Page 16 of Finding Silence
I look up to find Savvy sitting back down across from me. I’m sure she can see the steam coming out of my ears. I’m livid.
Unable to contain my anger, I bite off, “No, it’s not,” and launch into a detailed account of what that sniveling little parasite is trying to pull.
“So you’re saying he’s spreading a rumor you’re dead because he’s desperate for money? Hoping for what result?”
“Maybe to force me back into the spotlight, but I have a feeling he knows that’s never going to happen. However, what this little stunt will do, for sure, is send sales soaring. Before the end of today, every radio station will be playing our music. It’s the nature of the beast, the only bad publicity is no publicity.”
“I guess that wouldn’t be such a bad thing,” she suggests cautiously.
I drop my head in my hands and groan.
“It is when it’s at the expense of your name.” I lift my head. “Aside from some experimentation early on in my career, I’ve worked hard at keeping my proverbial nose clean. No pun intended. I may not look it, but I value my reputation, and seeing it dragged through the mud is not worth the money it’ll bring in.”
“Couldn’t you fight it? Call up the press and let them know you’re still very much alive. Sue this guy for defamation?”
I shoot her a tired smile. “I could, but that would only feed the rumor mill. People will always believe where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Trust me, I’ve seen people in the industry get decimated trying to stand up for themselves. With the rise of social media and all the misinformation it shoots around the world in a matter of nanoseconds, you’ll never catch up with the lies.”
“So now what?”
“Now nothing. Grace—my manager—along with my lawyer will do what they can. All I can do is cut off the last of this damn purple hair, stay offline, and hope these lies don’t follow me to Silence.”
I can’t imagine this beautiful town overrun with bloodthirsty paparazzi and tabloid reporters. So much for finding my peaceful slice of heaven.
“I hope so too,” Savvy says earnestly. “But in the meantime, I’ll keep my eye out for any unwanted characters showing up in town. I just hope you weren’t counting on keeping your identity a secret.”
I shake my head. “I wasn’t necessarily going to advertise it, but had hoped to have some time to settle in before it became public knowledge.”
“And you may still have that, because I would never have made the connection without you telling me. In my teenage years I was a fan, and even knowing you work in the music industry, I didn’t see the resemblance.”
I chuckle at that. It could mean my extravagant stage makeup did its work, or I’ve simply aged that much.
“I’m not sure whether to be happy or upset about that,” I admit.
“I just can’t believe I’m sitting across from Listen Phyllis,” she whispers with a big grin on her face. “I can’t wait to tell Dad.”
Oh shit.
Chapter 6
Brant
* * *
“All in.”
My eyes narrow on Buck, who is shoving his meager pile of dollar bills into the middle of the table. Everyone else is folding, but I’m holding three kings, which could turn into a full house, depending on what card is turned up. Either way, I’m in pretty good shape so folding is not an option.
Plus, it’s Buck, and he’s been winning way too many pots these past few months. But he’s been losing tonight, and I can’t pass up on the opportunity to clean him out.
I toss some money on the pile to match his bet and ignore his dirty look.
“Gotcha, sucker,” Buck goads when an eight of hearts is turned up and he slaps down a flush.
He’s already reaching for the pile of bills when I calmly lay down my full house. Buck starts cursing up a storm while Clem and Jacob bust out laughing.
“Serves you right, you greedy bastard.” Jacob claps Buck on the shoulder. “You’ve been walking out of here with heavy pockets since April.”
We’re in the back room of The Kerrigan—Jacob and Stella’s bar—where we play poker Thursday nights. Some nights we sit down with six, but tonight it’s only the four of us. Keith Jespers, our local pharmacist, is on an Alaskan cruise with his wife, and fire chief, Randy Nichols, is recovering from hernia surgery. Poker night is a weekly affair, unless three or more of us can’t make it; then we skip a week.
