by K. K. Allen
Listening to Terese gush about last night causes my lips to curl into a smirk. “Except Terese and Derrick were too busy sucking face to see much of anything.”
Terese waves me off and reaches for her beer. “Shut it, sister. You and Wolf are no better. He always looks like he wants to hump you.”
“He does always want to hump me,” I fire back. Everyone laughs, except Melanie. She seems to be pondering something.
“Maybe Hedge and I could be a thing. We flirt.” Melanie’s suggestion comes with a thoughtful expression, followed by a smirk. We all know she’s full of shit. Melanie flirts with all the guys. The only thing that makes Hedge stand out is the fact that he’s the only single guy left in the group.
“Scratch that,” Melanie responds to her own comment. “Rock stars don’t turn me on. Even if some do prove that it’s more than partying and fucking”—I think she says this for Terese and my benefit—“I’ve been in this industry for as long as the boys, and I’ve never succumbed to the rock cock.”
We all burst into laughter.
“A little rock cock might be just what you need.” Terese smacks Melanie’s ass.
“If I’m getting some, it better not be little,” Melanie adds with all seriousness.
Again, we laugh. All of us but Lorraine. She seems amused, but not as into this conversation as the rest of us—probably because her sexual preference has no cock size.
“You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about sleeping with a rock star,” Lorraine says to Melanie.
Suddenly, Melanie’s cheeks turn pink. “I didn’t say I’ve never thought about it.” She squirms in her seat, then waves off her own confession with a movement of her hand.
“Who?” Misty pries, pulling in closer to Melanie. “One of the boys?”
“God, no!” Melanie cries and we all laugh.
It’s crossed my mind that Wolf could have messed around with someone from the tour, but I decided early on that I didn’t want to find out. It would make things awkward with whomever it was, and Wolf has never made me feel remotely jealous when it comes to other women. Well, except for little Suzie, but even that is already old news.
Lorraine’s still stuck on the subject. “You’ve been in the business for what—six years, Mel? Don’t lie. Even I’ve done a rocker boy.”
In unison, we all turn to Lorraine to see if she’s full of it. She’s completely serious.
“What?”
She’s sitting next to me, so I tap her tummy with my toe. “You mean before you knew you liked girls?” I’m so confused.
Lorraine rolls her eyes. “Why does everyone assume I only like girls?”
I laugh, and I’m not alone. Looking around, we’re all a little confused.
“So you swing both ways?” Melanie shrugs. “That’s cool. We’ve only ever seen you with the ladies. And you’ve been with the guys forever. I’m surprised you haven’t done one of them then.”
Lorraine makes a face. “No way. They’re like my brothers.”
I sigh with relief, happy no one can see me. If I had known Lorraine liked guys, too, I might have been worried about her friendship with Wolf.
Terese stands up and adjusts her bathing suit. “Bathroom break. Be back, bitches.”
I scramble to my feet and follow her, hoping to find Wolf to see if he’s heard from my dad.
As soon as we enter the house, we hear cheering and hollering. The guys are watching a recording of some fight they missed last week. It’s not something I’m into, so the girls and I were happy to let them be. There are about a dozen or so guys in the living room and a few more in the kitchen. The chicks who were invited—mostly by Hedge and some of the crew—are scattered around, drinking and making themselves readily available for whoever takes notice.
Laughing, I continue down the hallway to the bedroom I share with Wolf to use the master bathroom. Using the tip of my finger, I move the strap of my red bikini top to check my tan line and notice that I’ve already gotten some color. After peeing, I reapply my sunscreen and then head back out to find the girls.
I’m approaching the kitchen when I find Wolf leaning against the island, shoveling a handful of peanuts into his mouth like he’s in a race. That’s when I notice the group of guys that had been crowding the television just minutes before are gone.
“Where’d everyone run off to?” I ask Wolf as I snake my arms around his waist.
He rolls his eyes. “Mel’s putting on a show out there. Saw it. Left. Just eating my peanuts and waiting for you.”
I laugh at his expression and stilted words. “What are you talking about?”
