Stage Dive: Lick Part 5

"We'll deal with that last," Ted rushed on. "You'll notice here that the doc.u.ment covers all conditions to be met by yourself. The main issues include your not speaking to any member of the press with regard to this matter. This is non-negotiable, I'm afraid. This condition remains in force until your death. Do you fully understand the requirement, Ms Thomas? Under no circ.u.mstances may you talk to any member of the press regarding Mr Ferris in any way while you're alive."

"So I can talk to them after I die?" I asked with a weak little laugh. Ted was getting on my nerves. I guess I hadn't gotten enough sleep after all.

Ted showed me his teeth. They weren't quite as impressive as Adrian's. "This is a very serious matter, Ms Thomas."

"Ev," I said. "My name is Ev and I do realize the seriousness of this issue, Ted. I apologize for being flippant. But if we could get back to the part about the settlement? I'm a little confused."

"Very well." Ted looked down his nose at me and tapped a thick, gold pen on the paperwork in front of me. "As I said, Mr Ferris has been very generous."

"No," I said, not looking at the papers. "You don't understand."

Ted cleared his throat and looked down at me over the top of his gla.s.ses. "It would be unwise of you to try and press for more given the circ.u.mstances, Ms Thomas. A six-hour marriage in Las Vegas entered into while you were both heavily under the influence of alcohol? Textbook grounds for annulment."

Ted's cronies t.i.ttered and I felt my face fire up. My need to accidentally kick the p.r.i.c.k under the table grew and grew.

"My client will not be making another offer."

"I don't want him to make another offer," I said, my voice rising.

"The annulment will go ahead, Ms Thomas," said Ted. "There is no question of that. There will be no reconciliation."

"No, that's not what I meant."

Ted sighed. "We need to finalize this today, Ms Thomas."

"I'm not trying to hold anything up, Ted."

The other two lawyers watched me with distaste, backing up Ted with sleazy, knowing smiles. Nothing p.i.s.sed me off faster than a bunch of people trying to intimidate someone. Bullies had made my life h.e.l.l back in high school. And really, that's all these people were.

Adrian gave me a big-toothed, faux-fatherly grin. "I'm sure Ev can see how kind David's being. There are not going to be any delays here, are there?"

These people, they blew my mind. Speaking of which, I had to wonder where my darling husband was. Too busy banging bikini models to turn up to his own divorce, the poor guy. I pushed back my fringe, trying to figure out the right thing to say. Trying to get my anger managed. "Wait-"

"We all just want what's best for you given the unfortunate situation," Adrian continued, obviously lying through his big, bright teeth.

"Great," I said, fingers fidgeting beneath the table. "That's ... that's really great of you."

"Please, Ms Thomas." Ted tapped his pen imperiously alongside a figure on the paperwork and I dutifully looked, though I didn't want to. There were lots of zeroes. I mean, really a lot. It was insane. In two lifetimes I couldn't earn that kind of money. David must have wanted me gone something fierce. My stomach rumbled nervously but my puking days were over. The whole scene felt horrific, like something out of a bad B-grade movie or soap opera. Girl from the wrong side of the tracks hijacks hot, rich guy and tricks him into marriage. Now all that was left was for him to use his people to chase me off into the sunset.

Well, he won.

"This was all just a mistake," said Adrian. "I'm sure Ev is every bit as keen to put it behind her as David is. And with this generous financial settlement she can move forward to a bright future."

"You'll also never attempt to make contact with Mr Ferris ever again, in any manner. Any attempt on your part to do so will see you in breach of contract." Ted withdrew his pen, sitting back in his seat with a false smile and his hands crossed over his belly. "Is that clear?"

"No," I said, scrubbing my face with my hands. They actually thought I'd fall over myself to get at that money. Money I'd done nothing to earn, no matter how tempting accepting it was. Of course, they also thought I'd sell my story to the press and hara.s.s David every spare moment I got for the rest of my life. They thought I was cheap, trashy sc.u.m. "I think I can honestly say that nothing about this is clear."

"Ev, please." Adrian gave me a disappointed look. "Let's be reasonable."

"I'll tell you what ..." I stood and retrieved the ring from my jeans pocket, throwing it onto the sea of paperwork. "You give this back to David and tell him I don't want any of it. None of this." I gestured at them, the table, the papers, and the entire d.a.m.n house. The lawyers looked nervously among themselves as if they'd need more paperwork before they could allow me to go waving my arms about in such a disorderly fas.h.i.+on.

