Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“I don’t think it’ll be that easy,” he says, frowning down at his phone that I’ve turned on its face. “It’ll just be more noise.”
“You mean they won’t believe me?” I could almost laugh. “So, like, what you’re sayin’ is my own word means dog shit to ‘em? To hear an explanation from the horse’s mouth?”
“I’m not sure your fans will hear any explanations.” TJ meets my eyes. He has the audacity to give me the cutest smile right now while I’m fuming, like everything’s okay. “They only hear music.”
I throw my gaze to the floor, frustrated.
TJ scoots across the bed to me and hugs me from the side. We say nothing for a while.
If only I’d known this moment on this bed would be the last precious moment of peace we’d have.
Because the second we come down for breakfast, Cissy is upon us with her phone whipped out.
A photo on her screen of me feeding TJ a bite of grilled meat.
Below it, the meme’s caption: “FEED ME, DADDY HOLT.”
“Why in the ever-lovin’ monkey heck is this pic being shared all over the place,” she asks, “and why in the ever-lovin’ monkey heck are they calling you ‘Daddy Holt’?”
TJ and I look at each other.
It’s come time for the long-awaited sit-down.
Tim and Cissy both sit in armchairs across from us. I tell them everything. Who I really am. The real way we met at a Chase Holt concert—and what followed. The acrobat hoops we’ve had to leap through to see each other while I was on tour.
And my deep regrets now with what this is doing to him.
And by extension: them.
Neither Cissy nor Tim say anything for a moment, taking it all in, or perhaps waiting for more. They hold hands the whole time. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say Cissy is clutching Tim’s hand so tightly, it’ll be a miracle he still has his bones intact by the end.
When it’s clear we’re finished, Cissy sits forward. “So … what you’re saying … what you’re telling me is … you’re a famous singer? Who plays the guitar?”
TJ literally rolls his eyes. “Of course that’s all you’d hear.”
“Oh, I heard the rest,” says Cissy. “I very, very much heard the rest. And from what I heard, your team ain’t doing diddly-squat to help. This is when we step up now and take this shit-show into our own hands.” She eyes me. “And you, Mr. Holt, have nothing to be apologizing for.” I’m about to tell her to please keep calling me Austin, but she goes right on ahead. “Don’t you think for a second we’re gonna sit here on our butts and do nothing while the media runs rampant dragging yours and my son’s name like they love to do to anything they can sink their sick-ass teeth into. We take care of our own here. Don’t we, TJ?”
TJ smirks. “The madder you get, the more Texan you sound.”
Tim pulls out his phone. “Sit tight. I’ll call up Tyrone King and see if he’s still got connections in the police department. May need to look into ramping up security in town, if any of that madness out there invites itself here to Spruce.” He’s already up out of his chair with his phone to his ear. “Hey, Omar, hi, how’re you? Good mornin’. Think I could chat with your hubby a sec? Bit of a pressing situation …” And he’s out of the room.
Cissy rises from her chair at the same time we do. “I’m gonna need to put a stop to some of my Fourth preparations. It won’t do to invite half the town over with all this going on.”
“Wait, wait,” I quickly interject. “Cissy, ma’am, no, no, I can’t have you go cancelin’ your big Boomin’ Bash on account of—”
“Boomin’ Barbecue,” she corrects me, “and I’m not canceling. I’m adjusting. And enlisting some help. You think this is the first scandal we’ve dealt with? I nearly ran head-to-head against Nadine for Mayor until I realized we’re stronger together. Optics happens to be our jam-and-toast now. Sit tight. Hey, Nadine?” She’s already on the phone and sauntering out of the room. “Oh, you are gonna die when I tell you, yes, oh, you bet, but that’s not what I’m calling about …” And out she goes onto the patio.
I look at Cissy through the glass, her chatting now muted and far away, passion in her.
And Tim on his own mission, standing in the foyer, his words echoing, passion in him.
Something’s clawing at the surface of my mind.
Something I don’t quite know yet.
TJ frowns. “Why is everyone telling us to sit tight?” Suddenly, his eyes light up. “Wait, I just realized there’s someone’s help I can enlist.” And now he’s the one pulling out his phone. “Y’know Cole at the gym? His fiancé Noah works at the paper—didn’t I mention that?—and they’ve been establishing a lovely online footprint for Spruce over the last year or so. If there’s anyone who can—”