Page 35 of Ring My Bell

The footage stopped. On the screen, a man a few years older than me smiled nervously at the camera. “I’m Charlie Nguyen, and Raymond Montaine lied, cheated, and stole from me all while promising to help my career. When he decided he was bored with me, he kicked me out of the apartment that I’d been renting from him and smeared my name all over the industry.”

Another face, this time a woman about Mathis’s age. “My name’s Nadine Cormac, and Raymond Montaine forced me into giving up my rights to songs I wrote. If I tried to take him to court to get my rights back, he threatened to post intimate photos from my personal laptop, which he accessed without my permission. I had three children under five and couldn’t fight back safely.”

Another face, then another, then another… They all came up one after the other with similar stories. Finally, it stopped on a plain screen, and words began to scroll across.

These are just a few of the people Raymond Montaine has defrauded, lied to, used, abused, and tried to ruin over the past twenty years. He’s used his status in the industry like a club, wielding it to harm those who were unable or less likely to fight back.

Beside me, Mathis made a choked, almost laughing sound. I nodded. “Holy shit.”

“This is libel!” Raymond screeched from somewhere backstage, running out just a moment later. “This is libel!”

“I think it might be slander,” Mathis offered. “Since it’s spoken.” I pressed close against him, trying to hide my trembling. Mathis slipped his arm around my back and squeezed tight.

Seeing Raymond in person, every angry word he’d ever said to me, every snide comment or backhanded turn of phrase suddenly playing on a loop in my head, made me want to just shrivel and hide in the shadows at the foot of the stage. But Mathis held me tight, his solid warmth, his anger, his pride seeping into me, pushing down the quivering panic threatening to spill out all over the stage.

“I don’t know,” I put in, my voice shaking just a little over the loudspeaker, the mics picking up every word. “Part of that was written down. Could be both.”

Mathis nodded. “That’s gonna be a conundrum, sorting it out, huh?”

“You both stole from me,” Raymond seethed, picking his way across the tangle of cords at the edge of the stage. “You’re trying to ruin my name.”

“Like you did ours?” Mathis demanded, shifting so I was behind him. Raymond drew up short just out of Mathis’ reach.

“You’re pathetic,” Raymond spat. “Everything you were, was because of me! And you!” He leaned to one side to jab a finger at me. “You’re a sad, useless twink who can’t even write a lyric to save his life! I handed you a platinum song on a platter and all you did was make it some niche club bop! I spent thousands on promoting you! You owe me!”

“You spent thousands on fucking around behind my back!” I snapped.

Raymond lunged at us, seemingly forgetting there was an audience. Mathis didn’t, though—he stepped back, nudging me away as Raymond swung.

Mathis hissed, the blow glancing off his cheek.

“Don’t you touch him!” I shouted, pushing past Mathis to hit Raymond myself. The blow wasn’t hard as I’d hoped but it caught him by surprise, right on the nose. He yelped and staggered back.

With a squeal of feedback, the house lights came up. Some disembodied voice over the loudspeaker announced security was on their way and for everyone to remain seated.

Which was the best way to clear the space in a heartbeat. Mathis grabbed my hand and tugged me off stage. “But what about security?” I asked.

“Let’s go,” he murmured. “Now. Because security may not be on our side. They’re not cops. They’re not here to determine what’s legal or not. Hell, even if they were cops, we’d probably still get taken in, along with Raymond. Throw us in holding, let the DA’s office sort it out tomorrow.”

Paige nodded. “We’ll split up. Gerald, come on. I’ve got an invite to one of the schmoozey bullshit things in the lodge. Let’s go make ourselves an alibi.”

Gerald and Paige hurried off down front, taking the steps at the edge of the stage. Mathis pulled us off stage right, away from Raymond, still trying to navigate the equipment on stage as well as a trio of angry, fairly aggressive stagehands.

“Come on,” Mathis urged, tugging me past a cluster of security guards heading for the stage. “Get out and mingle with the crowd, harder to separate us out.”

I nodded, letting him lead. Soon enough, we were mingling with the others who’d scattered from the theatre. Security guards were pulling people into groups to talk to them, and a cop car was driving up as we slowed to join one of the larger groups.

“Now what?” I panted.

“Walk towards the main lodge,” he murmured. “Here, put this on.” He slipped his leather jacket over my shoulders, and I sighed at the feeling of being surrounded by him. It was warm and smelled like him, taking the edge off the rising anxiety in my chest. “You stand out.” Linking his arm with mine, we walked steadily away from the crowd, doing our best not to draw attention to ourselves.

“Kind of what I aim for.”

“Not tonight, though,” he said. “Don’t look down. Stare ahead, like we’re talking.”

We strode past a few looky-loos and stepped aside to let a festival coordinator’s golf cart zoom past, but we made it to the lodge in just a few minutes. Inside was growing chaos as word got round of the ‘to-do’ at the auditorium. “Gerald and Paige should be at the schmooze-fest still.” I weaved past a barbershop quartet, nearly plowing into a semi-famous opera star who’d been trying to branch into rock music lately. No one paid us any mind, too focused on gossiping or preparing for their own performances, not aware security was swarming the stage.

As I caught a glimpse of Paige’s blue hair, Mathis moved us through the crowd, slipping in and out of the clumps of people and occasionally smiling and nodding, exchanging a quick hello. “Sorry,” Mathis said to one particularly assertive well-wisher. “He’s resting his voice tonight. You know how it is.”

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