Page 75 of Take My Hand

I need to respect her needs, and if right now it’s time alone for her to process everything, I’ll give it to her.

For now at least.

I send her one more text and then get ready for the conference call.

Me: Take all the time you need but please just call me when you’re ready.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly the spin we were hoping for but at least you all were fighting on the same side this time.” Arun’s smooth voice flows through the speakers of my laptop.

By the unimpressed expressions that greet his comments, he clears his throat and shifts in his large desk chair. A mahogany bookshelf filled with various plagues and picture frames sits behind him and if I squint hard enough, I think I see a group photo of the five of us at our very first awards show almost eight years ago front and center.

A wave of nostalgia washes through me, remembering the excitement we all felt to be invited to such a prestigious event and feeling so out of place among legends in the industry when we were still so new. We weren’t even old enough to drink yet, but that didn’t stop Walker and Nikolai from sneaking in a flask and the four of us sneakily passing it around throughout the night until Arun caught us and confiscated it.

“Is there any information out there about why the fight started?” I ask, clearing away the memories and refocusing back on the most pressing topic of the moment. I scoured the various headlines and articles as quickly as I could before we jumped on this call, but nothing caught my eye.

Arun shakes his head, and I swear I’m not the only one who sinks back in relief. Nikolai’s bright blue eyes burn with anger, palpable enough to shine through the computer screen. He was the first one to ask how Carter was the second I jumped on the call and has looked restless ever since I told him I haven’t heard from her yet.

I asked Walker if Scar’s heard from her at all and he solemnly shook his head.

Reid has sat silent most of the call, but his shoulders and jaw hold so much tension I’m surprised he doesn’t start cracking apart like an old statue.

“Despite the videos and photos of the incident, no one seems to have caught wind of what caused the confrontation. And I plan to keep it that way,” Arun says, an icy promise underlying his words.

My worry resolves a fraction, because I believe him. Arun may be a father figure to all of us, caring and compassionate when we need him to. But he’s an absolute bull dog in his field, and people know not to fuck with him. If he says he’s going to keep something under wraps, I trust him.

And if the only people who know what led to the fight last night include the five of us on this call, Carter, and Daniel, I know six won’t be the ones to clue anyone in the press on that information.

“What about Daniel?” Walker voices my concern.

“He’ll be dealt with,” Arun states firmly. With cold, calculated certainty.

I’d love to deal with him myself, but I know he won’t want any of us to intervene. Less of a risk. Less chance of something going array.

“And if he thinks he’s ever going to get any work for anyone in this industry again, he’s sorely mistaken.”

A wicked smile curls the corner of my mouth up at his words. Boone already basically blacklisted him among fellow DJs and artists in his area of the industry. But Arun? He’s got clients and contacts in every single genre imaginable. And the respect of those people who will listen to him.

“Now, I wanted to see how you all would like to respond. I obviously have my own ideas, but I’d like to hear what you all have to say on the matter as well.” He sits back in his chair, turning over the floor to us.

We all stare at each other for a heartbeat, waiting to see if anyone will jump in. Normally Walker is the first one to do so, but he sits back on his couch, keeping his mouth shut in a firm line. Nikolai and Reid do the same.

They’re going to let me be the one to decide.

“I uh,” I start, my brain trying to work through the fog of the last twelve hours. “From what I saw this morning, it looks like most of the rumors of us breaking up have been put to the side.”

The photos of us all entering the club did their job. The captions with them were all along the lines of us going out as a group to celebrate mine and Nikolai’s birthdays and how it was just like old times for the members of Whisper Me Nothings. A few photos caught us all smiling at one another as we walked in, looking happy to be out and in each other's company. Some of them look genuine, others I can see the cracks. But they’ve done their job.

There was also plenty of buzz about me and Carter walking hand in hand. Snapshots of my hand on her lower back as I guided her in front of me to enter and one of me bending down to whisper something into her ear as she smiled.

But it’s been pretty positive so far. Granted, it’s been less than twenty-four hours so there’s only so much gossip that can be done in such a short amount of time. But a few articles have connected Carter from the photos to her work as a photographer and found out she works with the band. It’s brought a highlight to her talent, with those articles featuring some of her portfolio and praising her work.

We’ll see how the response to our relationship shapes out over the next few weeks, but at least for right now, the positivity I’ve seen keeps me from stressing about one more thing.

“Your plan clearly did its job,” I say to Arun, and he smirks, like it’s obvious. It was his idea so of course it worked. “So as far as the breakup rumors go, we’re covered for now. But with the video of the fight…” I trail off, anger brewing as it flashes through my mind on replay.

In the video, you can clearly make out Daniel taunting Carter and the four of us standing with her, waiting to pounce. He gets up in her face but thank god the lighting is so poor that no one would be able to read anyone’s lips and find out what he’s saying.

Our security stepped in the way of the recording shortly after that before the video just became a blur and was cut off. There are some photos out there that show Daniel lying on the ground, but his face is mostly obscured by someone’s shoulder or leg.

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