Page 83 of August Lane
Luke didn’t respond to that. He remembered those conversations differently—with her posing it as a question and ignoring his tentative agreement. The cowardice was mutual. “When were the divorce papers filed?”
There was silence on the other line. Luke closed his eyes. “Come on, Charlie.”
“This morning. Daphne held off to avoid all the Jojo drama. She thought people would assume I was divorcing you for performing with her. But God, you sleeping with her daughter is so much worse.”
“I’m not sleeping with her.”
She laughed. “Okay, Luke. Pictures don’t lie. I don’t blame you. She’s gorgeous.”
He knew what she was talking about. Those pictures told a whole story, one he’d been hiding for years. They started with August standing at the microphone with windswept curls and midnight eyes, looking like a sea siren in need of rescue. Then his arms were around her, his mouth at her temple, in a pose so intimate he could barely look at it. Thanks to the protest coverage, every local news outlet in the region had captured it on camera. The Delta Festival hashtag had been flooded with amateur photos and eyewitness accounts the minute they’d left the stage.
The timing was terrible. He’d just poured his heart out to August, confessed what he’d been afraid to admit to himself, that his career had stalled because he wanted it to. Moving on from his one hit would have meant moving on from her, something he could never do. There was no chance to talk to her about it once David walked in. Luke had been ordered to leave the fairgrounds and not show his face until he was summoned. August slipped out while he and David were arguing and was ignoring his texts and calls.
“I’ve known her a long time,” Luke told Charlotte. “She’s a songwriter.” He paused, remembering how she’d frozen onstage. “Asinger-songwriter. We reconnected, and it’s been… intense. This didn’t help.”
“I’m sorry. I thought I was helping by waiting to file. Jojo’s furious, right?”
Luke had no idea. David wouldn’t return his calls, either. “Don’t know,” he admitted. “But I’m about to find out.”
Luke knocked on room 105A three times before hearing movement inside. David opened the door and grimaced. “Right. Saw you left a voice message like a goddamn psychopath. Didn’t listen. What do you want?”
Luke was expecting the insult but figured it would be paired with a swift firing. But David stared at him like a pizza guy at the wrong address. “An update would be nice.”
“Oh, those are all over the internet,” David said. There was a sheen to his eyes that hadn’t been there the last time they spoke. He’d been drinking. “You two already have a nickname. LukeLane. Could get dicey since her mother has the same last name.”
“Have you heard from Jojo?”
David rubbed his face. “It’s hot. Come in and have a drink. Water, of course.”
Luke followed him inside, surveying the room for signs of a bender. It was aggressively tidy. The only evidence of occupation was a black suitcase near the bathroom and an open laptop on the bed. David grabbed a glass and removed the plastic covering. “Tap okay?”
“Not thirsty,” Luke said. “Just impatient.”
David snorted. “Want information, do you? That’s ironic. You’ve been keeping a lot from me.”
“August and I aren’t together,” Luke said. “We have history, but it’s not an affair like everyone’s saying.”
“Cry that river, Lucas. Get snotty with it. Still won’t change what’s in those pictures.”
“I’m not married anymore.”
“Mmmmm.” David went to his computer and typed in silence. He scanned his screen and then looked at Luke. “Not according to Google.”
“So fire me,” Luke snapped. “Then we can end this bullshit conversation.”
David sat on the bed with his computer in his lap. “You were not invited here. You were told to find a deep hole and hide in it until someone came looking for you.”
“Don’t talk to me like that,” Luke said. “I don’t give a fuck who you work for. You talk down to me again, and we’ll have a different problem.”
They eyed each other silently. David broke eye contact to bring up another website. “Jojo seems to think this is all August’s fault. Her daughter is angry with her for something she refuses to share and is lashing out by seducing, and I quote ‘the prettiest dark meat in my lineup.’”
Luke waited for more. The recriminations. The firing. David picked up his glass and took a drink. “That’s it?” Luke asked. “That’s all she said?”
“Yes. Your job is safe because of familial strife. And also because a lot of people hate your ex-wife. I mean,a lot. Black X/Twitter thinks Jojo rescued you from the sunken place.” He showed Luke an onlinemarketplace people used to resell concert tickets. “General admission is going for a grand online.”
What David was saying shouldn’t have been a surprise. Everyone knew that bad press could have a weird bounce that became a net positive for brand awareness. The messy tangle of Luke, Charlotte, and Jojo had ensnared August, too, only not as a burgeoning songwriter the way she’d planned. Instead, she’d been cast as the other woman again, only this time, in front of the entire world.
“I don’t want to sing that song.”
