The word dented even my happy liquor-and-pot post-show haze. “Really?”
“Yes, really. What do you have for me? And it better be good. I have a ticket right here beside me and I won’t hesitate to use it if you don’t have something worthwhile.”
Even in my current state, the threat landed as it was meant. I sucked in more smoke and tipped back my head, hoping like hell it would calm me down.
Don’t freak. Just stall him.
“I’m making inroads at his record company. Soon, I’ll attempt contact again.”
“Soon? What the fuck are you waiting for? For him to get wise to your past and shut down completely?”
My eyes narrowed. “I have to make it convincing that I want to be in his life. If I rush, he’ll get suspicious.”
“But you’ve seen him at Ripper at least. He must come there now and then.”
I grunted. I hadn’t seen him at all, but I didn’t think that would be wise to admit.
“Is he in the studio right now? There’s been talk of Oblivion fitting in another EP.”
I didn’t have the foggiest. “Donovan doesn’t let up on his people, especially if they’re successful.”
“What time does he arrive and leave? Is he usually alone?”
Frowning, I inhaled smoke. What the fuck was Jerry on about? “He usually travels alone, yes.” From the pictures in the rags I’d seen anyway. “Unless he’s with Nick or his wife. Though the gossip mags say Simon is a later riser than Margo.”
Ridiculous that I even knew that. I was far too invested in my brother, and not just because of Jerry’s demands.
He was a damn idol of mine, much as I hated to admit it.
“I need more than that. It will make it easier for you to present yourself in his path if you study his patterns,” he added as my fingers trembled around the joint.
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I didn’t like any of this.
“I’ll do what I have to. I’ll be in touch.” I ended the call before he could question me any further.
Christ, I couldn’t go back to my motel with all this in my head. So many questions and recriminations and regrets. I didn’t want to spend the night alone.
I couldn’t.
“Hey, Frank. Frank.” I knocked, and knocked again when he didn’t answer. “C’mon, man, don’t be like that.”
The partition came down. “Yes, sir?” His tone was frosty. Hopefully, he also wasn’t one to eavesdrop.
At least he hadn’t called me a fucker yet.
“Change of address. I’m heading to a friend’s.”
“What’s her location?”
I frowned. “How do you know it’s a she?”
“Do you play with both?”
I sucked in more smoke. I wasn’t high enough yet for this conversation. “She’s a she,” I said when I could think again. “Venice Beach area.” I told him Zoe’s address and the partition slid back up soundlessly.
With a sigh, I dropped my head back on the seat rest. Maybe this was a bad idea. I was running pretty hard after the concert, even with the sweet smoke sliding through my bloodstream. Zoe already thought I was the stereotypical rockstar in training. Showing up drunk and high with adrenaline buzzing through my system wouldn’t do much to change that assessment.