"Ev ..."

"I don't want to sell his story, or stalk him, or whatever else you have buried in subclause 98.2. I don't want his money."

Adrian coughed out a laugh. f.u.c.k him. The phony b.a.s.t.a.r.d could think what he liked.

Ted frowned at my big sparkly ring lying innocently among the mess. "Mr Ferris didn't mention a ring."

"No? Well. Why don't you tell Mr Ferris he can shove it wherever he feels it might best fit, Ted."

"Ms Thomas!" Ted stood, his puffy face outraged. "That is unnecessary."

"Going to have to disagree with you there, Ted." I bolted out of the dining room of death and made straight for the front door as fast as my feet could carry me. Immediate escape was the only answer. If I could just get the h.e.l.l away from them long enough to catch my breath I could come up with a new plan to deal with this ridiculous situation. I'd be fine.

A brand new black Jeep pulled up as I tore down the front steps.

The window lowered to show my guide from last night, Mal, sitting in the driver's seat. He smirked from behind black sungla.s.ses. "Hey there, child bride."

I flipped him the finger and jogged down the long, winding driveway toward the front gates. Toward liberty and freedom and my old life, or whatever remained of it. If only I'd never gone to Vegas. If only I'd tried harder to convince Lauren that a party at home would be fine, none of this would have happened. G.o.d, I was such an idiot. Why had I drunk so much?

"Ev. Hold up." Mal pulled up alongside me in his Jeep. "What's wrong? Where're you going?"

I didn't answer. I was done with all of them. That and I had the worst feeling I was about to cry, d.a.m.n it. My eyes felt hot, horrible.

"Stop." He pulled the brake and climbed out of the Jeep, running after me. "Hey, I'm sorry."

I said nothing. I had nothing to say to any of them.

His hand wrapped around my arm gently, but I didn't care. I swung at him. I'd never hit anyone in my life. Apparently, I wasn't about to start now. He dodged my flying fist with ease.

"Whoa! Okay." Mal danced back a step, giving me a wary look over the top of his shades. "You're mad. I get it."

Hands on hips, he looked back toward the house. Ted and Adrian stood on the front steps, staring after us. Even from this distance the dynamic duo did not appear happy. Evil b.a.s.t.a.r.ds.

Mal hissed out a breath. "You're f.u.c.king joking. He sicced that ball-sucker Ted onto you?"

I nodded, blinking, trying to get myself under control.

"Did you have anyone with you?" he asked.

"No."

He c.o.c.ked his head. "Are you going to cry?"

"No!"

"f.u.c.k. Come on." He held out his hand to me and I stared at in disbelief. "Ev, think. There're photographers and s.h.i.+t waiting out front. Even if you get past them, where are you going to go?"

He was right. I had to go back, get my bag. So stupid of me not to have thought of it. Just as soon as I had myself under control I'd go in and retrieve it, then get the h.e.l.l out of here. I fanned my face with my hands, took a big breath. All good.

Meanwhile, his hand hovered, waiting. There were a couple of small blisters on it, situated in the join between thumb and finger. Curious.

"Are you the drummer?" I asked with a sniff.

For some reason he cracked up laughing, almost doubling over, clutching at his belly. Maybe he was on drugs or something. Or maybe he was just one more lunatic in this gigantic asylum. Batman would have had a hard time keeping this place in check.

"What is your problem?" I asked, taking a step away from him. Just in case.

His snazzy sungla.s.ses fell off, clattering on the asphalt. He swiped them up and shoved them back on his face. "Nothing. Nothing at all. Let's get out of here. I've got a house at the beach. We'll hide out there. Come on, it'll be fun."

I hesitated, giving the jerks on the front steps a lethal look. "Why would you help me?"

"Because you're worth helping."

"Oh, really? Why would you think that?"

"You wouldn't like my answer."

"I haven't liked a single answer I've had all morning, why stop now?"

He smiled. "Fair enough. I'm David's oldest friend. We've gotten drunk and out of control more times than I can remember. He's had girls angling to snare him for years, even before we had money. He never was the slightest bit interested in marriage. It was never even on his radar before. So the fact that he married you, well, that suggests to me you're worth helping. Come on, Ev. Stop worrying."

