Nobody's Hero

by Melanie Harvey

  Oh, she might appreciate you. He could almost hear her laugh. But she could sure lose a few pounds, I know that. And she ain’t as pretty as you think.

  42: Payback

  The receptionist showed Carolyn into Walter’s conference room, which looked exactly as it had two days ago. Even the people were the same. Almost. Her editor, a man who worked seventy hours a week and read manuscripts in his ‘free’ time, stood against the side wall. Carolyn swallowed when he nodded at her.

  She saw her attorney, Mark Simmons, and raised her eyebrows. “Are you on the clock?”

  The only smile in the room came from her own promotional images.

  Simmons shook his head. “Just got here.”

  Walter rose to greet her. “And now so has Ms. Coffman. Glad you could finally make it.”

  She took a deep breath. “I am sorry. I had no idea this would happen.”

  He gestured to the seat she’d occupied during the last meeting. The leather felt cold through her stockings. Liz gave her a tight-lipped nod, and Carolyn turned to Natalie, but saw only the back of Natalie’s auburn head.

  Carolyn caught a reassuring nod from Simmons as he sat down behind a yellow legal pad and a thick file folder. He was paid to be on her side, but she welcomed the support.

  The publisher’s in-house publicist, who held an uneasy truce with Walter, sat next to Simmons, her hands folded on the table. Her editor took the next seat, to the left of Walter’s protégé, who regrettably wore a blue tie instead of a pendant with his name spelled out in diamonds.

  One new woman didn’t sit down. She leaned against Walter’s credenza behind him, sipping coffee. Her blonde hair was caught up in a ponytail, and her eyebrows raised into her bangs when Carolyn looked at her. She thought she saw amusement, but it couldn’t override the fact that everyone else in the room looked as if they’d come to her funeral.

  Maybe Rick wasn’t crazy at all.

  “Well, Carolyn.” Walter cleared his throat. “It seems we have a situation on our hands.”

  His tone struck her as condescending and inspired a rush of irritation. “I saw BET’s website, Walter. It didn’t sound like a ‘situation’ to me.”

  “I disagree.” Walter opened a red folder and tossed the picture from the Yankee game onto the table. “Nathan Pletz, amateur photographer. Seems everyone has a camera clipped to his belt these days.”

  Walter made the photo — could she keep that copy? — sound like sex, lies and videotape.

  “We don’t have pictures from the club. Not of you anyway.” He tossed another, the alley wall a graffiti rainbow splashed behind Rick.

  “But Mykah Priest stated that she was there,” Blue Tie said.

  “Well, I was — ”

  Liz rested a hand on her arm, and she stopped.

  “Where a fight,” Walter said, “with or without weapons, nearly or actually broke out, depending on who’s talking.”

  “No, it wasn’t anything — ”

  “ — and it’s looking now,” Walter said, raising his voice over hers, “as though you met him Monday night on the Late Show and have spent every waking moment since then with him.”

  Some of the sleeping ones too. Carolyn gritted her teeth.

  “Frankly, I’m surprised you made our meeting,” Walter said with a smile. She glanced around and saw no others, other than a possible smirk from the blonde in the corner.

  “Look, Mr. Landrieu,” Carolyn said, and he raised his eyebrows. “I realize Rick doesn’t appear — ”

  “Hold that thought for a moment, Ms. Coffman,” Walter said. “I do understand appearances can be deceiving.”

  Her fists clenched under the table.

  “However — ” Walter pulled a few more pieces of paper from the red folder “ — our publicity for your books and scheduled speaking engagements has been compromised.”

  She had the sense that Walter was being euphemistic. He’d only ever been euphemistic before about one thing. “Because he’s white?”

  He held her gaze for a long moment. “There are still many people in this country — ”

  “But they wouldn’t dare say it out loud,” Carolyn said.

  Liz’s grip tightened on a water glass. “They don’t have to speak to keep their money in their pockets.”

  Walter held up a hand when Carolyn opened her mouth. “That’s the bottom line. However, I would love it if he were just white. A white dogwalker, a white pilot, a white Walmart greeter.”

