Page 25 of Finding Silence
“What is happening with the overdose story?” I ask, changing the subject. “Do we have a strategy yet on how we’re gonna handle it?”
“Gemma and Ken are hashing out a statement to be sent to major news outlets, and I’ll be posting it to your social media accounts as well,” she explains.
Gemma Diorio is my publicist and Ken Winfield, my lawyer. They’re the ones who worry about public perception and legalities; who tell me what I can and cannot say or do. They keep me in check and therefore aren’t always my favorite people, but I don’t pay them to be my friends.
“It’s basically going to say you are alive and well,” Grace continues. “But these days preferring a quieter life out of the spotlight. It’s also going to mention you have no idea at all how that story reporting your death came about, but that it is pure fabrication and your team is trying to find out where it originated from. The general consensus is basically laugh it off, keeping the response light with a touch of humor, because if we sound too serious or angry, it’ll only come across as defensive and give the story more credence.”
“Ugh,” I groan.
As much as I don’t like the plan because I really want to rant and rave against the lies, I know the strategy they suggest is the right one.
“I know, I know,” Grace placates me. “But we have to be smart and measured about the way we respond.”
“And when is this going to go out?”
“Gemma is pushing hard to get it out there before the evening news.”
“Well, I hope that’ll be the end of it.”
“Actually…” she drawls the word, which never bodes well.
I groan louder.
“What?”
“There’s one little thing you need to take care of, I’ve been fielding phone calls from the guys since this thing went viral, wanting to know what the hell is going on.”
“Jeff and Ollie?”
“And Dunk,” she adds.
A harsh, bitter laugh escapes me. “Are you kidding me? Duncan is the one who caused this fucking mess.”
“Ken says you need to be careful slinging accusations. Even just to the other guys. You don’t want to get hit with a slander suit.”
“Ha! Me? It’s my reputation that was dragged through the mud with this stunt.”
“Right, but there’s no evidence to show that was Dunk’s doing. Yet,” she quickly adds. “Ken is investigating it and doesn’t want you to say or do anything that could compromise that.”
“Fine. So what do I have to do?”
“Call the band. Let them know you are fine and this was some bullshit story. You can even reiterate you have no interest in returning to the stage, but whatever you do, don’t point fingers.”
“So, call Jeff and Ollie,” I confirm.
“And Duncan,” Grace adds.
Dammit, there goes my Zen cloud.
Brant
* * *
She does not look happy when I show up on her doorstep for the second time in as many days.
This time my plan was to take her for a horseback ride. We’d briefly talked about her wanting to try it last night, but perhaps in the light of day she feels differently. I don’t think the scowl on her face is necessarily meant for me, at least that’s not the impression I got from her last night when she was as enthusiastic a participant as I was in the goodnight kiss we shared.
“Not a good time?” I check, keeping a safe distance on the porch for the moment.