He tips back his beer and swallows. “Mel’s topless.”
My expression twists into annoyance. “And that bothers you why?”
He gives me a look as if I’m crazy. “It doesn’t bother you?”
I shrug. “Not really. I’d do the same if I didn’t think it would bother you.”
His eyes flash with anger. “No fucking way are you taking your top off. Nobody sees those tits but me.”
I stifle a laugh “See? But I guess I’m a little happy this is the first time you’ve seen Mel’s tits.” I’m teasing, I think. Melanie’s one of those hard to look at types, with her piercing blue eyes, light brown hair that manages to take on new streaks of color every week—and tall, modelesque frame.
“You’re not going to be pissed at me, are you?” Wolf asks.
Shit. I step away, glaring at him. “Why? What did you do?”
He shakes his head, pulling me back. “No! Geez. Nothing. She likes to do that. I’ve seen ’em before. Never bothered me before today.”
“Why does it bother you today?”
He chuckles. “Because I wasn’t in love with someone else’s tits before.” He bends down and kisses the top of my breast. “I don’t need them feeling all jealous and shit.”
I chuckle, feeling the tension release from my body, and then lean in to kiss his cheek. Loud voices interrupt us as Terese walks inside yelling while Derrick follows, frustrated and embarrassed. When Terese pushes him away and walks toward the hall leading to their bedroom, he pauses a minute before following her.
“Shit,” Wolf and I say in unison.
“See, that’s what I was trying to avoid,” Wolf says pointedly, pulling me against his chest. “Mel should know better with you girls in the house.”
A door slams, and Derrick storms into the kitchen and grabs a beer from the fridge, slamming that door, too. When he pounds a fist into the wall, Wolf pulls away from me and approaches him. “Whoa. Let’s go outside.”
Derrick shakes Wolf off and points to the patio. “I’m not going back out there.”
Wolf looks at me, and I nod. “I’ll go tell her to cover up.”
When I reach Melanie, she’s already pulling her swim top back on. “Shit, Mel.” I drop into my lounge chair with a smile. “We know you have nice tits and all, but you’re really stirring it up in there.”
She rolls her eyes. “I heard. I’ll go talk to Terese. I feel like a rock skank now.”
I frown. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t feel bad. This thing with her and Derrick is just new, that’s all. It’s natural for her to have some insecurities at the start, especially since he’s asked her to come to Europe.”
Lorraine rolls her eyes and cuts in. “Honestly, Lyric, if Terese is going to get upset about Derrick checking out a set of lady lumps, it’s going to get ugly if she comes on tour with us. We don’t need that kind of drama. You and Wolf are enough.”
My stomach rolls. I understand what Lorraine is saying, but it’s also unfair to expect Terese to accept things as they are without really seeing firsthand what this life is all about. Girlfriends in the business need thick skin to survive. Not that their men should get away with anything, but if there isn’t trust, jealousy can quickly make a relationship ugly.
Unfortunately for me, I had too much trust in my relationship with Tony when he threw up all the red flags th
at should have warned me away. Derrick isn’t like Tony, though. I know Terese will be fine.
Wolf, on the other hand, had enough sense to walk away. If he hadn’t, it wouldn’t have bothered me to the extent it did Terese, but the warmth settling around my heart makes me a little grateful for my own situation. I like that my man thinks of me even when I’m not around. Derrick could learn a few things from Wolf.
I somehow convince Melanie that talking to Terese won’t help anything—not right now, anyway—and we all toss ourselves in the pool to cool down.
A half hour later, Terese hops in with us and glares at Melanie. For a second I’m afraid I’ll have to break up a hair-tugging contest, but Terese surprises me. “Thanks a lot, bitch. Your tits are perfect. Happy?”
Melanie looks shocked until Terese cracks a smile, and then she lets out an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t think it was going to be an issue.”
They hug it out and I’m left on the side of the pool stupefied from the bizarre drama that just unfolded in front of me. How did Terese get over it so quickly?
Derrick takes a seat beside me … grinning.
