“No, you haven’t slept with her.” Her eyes brightened. “Have you met her? In public or otherwise?”
Wait. What? She just looked at him and saw the truth? He gathered her to his chest and squeezed her harder than he should have. He didn’t care what the press said about him. Only Charlee’s opinion of him mattered.
He pressed his lips against the top of her head and cupped her face, lifting it to look into her perceptive eyes. “I met her once. A promotional event after we signed with Windsor. She…” He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “She propositioned me.”
“For sex?”
His stomach rolled. “I turned her down.” His response was coarse and tasted like acid. He remembered the girl’s determination, her attempts to touch him. He hadn’t let her down easy.
“A woman scorned.” She sat back, eyes rimmed red, and his hands slipped from her face. “She made Roy’s favorite score too easy.”
“Favorite score?”
“Slander. I’ve witnessed him rip families apart with false scandals, destroying reputations to get what he wants.” Her lip quivered and she bit down on it, inhaled deeply. “I’m so sorry, Jay.”
“Don’t. This is not your fault. And it’s not the end of the world. There’s no evidence to charge me. Faye will take care of it from the legal side.”
She looked up out of glossy eyes. “Faye?”
“She’s a lawyer.” Laz leaned forward, elbows on knees. “And a badass one. She’ll handle it.”
“The damage is done.” She rubbed a palm on her thigh. “How will this affect the tour? It’s defamation of your image. And why did they say you declined to comment?”
Jay placed a hand over her restless one. He’d say or do anything to take that look off her face. “The tour’s sold out. And we’ll make a public statement. It’ll be fine.” The fans would be outraged, and records sales would decline. Fucking woohoo. He didn’t give shit. They weren’t playing for the money.
Laz stood and moved toward the bunks. “The record company handles our publicity, our image, and interacts with the press on our behalf. Roy Oxford graciously declined to comment for Jay.” He held the drape aside, gaze falling on Charlee. “Don’t worry about the band. That asshole put us in headline news. Totally fuels our rockognition.” He grinned and dropped the drape behind him.
Creases fanned from the corners of her eyes. “Rockognition?”
“Recognition of a rock star.” Wil smiled, powered up his video game, and slouched into the couch. “Really, Charlee. We could give a fuck what people think of us. We just want to play music.”
Jay rolled back his shoulders and let his tension slip away. Roy’s slander might hurt his other targets, but he’d sorely misjudged what mattered to this band.
76
San Diego, Tucson, Albuquerque, and Denver whisked by. Four concerts in four days and Jay was straining through the simplest activities, even struggling to lift himself into their bunk. Sixty-six shows to go.
The sway of the privacy curtain brushed his arm, and the mattress vibrated with the propulsion of their metal home. He lifted his wrist from Charlee’s waist and angled it above his face. The tritium dials on his watch glowed through the darkness. Three in the morning. Mountain time? Central time? Whatever time, it was late and his eyes burned, refusing to close. Funny how fatigue did not equate to sleepiness. Especially when his mind wasn’t ready to shut down.
He flattened his palm against her lace-covered mound and pulled her ass into the bend of his hips. Tracing the thin material down her center, he followed the seam of her lips beneath. Christ, even in sleep, she was damp. He was too tired to stop his fingers. Maybe even too tired to take it further, considering the week they’d had.
Despite the sold-out tour, the stands had been thinner at the first three shows than what they were accustomed to. This was made worse by the sudden halt on the distribution of their albums to retail channels. The label stopped production on the basis of some bullshit legality related to the charges against him. Thank you, Sylvia Windsor, for alleging that he didn’t just fuck her, but he’d done so before her eighteenth birthday. He shivered.
Faye hadn’t wasted time sharpening her teeth with a legal defense. He’d given his statement to the D.A. following the accusation, and Faye assured him the charges would disintegrate without litigation.
Roy wasn’t after a trial. The fucker wanted to torpedo Jay’s character. Jay guessed the true motivation was to drive a wedge between him and Charlee.
True to form, Faye held a news conference in Albuquerque the previous day without the consent of Windsor Records. Jay had attended but left the talking to Faye. Her press statement highlighted convincing truths about his one face-to-face meeting with Sylvia and cited the reports she’d collected from witnesses of that meeting.