Page 123 of Syncopation
I’m just a guy who sings.
He could almost hear Zavier’s laugh and the words he’d probably say.You’resomuch more than that,Ray.
On the one hand, his lawyer said to lay low. On the other hand, he probably should say something to the fans. They did have an official Twitter account for the band, but Dom managed that. Ray headed back to the tablet and called it up.
Nope. No statement at all.
Well, something to talk to Ms. Gonfaus about. He was about to flip over to his personal email when his phone buzzedwith a text. He scrambled for it. Could be Mish or Dom, but it could be Zavier, too, now that he had Ray’s number.
Dom’s name was blazoned across the top of the phone.Yo. You up?
Ray let out a sigh of disappointment.Yeah, come on over.He sent the message, then headed into the adjoining room.
Wasn’t just Dom, but Mish, too. They ordered breakfast, two pots of honest-to-god coffeeand not the room brew stuff, and more breakfast food than three people could probably eat. But when it came, they all dug in as if they hadn’t eaten in weeks, sitting at a round table that barely held all the dishes.
Once Ray’d stuffed his face with enough pancakes, he sat back. “I got online to check out the spin.”
Dom gulped his coffee. “Some of it’s really weird, huh? Like the theoriesand all.”
“Yeah.” Ray soaked a piece of bacon in syrup. “But the fans are amazing. Did you see all the messages?”
Mish chuckled. “The fans have always been there for us, and for you.” She had herwell, duhlook on.
He nearly told them he didn’t deserve it, but Zavier’s voice loomed in his head, as did his touch in a simple leather strip around his ankle. “We should probably make anannouncement on official social media or something.”
Dom scratched at the stubble on his neck. “I’ve been thinking about that. Wanna talk to your lawyer about it.”
“She’s the band’s lawyer, Dom. All of ours. Whatever we do, I want you guys to be comfortable with it, you know?”
Mish nodded slowly. “You call the shots, Ray. We’ll back you up.”
“What about Zavier?” Dom was chewingon his thumbnail again, and Ray wondered how he managed to have any nail at all sometimes.
“I called him last night. He’ll be back today. And yes, he’s part of the band, no matter what the contracts actually say.” Ray wanted Zavier in his bed and life and in the band. He suspected both Mish and Dom understood that, too. But he wasn’t gonna voice it out loud.
They both were, as he figured,completely down with that idea. They loved Zavier just as much as Ray did, albeit differently.
Polishing off the remnants of breakfast killed a little more time until the next phone call—and this one still wasn’t Zavier. It was Ms. Gonfaus.
He answered. “Hey, I have Mish and Dom here, can I put you on speaker?”
“Of course.”
That talk went well. A couple of key things had happened,the largest of which was that Carl had confessed to trying to drug Ray. But he’d wanted Ray out of control, like the drunkard they’d originally painted him as. He hadn’t expected Ray to have a severe allergic reaction.
Ray had been pacing, but he found the nearest flat surface, the bed, and sank down onto it. “But why?” The question tore out of him painfully, taking a bit of his throat andthe sound of anger with it.
“I can send you the files,” she murmured. “Part of it was he thought you’d unfairly gotten ahead somehow, but most of it was, according to Carl, at least, that the label had an idea to market Twisted Wishes as a bad boy—and girl—rock band, and your fight with your former drummer played well into that idea.”
Ray was glad he was sitting, because he was shakingtoo hard to stand and his fury was burning a hole in the top of his head. “They...what?” His voice was too loud, too angry. Both Mish and Dom flinched.
Ms. Gonfaus was diplomatically quiet.
He reached down to his ankle and pressed Zavier’s bracelet into his flesh, and counted to five. “Shit. Sorry. It doesn’t matter going forward, but I’mlivid.” He ground the word out.
“As well youshould be,” Ms. Gonfaus said.
“They could have at least told us,” Dom said. “I mean, if that was their angle, we could have worked with them to use it? Rather than getting used by them?” He got up and took Ray’s place, pacing. “What a half-baked marketing plan!”
