“It’s almost like maybe someone’s trying to cover up this story,” said Tim.
“But why would someone do that?”
“I don’t know. But it seems like that, doesn’t it?”
“For someone to do that, they would have to have influence over every magazine covering popular music today,” said Whitney. She was pretty skeptical of Tim’s idea. It sounded like a conspiracy theory or something.
“Yeah,” said Tim. “Someone with a lot of fucking power. Someone with a lot of fucking money. Like the guy running Hurst Enterprises.”
“What?!”
“Face it. That’s who owns all the magazines. That’s who could do it.”
“But why?” said Whitney. The problem with conspiracy theories is that they always lacked a clear motive. “The story would make him money. Why would he care?”
“Maybe he’s killing the kids in the Entourage.”
“What?!”
“I don’t know,” said Tim. “Look, I’m beginning to think this is an important article. I think we have to get it out there, one way or another.”
“Well...” Whitney trailed off. “What did you have in mind?”
“A website,” said Tim.
That would mean she didn’t get paid for it, wouldn’t it? Of course, Whitney probably wasn’t going to get paid for it, anyway. Not if every magazine had passed on it. So, maybe he was right. If she published it herself, at least it would get read. And then, maybe she could move on. Maybe she and Ryan could have a nice conversation for once. Maybe things could return to normal. “Yeah,” said Whitney, “maybe I could go for that.”
“Great,” said Tim. “I want to help. Actually, I want to put the article up. I just need you to sign some stuff.”
“Okay,” said Whitney, but she sounded a little hesitant, even to herself.
“Let me call you back,” said Tim. “I’ve got a situation in the office.”
Whatever. Whitney hung up the phone and sucked on her rocks glass. So the article was getting published. Great. Finally. She was glad. It was going to be good. Now, she could focus on some of her other projects. Which she knew she had. Didn’t she?
She surveyed her office. Her desk was cluttered with empty glasses that had once been filled with liquor. And she couldn’t remember the last day she’d actually gone to bed. Or showered. Or changed her clothes. She probably smelled awful. No wonder Ryan was steering clear of her. She hadn’t talked to him in days. Hadn’t even seen him since the day he’d come into her office and bitched her out for drinking too much and concentrating too much on the story.
She should call Shane Adams. Tell him the good news.
Well, first she should probably tell Ryan that she wouldn’t be working on the story anymore. He’d be pleased. She thought. Actually, she was probably going to have to eat a lot of crow to fix her relationship. She checked the clock. Ryan was still at work. Still, she didn’t think she should wait to tell him this. If she were going to fix things between them, there was no time like the present to start. She picked the phone back up and dialed Ryan’s office number.
He picked up right away. “Ryan Flemming,” he answered.
“Hi, it’s me,” she said.
“Whitney?” he sounded surprised to hear from her.
“Yeah,” she said. “Listen, I’ve been really distant lately.”
“That’s an understatement,” he said. “But, look, I’m at work, and I don’t really think I want to have this conversation here, okay?”
“Okay,” she said. “Well, when you get home tonight—”
Ryan laughed. “Home?”
“Yeah.”
“Whitney, I moved out two weeks ago.”
“You did what?”
“You didn’t notice?”
Whitney felt her heart drop into her stomach. Ryan couldn’t have moved out. Sure, they’d been arguing, but things hadn’t gotten so bad that... She got up. Went into the bedroom. Opened the closet. Ryan’s clothes were gone.
“When?” she whispered.
“I tried to talk to you, but you were passed out on your desk,” said Ryan. “Like always. You’re a mess, Whitney.”
“I...” She was a mess? What had happened? How could Ryan be gone? “I don’t understand,” she said. “How could you have moved out and not told me?”
“I told you,” said Ryan. “But you never listened to me. You just talked about that damned article and made drinks. Sometimes I wasn’t sure if it was really even you I was talking to, you were so damned drunk.”
