Page 41 of Crimson Desires

“That shit isn’t going anywhere. If it does, I’ll have James Maverick contacting lawyers left and right.” I didn’t actually know if Dad could do anything about the footage. But I did know that I wasn’t going to allow Cal to blackmail me—especially when I hadn’t done anything wrong. “Finish your interview with Kane, Axel, and Zephyr. Cut your fucking losses, man.”

Cal seethed; all pretenses of former politeness dissolved. “Fine. I will.”

***

Ten minutes after walking out of the interview with Kaleidoscope Radio, my phone buzzed with a text from Ava.

Ava: you’ve got to be kidding me. walking out on an interview? really, jack?

Me: Aves, I know what you’re thinking. But the guy was an asshat.

Ava: asshat or not, you can’t be fucking up media relationships like that. do you know how many strings i had to pull to get kaleidoscope radio to do this interview with you?

Me: Why did you even WANT Kaleidoscope Radio to do an interview with us? They’re a pop station.

Ava: because they have a huge following. a huge following that likes you. i was hoping that this interview could convince some of your old fans to give wicked crimson a chance. i even asked the interviewer to focus on bridging the gap between your past career and your current one.

Oh. Shit.

Me: Are you serious?

Ava: yes???

Me: Shit. I’m sorry, Ava. I didn’t mean to lose my cool. I didn’t know that you’d asked him to focus on me. I thought he was just uninterested in Wicked Crimson. But still, the guy was a dickhead.

Ava: whatever. i have a call with KR’s media team in five. hopefully, i can salvage this mess.

Me: Thanks, Ava. I owe you one.

Ava: when you have a kid, you better fucking name it after me.

I pocketed my phone, sighing.

“You good?” Damien asked. He was sitting next to me, scribbling some stuff down in his notebook.

I caught him up on what Ava had texted me.

“Jesus Christ,” Damien groaned. “I didn’t mean to lose my temper, man. Fuck. Why doesn’t Ava tell us this shit?”

“I don’t know. But it’s not your fault,” I assured him. I grabbed Axel’s guitar, balancing it on my lap. “You want to work on something?”

Damien flipped to a new page in his notebook. “What do you have in mind?”

“I don’t know.” I plucked out a few notes. “Maybe something happy?”

“Fine. What’s made you happy recently?”

I didn’t have to think about that one. The answer came to me immediately:

Aster.

Chapter Eleven

Aster

The Red Hat Amphitheater offered me a full view of the stage from my spot at the merch table. This was exciting—even though I’d been at every one of Wicked Crimson’s concerts since I’d joined the tour in Boston, I hadn’t been able to watch any of them because of my job.

Twenty minutes before the band’s mic check, Jack paid me a visit at the merch table.

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