Page 117 of My UnTrue Love
“Yeah, well, I heard her life is imploding anyhow. Something about her luxury sand-yacht and herd of jackalopes. Like zillions of jackalopes. Like aplagueof jackalopes.”
Clem wasn’t real sorry to hear about the woman’s zoological troubles. “With Rosalee gone, who’s going to produce your record?”
“You are! Like you did on the first one.”
“Absolutely not.” Shethunkedthe mug on the counter in front of him. Black. He preferred coffee with creamer. She preferred not having her afternoon interrupted. They were both making do. “I work with Bill and I don’t ever want that to change.”
“You’re supposed to be withme, not him! Everybody knows it. You need to come back to The Yellow Roses, so we can make something great.”
“I’m not coming back, Johnny. Drink the coffee, while I call you a buckboard taxi.” Wait, she didn’t have a phone. “I’m going to call onyourphone. In the meantime, sit down and try to get the liquor out of your system.”
“I’m not drunk.” He repeated scathingly, pacing now. “I’m so cognizant, I can even say ‘cognizant’! I’m thinking clearly for the first time in months.”
“If you were thinking clearly, you wouldn’t be here.” She reached into the breast pocket of his overwrought jacket to grab his phone.
Bill wassoright. That fringe monstrosity of a coat belonged on the Red River Gazette’s Worst Dressed List.
Clem jabbed in the phone’s code, which was Johnny’s birthday. It was sad she knew that date, since it was a sure bet he didn’t know hers. “Honestly, I amembarrassedfor you, right now. If you’re even a little bit sober, this whole mess is even more appalling.”
“A man will gladly make a fool of himself over his True Love.”
“We’renotTrue Loves.”
“How do you know?”
“Because it’s obvious! There was never any passion between us.”
“We haven’t kissed since we were teenagers. We need to try again.”
Clementine rolled her eyes, still ordering the taxi. “Don’t be ridiculous. Now, where do you want to go?”
Home would be best, so he could sleep it off. (And shower. He smelledhorrendous.) Johnny would just get into trouble, if he was wandering around, spoiling for an argument and feeling sorry for himself.
“I’m not going anywhere without you!” Johnny bellowed, crashing his palms against the countertop hard enough to make her jolt. “I’m not leaving you with that damn coyote!”
“Oh, yes you are!” It took a lot to make Clem lose her temper, but he was pushing her right over the edge. “I’ve done everything I can to be a friend to you, but I don’t think you’veevertried to be a friend to me in return. If you were, you’d be more respectful to my husband.”
“Respectful!? That son of a bitch ruined my life! Have you not been following Ti-Yi-Yo today? Do you not see what’s happening?!”
“What? No, my phone is broken…”
He cut her off, like he’d been bottling up the words hereallywanted to say. Anger and indignation poured from him. “Women are coming out of the woodwork, claiming I sexually assaulted them. Groupie sluts, who I slept with two years ago, are suddenly remembering they didn’t consent. One of them has already given Vulture Valente an exclusive about me putting something in her drink. It’s slander!”
Clementine felt herself go very still.
Johnny didn’t notice. “They want a payout.That’swhat this is about. You can see just by looking at them what kind of women they are. Why were they even at a party with musicians, if they didn’t want to screw one?”
Clem didn’t answer. She couldn’t find the oxygen. She looked down at his phone, which was still in her hand. Three clicks and she’d accessed Ti-Yi-Yo.
Johnny’s name was the first topic listed, along with words like “venues canceling,” “lurid photographs,” and “multiple allegations.”
Social media was on fire. Subscribers were fleeing The Yellow Roses’ official page. Vulture Valente was crowing about the scandal nonstop. Fans were burning Johnny’s records in effigy. Messages were piling up, the silenced-phone vibrating in her palm, as some reporter tried to contact him.
And there were at least a dozen pictures of women. Even with black strips censoring parts of the images, they were clearly drugged and naked.
“My God!” She choked out in horror.
“Ever since Bill posted his ‘support women’ message, more and more tramps have been coming forward with stories about me.” Johnny spat out. “They all think someoneelsemust have said something first, which is why Bill quit the band. They feel ‘heard,’ now.” He added mocking air-quotes to the word.
