“What point is that?”
“Um, gee, I don’t know. The total secrecy surrounding it? I’ve spent four days together with them, and hello, I didn’t know they did a tonsil tango not that long ago! That’s a dick move on both their parts, and you know it.” Her cheeks burned just thinking about all the things she and Chance had confessed to Tennyson in the name of getting a good song. “She was sitting there, all smug and skinny. Like what the hell. So not cool.”
“Maybe she figured you knew. I think this is more on Chance than her.”
“Oh, it’s definitely on Chance.” Jolene shoved a big spoonful of yogurt into her mouth. “It’s got Chance written all over it. Now that shit is all over the Internet, you know it is, and I’ve got assault charges against me.”
“We have assault charges against him, too, so that’s a wash.”
“Don’t be casual about legal shit. You can’t be casual about me being dragged into court.”
“The guy is pressing charges against me, too. He says I tripped him, which is total crap. It’s not my fault he fell when I was calling him a piece of shit.”
“We’re a pair, aren’t we?” Jolene asked ruefully. “And please tell me Shane is bringing us food when he comes over. And that Mama isn’t with him as some sort of surprise, because I will lose it. I can’t be cheerful for Mama today.”
“No, of course not. She’s still in St. Pete, hitting on retired doctors. What does Shane want, anyway? I’m not in the mood for his businessman attitude. Every time I see him, he gives me a hard time about not saving for my retirement. I can’t even plan tomorrow, how can I plan my retirement?”
“I may be retiring as of today, because I can tell you straight up there is no way in hell I can finish this album with Chance and Tennyson.” She felt sick to her stomach, and she tossed her spoon and yogurt down onto the gorgeous quartz counter that topped the beautiful mahogany cabinets in the house she would not be able to keep because Chance was a lying sack. “I’m going to go belly-up, and then I’m going to sue Chance for being an idiot.”
This wasn’t like treading over old ground. This wasn’t about what he did or didn’t do while they were broken up. It was about his total lack of honesty regarding the one relevant thing about their time apart. He had been so damn forthcoming with the rest of the details about women he’d slept with, yet he’d failed to mention that one of them was Tennyson? It boggled the mind.
That bitch also deserved a smackdown for sitting there and probing. Was it a blonde, a brunette, a redhead? Ugh. Yes, she wondered a lot of things. Like if she could strangle Tennyson with her own guitar strings. That had been rude, plain and simple.
“Hey, hey, how is my favorite sister?” Shane said as he strolled into her house via the garage door.
“Hey, big brother, what’s up?” Jolene asked without a great deal of enthusiasm.
“Just so you know, I’m here, too,” Elle said, making a face at Shane. “So, yeah, thanks for the blatant favoritism.”
“No fighting, please. There has been enough of that, according to TMZ. Should I call you both Rocky?”
Very amusing. Jolene asked, “How did you get in the house? I thought I locked the door.”
“Nope. You should be more careful.” Shane was wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, the tattoos clearly visible on his arms. He looked more rocker than producer, but he was gaining a lot of ground in the industry. He had some serious clientele and a big old bank account these days. “And, Elle, I think of you as the favorite brother I never had. You’re not sweet enough to be a girl.”
Elle flipped him off. “Don’t throw gender stereotypes at me.”
“Why not, when it’s bound to get a rise out of you every single time.” He grinned and dropped a bag on the island. “I brought salads, as demanded. Go ahead and dig in while I tell you my good news.”
“You’re getting married?” Jolene asked to tweak him. Shane liked to play the field.
He blanched. “Lord, no. Why would that be good news, you crazy woman? No, this positive bit of news is about you, Jolene.”
“Jolene and I got notorious in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot this afternoon,” Elle said. “What could be good about that? Unless that idiot photographer is dropping all the charges and there’s a law that states we can prosecute people for being jerks.”