge, so he’s probably a little busy. Not to mention his job is dangling by a thread. If Monarch breaks contract those guys are going to be screwed.”
“There have been plenty of musicians who have had drug charges, though. You can’t tell me all of them get their contracts shredded,” Zach said.
“It depends. I’ve seen it happen before. Burnside is new and in the middle of recording their debut album. That makes the possibility of them getting cut from the label a lot bigger.”
Lora went to say something, but her eyes widened and they drifted over Mia’s shoulder. She closed her mouth and opened it again before whispering, “Benson’s here.”
Mia turned with a smile. He was still in the expensive suit she had picked out earlier that day. Running a hand through his hair as he approached their table, he exuded pure sex and power. Not like he didn’t any other time. He captivated any room he entered, drawing stares from every direction.
He paused in front of their table for a brief moment, his eyes on Lora and Zach, before glancing at her and sitting down. Mia introduced everyone quickly, and Benson’s hand found her thigh under the table. He leaned into her and stole a hard kiss that teetered on being inappropriate for the public eye.
When he pulled away, Pete was standing there waiting. He grinned at the two before taking Benson’s drink order of whiskey and soda. They all ordered a variation of a burger and settled into conversation. Mia had been worried about how Benson would act around Lora, let alone Zach. His hand stayed possessively on her thigh, occasionally inching upward under the dress. However, he held cool in conversation and flowed along with the banter.
Mia was on her second mixed drink by the time the food came by. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until the smell of the bacon burger wafted to her nose. Benson’s hand left her thigh and she cast him an angry glare. He shrugged his shoulders with a devilish grin before taking a bite of his sandwich. After a few silent bites as they savored the food, the group picked up on their conversation.
“We were probably twenty two at the time,” Lora giggled. “We were at my parents for Thanksgiving. My family shows up early for everything, so even though dinner wasn’t
until three, everyone was there by noon. Mia and I were in the living room watching the parade on TV with my dad and uncles and cousins while my aunts were in the kitchen with my mom. All of a sudden there was a loud crash upstairs and my brother comes running down with something dangling off his finger. It was one of Mia’s thongs. He was shrieking, waving it around on his finger like it was a dead rat.”
Mia’s cheeks wore a slight blush, though she chirped in with a laugh, “He was only sixteen and had the hots for me. He kept looking at the underwear and then back at me, yelling the entire time about how it was in his laundry.”
“The best part is that in all his commotion the thong flew out of his hand and into my dad’s lap.”
“Of course, out of all people,” Mia sighed. She looked over at Benson who wore an amused smile.
“Dad had a similar reaction. He picked it up like it was an alien and tossed it. The whole family played hot potato with Mia’s thong.”
The table erupted in laughter and Mia crossed her arms, “How is it that 75% of the embarrassing family stories are about me when I’ve been part of the family for less than a decade?”
“Because you’re special, Mia,” Lora chuckled.
“Very special,” Benson agreed, looking at her with a twinkling eye. “I don’t have any hot potato thong stories about you, though. Maybe we should change that.”
“Is that our cue to go?” Lora teased.
“No, it’s our cue to go,” Mia winked at her friend and nudged Benson out of the booth. “I’ll text you tomorrow.”
Benson pulled out his wallet and threw down a couple bills, more than enough to pay for everyone’s drinks and food, “It was great meeting you two.”
They exchanged brief goodbyes before Benson tugged her out of the pub with urgency. She shivered when the cold air hit her. The temperature had dropped even more. In just her short dress, Mia was practically begging to get sick. Thankfully, Victor was waiting for them. Benson didn’t even let her sit in the car. Instead, he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her passionately.