I turn to him, impressed. “How did you do that?”
He shrugs, a cocky expression playing on his face. “I’ll never tell.”
Wolf sits on my opposite side and hands me a cold beer. “How the hell did you do that, you dick?” Wolf asks Derrick over my head.
Derrick is still grinning. “Precisely. She can’t stay mad at me. What can I say?”
Wolf chuckles. “Good job, dude. I was sure that fight was going to last the rest of vacation.” Wolf’s arm snakes around my waist.
I smile and look up at him, his sunglasses hiding his eyes. “I’m relieved, too. That could have been messy.”
Wolf leans in, touching his lips gently to mine. When he pulls away, he raises his brows. “Hey, your dad called a bit ago. Wants to meet up with you tomorrow. He says he won’t steal you away from me for too long.”
I smile. “I’ll call him back later. Do you want to come with us?”
He shakes his head. “Nah, you two spend some time together. I’ll be here when you get back.” A buzzing sounds from his pocket, and he reaches for it, sighing at the distraction.
“Wow, your ears must be burning,” Wolf says to the caller with a chuckle.
I open my eyes wide in Wolf’s direction, trying to get his attention. He looks at me. “My dad?” I mouth.
He nods, his expression quickly shifting from humorous to stony. Panic begins to grow in my chest. To my utter horror, Wolf pulls me to my feet and leads me through the doors of our bedroom.
We sit at the edge of the bed, my heart beating a hundred miles an hour in my chest. He pushes a button on his phone, and my dad’s charismatic voice comes through the speaker. I watch Wolf’s face, trying to understand what his expression means.
“Lyric’s listening now. Go ahead.”
Wolf is watching me. I turn my eyes down to the phone, dread growing with every second as I wait for whatever bad news is coming. I knew this life was too good to be true.
“Pumpkin, you there?”
“I’m here, Dad. What’s going on?”
There’s a long sigh on the other end before he speaks. That pause is enough to confirm every fear that’s now seeping into my system. “I talked to the label yesterday,” he says cautiously. “They were in complete agreement with me regarding your songs. But Destiny never showed up to meet them last night. They met with her this morning … and she wasn’t alone, sweetie. I guess Crawley was there. Turns out he’s managing her image transformation. They had your songbook with them.”
“Okay,” I say, growing angrier by the second. I couldn’t care less about Crawley and whatever position he fills for Destiny. “I just want what’s mine.”
My dad sighs again. “I know, pumpkin. I tried.”
“What do you mean, ‘tried’? I thought it was a done deal?”
“It was … until Crawley showed them the contract that you signed regarding the rights to Wolf’s songs.”
“You mean for ‘Dangerous Heart and the other two?’”
Wolf’s expression shows his confusion. He looks like he's about to burst into flames. “Those songs were signed over to me, Mitch. It was a three-song deal that included ‘Dangerous Heart.’ Besides, all that was handled by our label’s legal team. There’s no way they messed that up. The only thing that was missing on that contract was Lyric’s request for privacy.”
“Crawley has a clever way of handling legal contracts. He likes to doctor the final copies after they’ve been reviewed by legal and before everyone signs, hoping his revisions will be overlooked in the final review. But I’m not talking about the contract you and Lyric signed for ‘Dangerous Heart’ and the others. Those are clean.”
“What?” Wolf’s rage grows as he tries to comprehend what’s going on. I’m trying to understand too. If Crawley didn’t do something shady with our song deal, then what could he possibly have on us now?
I jump in. “I don’t understand, Dad. The label should be ripping my songbook from Crawley’s disgusting hands by now and overnighting it. He has no claim.”
“Pumpkin, it’s not that simple.” He pauses, and the sinking feeling grows. “All they can do is drop Destiny from the new label, and they’re doing that. They’re done with her, based on my word alone. But they can’t take the songbook. Not after hearing Crawley’s claims.”
“What claims?” Wolf growls, just as confused as I am.
My dad sounds helpless when he speaks. “Wolf, I’m sorry. Crawley doctored your initial agreement with him six years ago. Apparently, you boys were new and had an agreement prior to going to the label.”
