It feels amazing to be back on a stage. We need to make a few adjustments for this venue, but we still have a few days before the first show. Tickets went on sale this morning and are selling like crazy. Even if Trixie closes Metro, she’ll have enough money to pay off debtors and get some repairs done. The club is really in need of a makeover.
As soon as the equipment is put away, I tell the guys that I need to speak with them. They both give me the “we don’t want to talk business” look. I don’t really blame them. Right now, business is at a standstill but we’re going to fix that one way or the other. Being in LA is an opportunity that we need to seize, grab the bull by the horns so to speak.
“Let’s get dinner.” I suggest. Food is always a great way to break the ice. Dropping the bomb that Moreno came to my place won’t go over smoothly. Harrison and JD agree, and I follow them out the back door. The car service we’re using is waiting and as soon as the driver sees us come out, he puts his magazine down to open our door.
“It’s nice to see back in the magazines, Mr. Page. The camera sure does love you.”
I pause, resting my hand on top of the door. “What are you talking about?”
“You and Ms. Richards are on the front of every magazine and website out there.”
My blood turns cold as I take in his words. This is not good. I had forgotten about the paparazzi being outside the club when I let her in yesterday.
“Mate, your headline is the shit,” JD says as he holds his phone out for me.
On his screen is a picture of Layla and me. It’s fuzzy and meant to give off that stealth look and I can see why. Without the image being crisp, you can’t see us hugging. Instead, you see me trying to kiss her and it looks as though my hands may be in inappropriate places. As if the picture wasn’t bad enough, the headline reads: “Former lovers reunite as Page steps out on his wife” in bold letters going across the screen, really driving the point home. The only consolation out of this is that Josie doesn’t look at this shit, but I still have to tell her. I can’t hide this from her.
The former lovers part gives me pause. No one, aside from Harrison, Sam, Layla and her ex knew that we had slept together so I’m curious where the photographer picked up his information. It’s definitely not common knowledge.
Harrison pulls me into the car, still clutching JD’s phone. He takes it back, clearing the screen and leaving me with my own thoughts as the car takes off. Nothing is going right with this trip. First Josie goes radio silent, then Moreno shows up and now this photo. The next bomb to drop will be the book…
“Motherfucker,” I blurt out, earning stares from both Harrison and JD.
“Care to share?” Harrison asks. The answer should be no, but he’s my best friend, and he knows I’ll tell him everything.
I shake my head and ask myself how I could be so stupid. I should’ve pressed Josie harder on the phone about why she wouldn’t call me. I’ve been gone on tour before and we talked all the time. She’s never blown me off like that.
“JD, can you look and see when that book about me is coming out?”
He nods and starts moving around on his phone. I could look, but he knows his way about the web much easier. I swear it’s an age thing.
“Looks like it was three days ago, mate.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I growl as I pound my fist into the door of the car. Everyone else is silent as I throw my temper tantrum. “The headline… whoever wrote the article read the book. No one knew about Layla and me, at least anyone that would tell. And the other day, Josie wouldn’t talk to me, I have a feeling she’s read the book.”
“She wouldn’t,” Harrison says and I want to agree with him, but the way things were left I’m not so sure. Josie didn’t want me to come out here and if she saw the book in the store, she’d buy it. Hell, if our roles were reversed, I’d buy it and read it in the car. My past is just that, my past. If I wanted people to know shit about me, I’d write my own fucking book.
All too soon we’re in front of the hotel. I follow JD out of the car with Harrison behind me. There are a few paparazzi standing on the street and the minute they see us, their cameras are raised. Normally, I wouldn’t mind, but not today. I keep my head down as I walk into the hotel which will now be my sanctuary. That and the bar next door. No media are allowed in either place and that makes it perfect for me.
Harrison and I follow JD into the restaurant. He uses his British charm to snag us a private table away from unsuspecting eyes and prying ears. Technically, we should take this to one of our rooms, but we’re hungry and want to spread out.
The waitress quickly takes our food and drink orders, shutting the door behind her.
“Aside from this book shit, what’s up?” Harrison doesn’t waste any time cutting to the chase.