Jordan handed her the bottle and a burp cloth with a reassuring wink. Assuming it was in everybody’s best interest for her to go, she headed for the living room.
“Pix, wait up,” Dred called after. Petal started to really cry. “Stay in here with us. Sam’s the one who’s leaving.”
Pixie wanted to crawl into a giant hole in the floor. She was pretty certain she wasn’t the cause of the conversation, but she was being sucked into it whether she wanted it or not. She focused on placing the cloth over her shoulder and positioning Petal so she could feed her. The hungry little mite rooted on the bottle and drank as if her life depended on it.
“We aren’t done,” Sam said indignantly, a blotchy red flush to his skin.
“Yeah. We are,” Dred shook his head sadly. “I’m done with you making us feel shitty about everything we do, Sam. It’s never enough. We need you to be on our side, not constantly treating us like we’re errant fucking kids.” Petal tracked her daddy with her eyes, and despite the tense situation, it was a lovely thing.
Sam stood and gathered his papers. “So, what. You’re firing me?”
“Not yet, Sam. But I am laying down some lines. We decide the kind of music we want to record, we decide what we do, not you. It’s your job to bring us opportunities, sure. But we choose what gets approved. And another thing, I’m separating my family and my career.” He held out his hand.
“What? Sam asked.
“Key. This is our family home. Family members get keys. You’re our work colleague, and to the best of my knowledge, if we all worked some fucking desk-jockey job in an office together, you wouldn’t have a key to my house.”
Sam placed his files on the kitchen counter and pulled the keys from his pocket. With shaky hands, he wound the key off the ring and dropped it on the granite.
“I’ll be in touch,” Sam said over his shoulder as he left the house. The room remained silent until the front door slammed.
Dred let out a whoosh of air. “Sorry about that, Snowflake.” He placed his hand on her lower back and led her to one of the armchairs. “You want me to take over?”
Pixie shook her head. “No, we’re good. Was it like that the whole time I was gone?”
The rest of the band followed them and sat down, and Dred perched on her chair arm.
“More of the same.” Dred turned to face the others. “Guys, I honestly think we should see a lawyer. I don’t want to be with a label that sets us up to fail after everything we’ve already delivered. I don’t want a manager who isn’t looking out for our best interests. I don’t want a fucking house in L.A. when I own one here and my girlfriend lives in Miami.”
Jordan and Lennon nodded, while Nikan rubbed his hand along his jaw.
“I agree,” said Elliott. “I think we should finish the album and the tour seeing so much has already been spent on both, though.”
“Yeah. Let’s keep those two things and get out of everything else. And let’s talk to a lawyer to see if we can get out of all our contracts when we’re done. Management and label included.”
Pixie shifted Petal to her shoulder and rubbed her back. A clicking noise stole her attention. She looked in the direction of the hallway. “Did you hear that?” she asked Dred.
“Hear what?”
“I thought I heard something in the hall. Didn’t you?”
Dred shook his head. “This old house makes all kinds of odd creaks and groans,” he said. He got up and peered his head toward the door. “Nothing going on,” he said, shaking his head as he walked back into the room.
Pixie smiled. “I’m probably hearing things.” Dred kissed the top of her head as he returned to his spot on her chair arm.
“There’s something else I want to run by you guys.” Dred looked at her, silently asking for her permission to tell them what they had decided in bed that morning. She nodded.
“Pix is in trouble. The kind of trouble we’ve spent our lives trying to get away from. I’m taking her to the airport later, but I need to be in Miami as soon as Petal’s passport arrives.”
Each of the guys looked at her, but she saw nothing but compassion from them, to the point it was too overwhelming and she returned her to attention to Petal, who burped.
“Chicks are hot in Miami,” Lennon said.
Nikan nodded. “I’m so over snow.”
“We might finally get inspired somewhere else,” Jordan added.
Dred lifted Pixie’s chin and kissed her sweetly.
“Miami it is,” he murmured.
Chapter Fifteen
“Whose idea was it to walk off the plane and drive straight to Pahokee?” Dred yawned and she smiled. It was hard to believe only three days had passed since she’d last seen him. It felt like much longer.
When he’d called her the previous day to let her know he’d finally gotten Petal’s passport, she’d thought it might be a good day or two until she saw him. But the entire band, their instruments, and Petal were all booked on the six forty a.m. American flight from Toronto to Miami. She couldn’t have been happier.