Page 23 of Wes

I moan, “Kim’s going to fucking kill us.”

“You. She’s going to skin you alive. I’m the choir boy in this band. She loves me.”

* * *

The band manager doesn’t murder either of us, but she demonstrates her tough love waiting until the next morning to come to the station with Robert Davies, MoD’s lawyer.

Embarrassment burns my cheeks and I glance at the tips of my sneakers as an officer escorts me to the room where they’re waiting for me.

Kim’s eyes widen as they scan my injuries, her jaw drops. Choked, she murmurs, “My God! These look mean.” Her French cologne wraps around me a second before her arms do. She squeezes me against her chest before stepping back. Concern turns to indignation, and she grips my upper arms, shaking me. “What the fuck were you thinking? A brawl? I can’t even!”

I can’t blame her for being conflicted over this. I bet she can’t decide if I deserve a spanking or cuddling.

I hold her stare and murmur, “I am truly sorry, Kim. Nick was collateral damage in all this. He got caught in the mess I started.”

“We know that,” Robert says as Kim and I take seats across the metal table from him. “We’ve talked to him. He’s paying a fine for disturbing the peace.”

I take a deep breath in and let the air out in a long sigh. “Good. I don’t want my shit to get to him.”

“Speaking of which, the brown matter hit the fan in a big way this time,” Kim growls. Her nostrils flare as she shakes her head. The red and pink flowers on her silk top move up and down as she heaves a couple of times. “Reporters have already found out you punched a guy for bad-mouthing the woman who bought a date with you for half a million dollars.”

My guts twist. I squeeze my eyes shut and groan, “Fuck!”

“Indeed. It’s going to take a hell of a PR stunt to clean up your mess.” She stops my attempt to speak with a hand in the air. I swallow the apology. She continues talking, “Robert and I were up most of the night coming up with a plan and setting it in motion.”

Robert picks up where she’s stopped. “I’ve talked to the district attorney’s team. They don’t want to take you to court on an election year.”

I frown. “Really? Trials involving celebrities attract the media, no?”

He smiles. “In your case, that might backfire. They’d be trying you because of your misguided attempt to defend the head of a charity organization.”

I nod. Then, I shake my head. “Wait. You saying they’ll let me go with a slap on the wrist like Nick?”

Kim scoffs. “You wish.”

Robert explains, “You’re being charged with disturbing the peace and battery. Misdemeanors that, under the laws of California, may result in fines and imprisonment. To avoid jail time, I advise you to plead guilty to these charges. If you do that, the prosecution will ask the judge for probation and a fine.”

I slump against the chair. “That’s a no-brainer. Just show me the dotted line and we’re done.”

He shuffles a pile of papers he’s got on top of a manila envelope while Kim studies the red polish on her nails.

Bouncing my eyes between them, I insist, “Right?”

They exchange a glance that chills my bones.

“What aren’t you telling me?” I ask, even though I fear I don’t want to know.

Kim juts her chin up. “I said we’ve got a ton of cleaning to do.”

I nod. “So?”

“The district attorney’s office has agreed to let you serve your probation sentence in the form of community service, but they also want to send a message,” Robert explains.

The ground beneath my chair disappears and I fall into a rabbit hole as my brain processes the information. Without words, I shake my head as Kim laces her fingers through mine.

“Last night, we suggested something to Tarmac execs, and they liked it. The best solution here is for you to work with Welcoming Hills, helping the institution.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I grunt.

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