Fuck. Had she been blacking out? Had Ryan been talking to her when she was blacked out? Whitney suddenly felt as if her entire life had spiraled far, far out of her control, as if she’d been drowning in a black hole. She gasped and dropped the phone. Fuck. That was really all there was to think. Fuck.
Chapter Eight
Lark woke up before Shane did. It was afternoon, but they hadn’t gone to sleep until the wee hours of the morning the night before. Lark got out of bed and wandered into the main part of the bus. She was feeding the rats before she remembered what had happened in the middle of the night. Her nightmare, waking up...
Shane had kissed her!
Lark paused, holding the rat food container, and didn’t move for several seconds. Kissed. They’d definitely kissed. For a long time. Or had she dreamed that too? And more importantly, did she want it to be a dream?
The rats had gathered around her feet. They rubbed against her ankles, now, insistently. Lark looked down. Right. The rats. She was feeding the rats. She popped the lid off the Tupperware container Shane used to keep his rat food in. The rat food was called lab blocks, according to Shane, and some company in Europe manufactured it. It looked like what Lark imagined food would look like on a space station or something. A ration bar, all the nutrients packed into a little square that was a color somewhere between brown and gray. But Shane insisted that the rats needed to eat this kind of food. Apparently, rats had very complex dietary needs. They were omnivores, like humans, and it was important that they get all the vitamins and nutrients they needed to survive. Lark had to admit she thought it was kind of endearing when Shane talked about the rats. He clearly cared so much about them.
Endearing. Lark sighed. What was happening to her? Was she falling in love with Shane Adams? Because she couldn’t do that. It would be stupid. It would cause her nothing but pain. Shane Adams was a rock star. She was just Lark. They didn’t exist in the same worlds. And she couldn’t become dependent on Shane. She couldn’t let him take care of her, because...well, she knew Shane’s track record when it came to women, and it wasn’t good. Shane never stayed with a woman for long. If she and Shane started dating, or kissing regularly, or whatever it was that might happen, then Shane would undoubtedly get sick of her at some point, and then she’d have nowhere to live. So it was safer, really, to not fall in love with Shane. Especially because Chris Dearborn was so convinced that something was going on between them anyway, and she had spent so much time trying to convince Chris that her relationship with Shane was platonic. If she and Shane started having something going on, then she’d look like a liar. And besides, who knew what Chris would do.
The rats rubbed at her ankles again. “Sorry, guys,” she muttered, dutifully digging out some lab blocks for the rats and scattering them on the floor. The rats leaped onto the food, gnawing on it in groups and pairs. Lark recapped the Tupperware container and put it back in its place. She watched the rats for a moment, and then she walked over to the window on Shane’s bus. It was covered in a heavy, dark curtain, one nearly impervious to light. Lark pushed it aside. Looked into the parking lot. Let the sparkling sunshine penetrate the interior of the bus.
She felt Shane’s arms around her, from behind. She hadn’t heard him approach. He kissed her neck. Lark stiffened but didn’t stop him. Still. He seemed to feel that her body had gone rigid. His arms fell limply away from her. He stepped back.
“I fed the rats,” said Lark, turning to face him.
“Are you okay?” asked Shane.
“Fine,” said Lark. “Totally fine.”
Shane nodded. He moved forward again. Leaned down. Placed his lips against Lark’s. Lark didn’t resist, but, again, didn’t respond.
Shane backed up. “Something’s wrong,” he said.
“No, nothing’s wrong,” said Lark. “Everything’s fine.” She tried to smile. “I think you might be running out of rat food.”
“I have a standing order with the company. They send more at periodic intervals,” said Shane.
Of course he did. Lark just didn’t want to talk about kissing Shane. She just...
“Did you not like what happened last night?” Shane asked.
Oh God. Lark sighed. She sat down on one of the couches in the bus. On the one hand, she could lie, say she hated it. That might stop anything else from happening, and she’d already decided that would be safer. Easier. But. It was Shane Adams. And she... “Of course I liked it,” said Lark.