Easy for him to say, his life hadn't been skewered by a rock star.

"I need to get my stuff."

"And get cornered by them? Worry about it later." He held his hand out, fingers beckoning for mine. "Let's get out of here."

I put my hand in his and we went.

CHAPTER SIX.

"So, hang on, this song isn't about his dog dying or something?"

"You're not funny," I laughed.

"I so am." Mal sn.i.g.g.e.red at the opposite end of the couch as Tim McGraw let rip about his kind of rain on the flat screen TV taking up the opposite wall. "Why do they all wear such big hats, do you think? I have a theory."

"Shush."

The way these people lived blew my tiny little mind. Mal, short for Malcolm, lived in a place at the beach that was mostly a three-story architectural feat of steel and gla.s.s. It was amazing. Not ridiculously huge like the place in the hills, but awe-inspiring just the same. My Dad would have been in raptures over the minimalism of it, the cleanliness of the lines or some such. I just appreciated having a friend in my time of need.

Mal's house was clearly a bachelor pad-slash-den of iniquity. I'd had a vague notion to make lunch to thank him for taking me in but there wasn't a single speck of food in the house. Beer filled the fridge and vodka the freezer. Oh, no, there was a bag of oranges used as wedges to go with shots of vodka, apparently. He'd ruled out touching those. His super slick coffee machine, however, made everything right. He even had decent beans. I wowed him by busting out a few of my barista moves. After drinking three cups in the s.p.a.ce of an hour, I felt a lot more like my old well-planned, caffeinated self.

Mal dialed for pizza and we watched TV late into the night. Mostly he found his joy in mocking my taste in pretty much everything: movies, music, the lot. At least he did it good-naturedly. We couldn't go outside because a couple of photographers were waiting on the beach. I felt bad about it but he'd just shrugged it off.

"What about this song?" he asked. "You like this?"

Miranda Lambert strode on screen in a cool '50s frock and I grinned. "Miranda is mighty."

"I've met her."

I sat up straight. "Really?"

More sn.i.g.g.e.ring from Mal. "You're impressed I've met Miranda Lambert but you didn't even know who I was. Honestly, woman, you are hard on the ego."

"I saw the gold and platinum records lining the hallway, buddy. I'm thinking you can take it."

He snorted.

"You know, you remind me a lot of my brother." I almost managed to duck the bottle cap he flicked at me. It bounced off my forehead. "What was that for?"

"Can't you at least pretend to wors.h.i.+p me?"

"No. Sorry."

With total disregard for my Lambert love, Mal started surfing the channels. Home shopping, football, Gone with the Wind, and me. Me on TV.

"Wait," I said.

He groaned. "Not a good idea."

First my school pictures paraded past, followed by one of Lauren and me at our senior prom. They even had a reporter standing across the road from Ruby's, prattling on about my life before being elevated to the almighty status of David's wife. And then there was the man himself in some concert footage, guitar in his hands as he sang backup. The lyrics were your typical my-woman-is-mean, "She's my one and only, she's got me on my knees ..." I wondered if he'd write songs about me. If so, odds were they'd be highly uncomplimentary. "s.h.i.+t." I hugged a couch cus.h.i.+on tight to my chest.

Mal leaned over and fluffed my hair. "David's the favorite, darlin'. He's pretty, plays guitar, and writes the songs. Girlies faint when he walks by. Team that with your being a young 'un and you've got the news of the week."

"I'm twenty-one."

"And he's twenty-six. It's enough of a difference if they hype it just right." Mal sighed. "Face it, child bride. You got married in Vegas by an Elvis impersonator to one of rock 'n' roll's favorite sons. It was always bound to cause a s.h.i.+t storm. Given there's also been some c.r.a.p going on with the band lately ... what with Jimmy partying like it's 1999 and Dave losing his music-writing mojo. Well, you get the picture. But next week, someone else will do something wacky and all the attention will move on."

"I guess so."

"I know so. People are constantly f.u.c.king up. It's a glorious thing." He sat back with his hands behind his head. "Go on, smile for Uncle Mal. You know you want to."

I smiled half-heartedly.

"That's a bulls.h.i.+t smile and I'm ashamed of you. You're not going to fool anyone with that. Try again."

I tried harder, smiling 'til my cheeks hurt.

"d.a.m.n. Now you just look like you're in pain."