Page 31 of Breathing Wisteria
Flynn
Iflop down onto the seat of the town car, the smile that has been fixed to my face for the last twenty minutes while I dealt with the press, disappears as soon as the door closes behind me.
“Guys.” I nod at Campbell and his husband, Simon. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Campbell assures me.
I slump into the seat, beyond pissed about this interruption to my night.
Once Connor has taken his seat in the front, I tap my driver on the shoulder. “Chris, I need to go to Wyatt’s.”
He was the one who picked me up in the early hours a few weeks ago, so I know he has her address programmed in the navigation.
“No problem. It should only take twenty minutes.”
“Thanks, man.” I fall back against the leather, scrubbing a hand over my jaw.
It takes me a moment to notice the strange silence in the car. You normally can’t shut these guys up, but when I glance at them, they are sitting tersely, side by side and the air is thick with tension.
“You guys good? Did I interrupt something?”
“No, we’re fine,” Campbell rushes to answer.
Simon turns and glares at him. “You need to tell him.”
That statement grabs my attention and I sit up a little straighter.
“Tell me what?” I look between the both of them, noticing how nervous Cam suddenly looks. “Tell me what, Campbell.”
He removes his thick, black-framed glasses and rubs a knuckle across his brow.
“We have a little situation with Giselle Cross, but it’s nothing to worry about, Flynn.” He offers a small smile. “I’m taking care of it.”
Simon shakes his head and turns to scowl out the window.
“Gotta say, I’m pretty fucking worried.” Giselle is a nasty piece of trash. I made a mistake with her years ago and she’s been determined to ruin my reputation ever since, portraying me as some kind of pussy-obsessed douche with anger management problems. She takes a tiny seed of truth and blows it up into the scandal of the decade over and over.
Anger creates a violent throb in my temple when a thought occurs to me.
“Does this involve Wyatt?”
Campbell slides his glasses back on and looks at me apologetically.
“She knows about the marriage. She’s threatening to go public with it.”
“Unless?” There’s always an unless with people like her.
“Unless you agree to give her exclusive behind-the-scenes access on the upcoming tour.”
“No fucking way.” I shake my head angrily. “She thinks I’m going to let her tour with us? She’s out of her fucking mind.”
“Wait a minute, Flynn, think about it.” He holds up a hand to stop my rant. “Think about Wyatt. Will she want her business splashed across every gossip magazine? We agree to this, and Giselle promises she can keep her sources quiet and she won’t run with the story. Ever.”
“So she says.” I scoff. “You can’t trust that bitch.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But we can get a contract and threaten her with legal action if she ever breaks it.” He sighs and looks at me resignedly. “Right now, we need to start damage control. I’ll start divorce proceedings on Monday. An ex-wife is nowhere near as big a story as a secret wife. Considering you’ve been separated for so long, it should be pretty straightforward and I’m confident we can keep it quiet with some well-placed money.”
That violent throb of anger I felt earlier multiplies in size as the words leave his mouth.