“Right,” says Wolf, “and that deal ended the moment we signed with our label. Crawley hasn’t worked directly for me in four years. There’s no way that contract is still valid.”
By the sighing on the other end of the line, I can tell my dad’s already been through all of this with Destiny’s label. My balloon of hope is quickly deflating.
“You’ll need to speak with your label and their lawyers,” Mitch says. “There should have been a new contract drawn up between the band and Crawley the moment you were signed. Your label will need to take some ownership in this if they failed to rewrite those terms. That would be a major fuck up on their end, but still, you can win this. There’s nothing gainful for the band in that contract. The contract states that everything benefits Crawley the moment he gets let go. That alone would have a judge rolling his eyes in court.”
Wolf’s jaw is working overtime, clenching and unclenching. “What were the terms?” He asks through tight lips.
“If you fire Crawley, he gets royalties for all previously published songs and the rights to anything unpublished up until the time he’s released. He’s claiming he owns every single lyric written in that songbook since it was in your possession. He’s also sending notice for you to turn over the rights of ‘Dangerous Heart’ to his client.”
“Destiny.” Wolf’s teeth are clenched, his grip on the phone tight.
“That’s right. I’m sorry.”
“This isn’t over, Mitch. Why are you talking like it’s over?” Wolf stands, taking the phone with him.
I move toward him, trying to wrap my arms around his waist. I’m less concerned about my songbook now. This is years of Wolf’s hard work being stolen from him in the blink of an eye. Because of me.
He shrugs out of my hold as he moves to the window and places a palm against it. I freeze, unsure what to do or say to make this better. I know I can’t.
“Hell no, Wolf!” my dad says emphatically. “Look, we need to proceed with caution; that’s all. My sources tell me Crawley looks like he’s in bad shape. He’s hanging on by a thread, but you still need to play your cards right.”
The confidence in my dad’s tone fills me again, but I’m not so sure that Wolf hears him. His eyes are blazing, his knuckles white around his phone.<
br />
“I’ll meet you in the studio tomorrow,” Mitch says. “In the meantime, call your label and your PR team. Get them on a flight to Miami as soon as possible. We’re settling this before we leave for Europe.”
“We?” Wolf snaps out of his spell at my dad’s words.
“I’m coming with you to Europe. If that’s okay with you both … and the band. You guys need a manager, and I’m looking for a change right now. Especially if that change includes spending more time with my little girl. And when we win this war, I want to be there.”
My throat tightens with emotion, and tears immediately spring to my eyes. I look at Wolf, hopeful, but he doesn’t hesitate for a moment.
“I don’t know what to say, Mitch. We’d be fucking honored.”
“Lyric?” my dad asks.
“Yes.” I laugh, realizing how croaky my response sounds. I never would have considered this a possibility, but it’s like a dream come true. “Yes!” I say again, with more enthusiasm this time.
My dad chuckles. “Okay, good. Phew, I was worried for a second.”
Wolf looks back toward the window.
“Lyric,” my dad starts again. “I’ll call Davis and get him to Miami, too. He’ll be representing you. This is about to get messy, and we’ll need a ferocious team on our side.”
Davis has been my dad’s legal counsel for years, and ‘ferocious’ is a polite term for his methods. My dad’s never walked away from a case unhappy—even in cases when he’s technically lost.
Unfortunately, lawsuits weren’t that uncommon when I toured with my dad. He tried to keep my ears free from the shenanigans that went on, but I picked up on a lot. Once he was sued by an audience member when they fainted at a show. It was an outdoor show in Texas, in midday, on the hottest day of the year. The woman was pregnant but went to the show anyway, neglected to stay hydrated, and fainted from heat exhaustion.
Davis worked with the woman and her family to settle outside of the courtroom. Mitch paid for the hospital fees and nothing else, which he would have done anyway. But Davis somehow convinced the woman not to move forward with a court case. Something about her neglecting to care for her unborn child in natural climate conditions, or something equally terrifying.