  “Walter. He doesn’t rap about guns or drugs or anything criminal — ”

  “This is what’s going out on the news wires,” Walter said. “God knows how many people will pick it up. The name of the game is ‘scandal’ you see. The quote they’re using goes like this: I’m a get on the internet track down the offenders/you know the ones I mean? the ones that gotta register.”

  He held a gaze for a long moment. “I believe it’s still a crime to organize a gang rape.”

  I know what it sounds like. Most evil thing I could think of. Carolyn closed her eyes.

  “They summarize the rest,” Walter said.

  “Copyright,” Simmons said. She glanced at him and he shrugged. “A couple of lines is fair use, for news reporting. Any more than that they could be liable for damages.”

  “It hardly matters,” Walter said. “The summary is quite enough. Passing out his girlfriend’s address to these predators, leaving the door unlocked himself.”

  The faces around the table were grim. No one would meet her eyes.

  Except Walter. “Then sitting outside on the hood of his car — with a beer — while he listens to her — ”

  “I know what it says.”

  Walter’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

  “It’s not new. That was on his first album.” A few eyes widened, and she shook her head. “Look, I know it sounds bad, but — ”

  “You’ve heard this,” Walter said.

  “Yes. It was five years ago, I … ” Walter took a deep breath, Liz looked like she was gasping for air, and Carolyn finally understood. They thought she’d just met him, that she had no idea. “Didn’t you see the show? They caught me on camera.”

  “That was Guillotine,” Blue Tie said.

  “Guillotine?” Carolyn shook her head. “A bunch of monotonous noise.”

  The blonde in the corner snorted, but Walter’s face grew hard. “Carolyn — ”

  “It’s a song, Walter. He didn’t do it.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Yes, I’m pretty goddamn sure!”

  Liz laid a hand on her arm. “Carolyn, please.”

  “It’s only words, Liz.”

  Her agent’s dark eyes pleaded with her. This wasn’t the time or place to lose it.

  Walter removed his reading glasses. “So let me get this straight. This man wasn’t a complete stranger to you on Monday night?”

  “Of course he was. I’d never met him before.” His eyes narrowed at what he took to be sarcasm. “I had all his albums.”

  “I see.” Walter sighed. “Well, Carolyn, unless you can explain this song away in a ten second sound bite — ”

  “I can, but I wouldn’t. Ever.”

  He studied her across the table so long she could almost see the wheels turning. Finally, Walter nodded. “I think we can work with that.”

  He didn’t elaborate despite questioning looks from either side of him. Then her editor cleared his throat. “You feel you can handle this?”

  Walter nodded. “I’m positive.”

  He stood up and Walter followed suit. So did Blue Tie.

  “Then I’ll leave you to it.” He bent down to whisper something to his in-house publicist, who scribbled on a notepad. Then he walked around to Carolyn. She got to her feet and took the hand offered to her.

  His grasp was warm and his eyes looked the same. “It’s good to see you again.”

  She could only nod. The tension seemed to dissipate when the conference room door closed beh
ind him. Carolyn tried again to catch Natalie’s eye and failed.

  Liz leaned toward Walter. “What are we going to do?”

  “I think we run with Carolyn’s idea. She didn’t know him, she’d never heard of him before, therefore — ”

  The blonde’s coffee cup came down on the credenza with a thud. “Walter, I do not recommend — ”

  He spun his chair. “I haven’t asked for your recommendations yet.”

  “Walter … ”

  He turned his back on her, and the blonde shook her head. Who the hell was she?

  Blue Tie leaned toward Carolyn. “Who else knows?”

  “That I own all his albums? Rick does. My sister. My nephew maybe.” She tried to think. “My dad, now. But why does it matter?”

  “Family then?”

  She nodded, still confused.

  “We’ve already contacted them,” Walter said.

  “You called my family?”

  “And we asked that they make no comment. That’s all.”

  “I need to call them.”

  “In just a minute.” Walter turned back to the blonde. “Are you joining us?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” she answered.

  Walter’s jaw tightened. “Then would you mind sitting down at least?”