“But you don’t like it this morning,” said Shane. “You don’t like me.”
“Of course I like you. You’re Shane Adams.”
“Right,” said Shane. “Of course. I’m a fucking rock star.”
She hadn’t meant it like that. “I like you,” she said. “I like the way you talk about your rats. I like how concerned you are about your fans and your band. You’re so kind, Shane. You’re so generous. You’ve been so generous to me...”
“You think I’m just putting you up because I want to get in your pants,” said Shane.
What? “You can have any woman you want on earth. Why would you bother wasting energy on trying to seduce me?”
“Because you’re Lark. Because you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met,” Shane snapped.
“So you are trying to seduce me?”
“No!”
“You think I’m amazing?” Lark could feel her insides melting into each other. She was falling in love with Shane Adams. Dammit.
“Since the moment I met you,” said Shane.
“But you’re not trying to seduce me?”
“I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with me.”
“Of course I want to be with you.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Shane looked so frustrated.
“What if it doesn’t work out?” asked Lark.
“I think it will,” said Shane. “You’re different than any other person I’ve ever met. We’re comfortable together. We work well together. I like being around you. I want to be around you, like all the time.”
“But what if you stop wanting to be around me? I like having a place to stay.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Lark, you’re blackmailing me into a place to stay. I’m sure you can use your information to extort whatever it is you want from me if we break up. I’m willing to take that chance.”
“So to be clear, you’re asking me to be your girlfriend?”
“Lark, hell, for all intents and purposes, you already are my girlfriend. I’m just asking you to kiss me back.”
Lark stood up. It was stupid. It was stupid, stupid, stupid. She was going to get fucked over in all kinds of crazy ways. She should just get out of this situation. Go find another place to stay. Get out of Shane Adams’ life. “I can do that,” she said, tilting her chin and closing her eyes. His lips were soft and warm.
* * *
Whitney stirred her gin and tonic thoughtfully as she cradled the phone to her ear with her shoulder. “So you’re saying that you can’t get the article up online either?”
She was talking to Tim, who’d called to regale her with yet another obstacle in the path the two of them were on to get her article on the web. It hadn’t been easy, what with domain-name issues and a crashing server and a host of other stupid, silly problems. Whitney sometimes wished she’d never started to write the damned article in the first place. Still...it was all she’d been living for recently. Now that she really had nothing to live for at all, it seemed appropriate to think about it and talk about it often.
“No,” said Tim. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m saying, ‘It’s up!’ Finally. I got Tony to rework the code, and it went live exactly two minutes ago.”
Whitney put down the spoon she was holding to stir the drink and grabbed her phone. “Are you serious?” she asked. “That’s fantastic!”
Tim laughed at her excited tone. “It is, isn’t it?” he asked. “It’s been a long haul.”
“Sure as fuck has!” Whitney said. She lifted her glass. “To getting online,” she toasted the air and took a long, deep drink.
“You drinking?” asked Tim.
“Is the sky blue?” Whitney muttered. “I think I’m going to have to go to a twelve-step program or something.”
“Ryan still not taking your calls?”
“No,” said Whitney. It was odd. Even though this whole article publishing had turned into a fiasco of epic proportions, she was glad to have met Tim through it. He’d been a good friend. The two of them had chatted about things other than writing. She knew that Tim and his ex-wife were locked in a messy, nasty custody battle over Tim’s twin daughters, who were three years old. And Tim knew that her relationship with Ryan had disintegrated and that none of her attempts to fix it had worked thus far. Ryan, with good reason, was simply done with her. And Whitney knew it was her own fault. She just couldn’t believe that it had gone so far. She didn’t know why she’d been so obsessed with the article about Shane Adams in the first place. She realized now that she had been obsessed, as Ryan claimed. Pathologically. And, what was more, she couldn’t deny that she was still pretty concerned with the article. She was glad it was published, now. Maybe she’d get some relief. Maybe she could start picking up the pieces of her ruined life and putting it back together again. But it looked as if she were going to have to do it without Ryan.
