Page 44 of Feuds and Interludes
“Shane, you can’t be an island in a band. It has to be solid, with interconnecting and dependent parts, you know? A brotherhood, or the gender-appropriate equivalent.”
“But Iaman island! My band just ditched me like I’m fucking Captain Jack Sparrow.”
Lydia kicked my foot with her boot. “Does that make me Elizabeth? Shall we get drunk off pirate’s rum?” She chuckled, but the last thing I wanted was to get shitfaced.
I wanted something—someone—better.
“I know this sucks, and I know you’re going to freak out when it really hits you, but this is actually a huge fucking opportunity. Your band did you a massive favor.”
I frowned and sat up straight. “How do you figure?”
She spread her arms out in a grand gesture. “You have a clean slate. You are no longer limited by whattheycan and can’t do. You can completely reinvent Wicked Soul, or you can blow the fucking lid off and be fucking Shane Butler. You can do whatever you want!”
I smiled at her enthusiasm. I could tell she was building to something.
“If you hadn’t pushed me to confront them, I’d still have a band, maybe. And a mediocre album. Do I have you to blame? Or to thank?”
She bent over laughing. “I guess you could see it either way. Or you could see that you have three brilliant producers at your disposal, ready to work with you on this reinvention.”
I thought about what else I might have that I didn’t before we came up here.
Do I have Boone?
“If you don’t mind,” I said, giving her the eyebrow. “I think I’ll take the day to let this all sink in.”
She clapped her hands together. “Splendid. Unice is coming in this afternoon anyway and after she unpacks, I plan to whisk her away to the spa and then take care of her other needs, if you get what I’m saying.”
If I thought Boone and I made a strange pair, Lydia and her much-younger pop-star girlfriend had raised more than a few eyebrows when they went public with their relationship. Unice was wildly talented, and I’d heard Lydia had pulled a similar stunt with her, offering her an opportunity to make changes in her professional life. Personal too, it turned out.
“I need to call Pops. And I need to find Boone.” I was thinking out loud, and obviously the second item piqued her interest.
“Boone, huh? Rose said you were hanging out with Stellar last night. You guys squash whatever beef you two had?”
My cheeks burned when I thought of what Boone and I had been up to. Any beef that may have been there evaporated the second I kissed him. He was too precious for that.
“Life is short,” is what I ended up saying. “There’s enough shit in this world. I don’t need to make more. We’re cool.” I wondered if I was pressing my luck to take her further into my confidence.
“Cool?” She grinned at me. “A little birdie told me Collins has been strutting around here grinning like a loon with some new decorations on his neck. You have anything to do with that?”
“Am I in trouble if I say yes?”
She shrugged as she stood and straightened the cabin, putting my former band members’ chairs away. “Not if it’s consensual. Not from me.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Boone’s good people. His grandparents raised him right, thank goodness, because he went through some shit as a kid. I knew his dad, motherfucking scumbag. Excuse my language. And I’ll never forget the damn pictures of Boone when his mom was found dead. He was alone with her for hours, Shane. Those guileless blue eyes, staring into the cameras through a curtain of curls as he was led out in front of the damn paparazzi, daring the whole world to feel his pain just for a minute. I stillseethat pain in him sometimes. I know he’s a grown-ass man and all successful and shit, but I’ll never forget those eyes. Thank God for John and Vera Jean, right?”
“Right.” And that was another reminder. Boone had suffered so much loss as a child. I used to think of him as spoiled because he had his grandparents to care for him, but losing your parents like that, for the whole world to see? I might not talk to mine, but at least they were alive. Someday I hoped to mend fences with them. Seemed like I was about to have a lot more time on my hands. Maybe it was time. “Oh, hey, I heard you offered Bolder Breed to the Collins Foundation for the fundraiser. That was really cool of you.”
“Least I could do for Vera Jean and Bruce. It’s going to be a blast?—”
“And Bruce? What does Pops have to do with it?”
She blinked at me. “Oh, haven’t you talked to him? He and Vera Jean are doing it together. I’m so excited. They’ve got big plans.”
I stood there like I had a fucking cramp in my brain. Way too much information coming at me. They hadplans? Why the fuck was I hearing this from Lydia and not Pops?
I needed to call him. I needed to find Boone.
“So let’s regroup tomorrow morning, sound good? I’m happy to be here for you to bounce ideas off of, you know, whether it’s a Wicked Soul album, a solo project, or…who knows, a Butler-Collins collaboration. I’d love to get you two in here and write with you. See ya later.”
Why did that last one sound like it was god-blessed fucking meant to be?