  The blonde held his gaze for a moment before she took the editor’s old seat. “I’ll tell you one thing, Walter. Nathan might have done you a favor.” She reached for the photos and held up the picture from Yankee stadium. “Because I wouldn’t kick this boy out of bed for eating crackers.”

  Blue Tie hid a smirk, and Carolyn cut her eyes from him, trying not to smile.

  Beside her, Liz stiffened. Walter wasn’t amused either. “Thank you Ashley. If we need to exploit that angle, we’ll keep your sentiments in mind.”

  Ashley raised her eyebrows at Carolyn. “For being one, either.”

  No one else seemed to appreciate her levity nearly as much as Carolyn did.

  Walter cleared his throat. “What’s going to be the biggest problem, Kijana? The ex-girlfriend?”

  Blue Tie answered, which made him Kijana, and Carolyn wondered how she could have forgotten that. “There’s no record of her ever talking about him. And she’s a jilted ex-girlfriend even if she does.”

  “So tell me what the problem will be.”

  “Him. He’s a rapper.” Kijana reached for another folder and pulled out what Carolyn immediately identified as Rick’s liner notes, complete with Jesse’s pictures on the front. “She’s right, that song was an anomaly. Most of his lyrics — aside from occasional detours into tamer sorts of misogyny — have to do with racism.”

  Walter raised his eyebrows. “He’s white.”

  “I think that’s why they called him controversial.” He glanced at Carolyn. “Is he really this intelligent?”

  She wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but she knew the answer. She nodded. As much as she liked that Kijana seemed to appreciate that, Carolyn didn’t care. She just wanted to call her family, tell them not to worry, and go back to Rick.

  Kijana studied Ashley for a second.

  Ashley shrugged. “‘We took our life and made it into a song.’”

  His eyebrows lifted. “Who’s that?”

  “Atmosphere.” She smiled. “‘Watch Out.’”

  For what? Carolyn frowned. Atmosphere? “Hey, is that — ”

  “Oh, my God,” Liz said. “Walter. Oh, my God.”

  Walter’s gaze locked on Carolyn’s.

  — Slug? Carolyn wasn’t sure, but she doubted it was relevant right now.

  Simmons frowned. “What do they mean?”

  “They mean,” Walter said slowly, “that Carolyn is now part of Ricky Rain’s life.”

  Liz said, “Oh my God,” one more time.

  Carolyn leaned toward Walter. “I don’t think — ”

  He held up one hand as he shuffled through papers with the other. “When’s the next album coming out?”

  “September,” Ashley answered. “I bet they push that date up.”

  He glared at her.

  “Is that not obvious?” she asked.

  “It’s not helpful.” He turned to Kijana. “What’s the label?”

  Both Ashley and Kijana said, “Carnage,” but Walter kept his attention on Kijana.

  “Who owns Carnage?”

  Kijana glanced at Ashley, but she shook her head, and he answered. “Gage Landry. He started it when he left Sony.”

  Walter leaned back in his chair, his urgent paper shuffling forgotten. “Gage Landry? I’ve known him since … ” He shot a look at Ashley. “For all the good that does us.”

  “He does love selling lots of records,” Ashley said.

  Walter stood up. “Fine. Is anybody in particular producing him?”

  Ashley, Kijana, and Carolyn all answered. “Zeus.”

  At that single moniker, Walter appeared to believe that the gods themselves granted him absolution. He returned to his seat and rested his hands on the brass buttons of his vest.

  “Young Mr. Rawlins,” he said, smiling at Kijana. “Why is he producing this nobody?”

  Bile rose into Carolyn’s throat, but Ashley’s sympathetic look eased it back down.

  “Never mind,” Walter said. “We’re clear.”

  Why did Carolyn’s nerves start humming when Walter looked pleased?

  “How?” Liz asked.

  “Because Zachariah Rawlins is Mose Rawlins’s nephew.”

  Both Liz and Simmons said: “The trombone player?”

  “The world renowned trombone player,” he said. “Which as we know, doesn’t mean he’s the best.”

  “He just had a great publicist,” Kijana said, putting his protégé hat back on.