“Well,” said Tim, “maybe he just needs more time.”
“Or maybe I have to realize I screwed up too bad to fix it this time. And do my best to start moving on.”
“Sounds like a healthy perspective,” said Tim.
“I try,” said Whitney, picking up her drink and heading into her office. “I’ve got to look at the site. I’ve got to see it. I almost don’t believe it’s actually published.”
Tim laughed again. “I know how you feel. It feels as if we had to fight the devil himself to get this thing out there.”
Whitney sat down at her computer. “Still the address you told me last time?”
“Yes,” said Tim. “This one is the final address.”
She pulled up her internet browser and typed the address in. Immediately the web page filled her screen. It was there! The article. On the world wide web for anyone to see. She’d never felt prouder of an article being published. Not even her first one in print had been this satisfying. She took another long swig of her drink. “Awesome,” she said to Tim. “It looks great. I don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done. I really appreciate how much you’ve believed in this thing.”
“It’s a damned awesome article. I’m just happy I got to work with Whitney Eros.”
Whitney rolled her eyes, but aloud she said, “Thank you.” She leaned back in her chair. “Well, I’ve got to call Shane.”
“I guess you do,” said Tim. “I hope he’s pleased.”
“Me too,” said Whitney.
She and Tim hung up, and she dialed Shane’s number. Sometime a few months ago, Shane had given her his cell phone number, instead of having her go through his publicist. He was that eager to hear about the status of the article. She’d never actually used it. She never had good news, so she never called Shane, even though she still got biweekly inquiries from him via email. She realized that she was nervous at the prospect of talking to him. The phone rang. And rang.
And a girl’s voice answered. “Shane’s phone,” said the female voice briskly.
“Uh...” Whitney was thrown.
She hadn’t expected anyone except Shane to answer the phone. “This is Whitney Eros. I have some good news for Shane.”
“Cool. Tell me what it is, and I’ll be sure to pass it on.”
“I’d like to talk to him if it’s possible. I think he’d like to hear this from me. I think it’s important to him.”
“Shane’s napping right now, and I really don’t want to wake him up. So, I swear if you tell me, he’ll get the message. I’m his girlfriend, Lark.”
“Shane has a girlfriend?” Whitney smelled a follow-up article. “Is that on the record?”
“The record?”
“I’m a journalist.”
“Oh. And you have Shane’s cell phone number.”
“He’s never mentioned the article that I wrote about him that I’ve been trying to get published?”
“No.”
“He emails me about it every two weeks, so I just thought it was on his mind. Anyway, your name is Lark? What’s your last name? How long have you two been dating?”
“Um, gosh, I don’t know if Shane would like me talking about it to the press.” Lark sounded genuinely apologetic.
Whatever. Lark wasn’t a common name. Whitney could hunt this lead down easily enough. She had other sources. “Sure,” she said. “It’s fine. Just tell Shane that the article I wrote has been published on the internet. I’ll give you the address. You have something to write with?”
* * *
Shane was really excited about the article that the Whitney woman had called about. Really, really excited. Which Lark thought was a little weird, considering she’d never heard him talk about it at all. On the one hand, it was good to see Shane happy. The two of them had been officially dating, or whatever they were doing, for nearly five days, and during that time, Shane had gotten so depressed that he’d locked her out of the bedroom on the tour bus one night. The next night, he’d refused to go on stage.
Lark had been planning to go to the concert that night and hang out with Rainey. She wanted to apologize for being angry with Rainey. Plus, Shane had softened a little on the idea of bringing Rainey back to meet him. He’d said it was okay if it was just Rainey, and it was just once. So, Lark had been planning to bring Rainey back after the show to meet Shane. After all, Shane was her boyfriend now. It made sense that he should meet her best friend. However, Lark never made it to the show. She was on her way when Mandy called. Chris, who was usually good at talking Shane down, couldn’t get Shane on stage. Could Lark please come backstage and try to talk some sense into Shane?
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