  Walter nodded. “He also had a nephew who was sure he had the talent to make it as a hip-hop producer. Hard to break into without some connections.” He gave Kijana a disappointed look. “Why didn’t you tell me this right away?”

  Kijana didn’t answer, and Carolyn thought he looked suitably chastised.

  “So what are you saying?” Liz asked.

  “I provided the connections. Young Mr. Rawlins owes me, and I’ve never had any need to come calling in the favor.”

  “Um … ”

  Walter raised his eyebrows. So far Ashley hadn’t said much to please him.

  Ashley clucked her tongue. “I don’t think that’s going to work.”

  This time, Walter smiled. “And why not?”

  “If you’re wanting to ask Zeus to keep Ricky Rain under control.”

  Carolyn’s throat closed up. She managed to find her voice. “You can’t do that.”

  Liz hushed her. “This isn’t about you, Carolyn.”

  “It’s all about me!” Because of me. Damn it. She shook off Liz’s hand and turned to her lawyer. “Can he do this?”

  Simmons seemed unsettled by her demand. “It’s not really my area.”

  “But isn’t it extortion? Or blackmail?”

  “Not unless … ” He glanced at Walter. “Some sort of threat?”

  “Of course not,” Walter said smoothly. “Just calling in a favor.”

  “But what are you going to ask Zeus?” Carolyn leaned on the table. “To stop producing Rick? He’s already — ”

  Worried. She clamped the word back when Walter’s eyebrows lifted.

  “It’s irrelevant,” Ashley said. “He won’t.”

  She sounded so full of conviction that Carolyn stared as if she was the doctor who’d brought the crash cart into the emergency room.

  “Ashley,” Walter said, his tone more irritated.

  “I’m telling you it won’t work. Call him up.”

  Carolyn leaned back. Natalie wouldn’t look at her, Liz’s pat on her arm was perfunctory, but Ashley’s clipped words calmed her heart. Who was this woman?

  “Look,” Ashley said, leaning into Walter’s radius of annoyance. “I called you because Stephanie called me.”

  “The last
time you’ve been useful,” he said.

  “Who’s Stephanie?” Carolyn asked.

  Ashley ignored Walter and answered Carolyn. “I went to college with Stephanie Landry. She married Gage the year he started Carnage. When their phone started ringing off the hook this morning, Steph called me. She loved your book, bought it for her sister.”

  Walter cleared his throat, but Ashley kept her attention to Carolyn.

  “Steph would have called me anyway, because I’ve been following the soap opera.”

  Walter sat up. “What soap opera?”

  Ashley leaned back. After a moment, she said, “There’s been some question about whether Gage is going to sign Ricky Rain to another record deal.”

  Hearing this from an insider, not just Rick’s suspicions, made Carolyn’s stomach turn over. Then Ashley smiled, and Carolyn realized there wasn’t much question about that anymore. Because of her.

  Walter held up a hand, apparently realizing he’d lost the authority in the room. “Well that’s interesting — ”

  His eyes widened when the blonde chick shot him a look to stop him. “Steph and I don’t usually talk business, but there’s been a lot of drama around Carnage lately. Zeus produces for a few of their other artists, and he and Gage have some common feelings about the recording industry in general. They’ve been friends for years.” She glanced at Carolyn. “Zeus just makes money off people like Guillotine. I don’t think the beats are monotonous, myself.”

  Carolyn grinned as Walter sighed.

  “Anyway,” Ashley said, “he produces Scorpion, too, and Scorpion tops Gage’s charts. The past few months, whenever Zeus is in New York, even if he has no business with Carnage, he’s in the office. Taking Gage and his A&R rep to the basement for another episode of the soap opera.”

  She’d finally gained Walter’s attention, which seemed considerate for the first time. “Go on.”

  “I met Zeus once, he’s a quiet guy, but in this case, everyone can hear him, threatening to take Scorpion to another label … ” Ashley lifted Rick’s liner notes from the table. “If Gage doesn’t sign Ricky Rain up again.”

  Walter’s expression turned scornful. “He doesn’t have that kind of power.”

  “Really? You thought he did a minute ago.”

  Kijana nodded. “Plenty of small record companies. Only one Zeus.”