Break It Up (16 page)

I wake
when Zach jerks suddenly and open my eyes to faint sunlight streaming in through the gauzy curtains. “Sorry,” he whispers.

“Hmm?”

He’s on his feet, running his fingers through his hair. My side feels cold without the press of his body, and my mouth tastes like something furry crawled inside and died during the night. I bet I could knock him dead from ten feet away with my morning breath, so I speak softly, thinking that won’t expel much air in his direction. “You want your shirt?”

“Hello?”

Through my squinting lids I see he’s on the phone.

“Wait, what?” he says.

I open my eyes and roll to look at the clock. It’s four in the morning.

“Okay.
Okay
. Um…can we do that? Well…I don’t know. I’ll talk to everyone.” The color has drained from his face and his hands are shaking.

I sit up and smooth my hair as best I can. At least I lay completely still when I slept. There aren’t a ton of tangles.

“I’ll convene a meeting. Right. We’re in Lisbon. Sure.
Okay
, I get it.” He listens for a moment longer before he startles again and holds his phone out to look at it.

“Who was that?” I ask.

“The lawyer.”

“Oh.” I do the math in my head quickly. It’s only seven p.m. in LA. “He read the contract?”

“He says we gave the crew the right to do whatever they want, film whatever they want, and we have no say on the final product.”

“So what did he say to do?”

“Call a meeting, see if we can renegotiate. Our one way out of the deal is if we cancel the tour.” He’s at a loss.

“Well, one thing at a time,” I say. “See what happens if you call a meeting.”

He runs his fingers through his rumpled hair and paces, looking every inch the rocker sex god. Minus the tattoos. “I screwed up.”

“Your band mates screwed up. You tried to talk them out of this.”

“Yeah, but—”

I’m back in best friend mode, even though it hurts something awful. “You’re not their caregiver. They’re grown men. I mean, come on. Why aren’t you angry? Why the guilt?”

“Because like you said, those guys are my family. They’re my little brother and my idiot cousin. I’ve always looked out for them.”

“Well, I’m sorry. But, you know, save your panic until you have something more specific to panic about.”

That earns me a smile. We may be across the room from each other now, but I still feel this sense of closeness. It fills a void in me I never quite understood. This is what I thought sex would provide, but it never did. The guys were every bit as much strangers to me after the deed as they were before. And now I’m really confused.

He flops down into the chair. “I really want you to be there. Can we find an excuse to have you there?”

“Um…” I rub my face with my hands before I realize it’s not a very attractive move. He’s found his way into my personal space in every possible way.

“I’ll think of something,” he says.

“Tell me to get breakfast for everyone.”

“You’re not my intern, though. You’re Aidan’s.”

“He stole a bunch of your rights. You steal his intern. I can complain about what an arrogant…um…person you are.” I catch myself before I break into casual swearing. The game’s not up yet. I can still pretend to be the girl he wants for a little while longer.

He laughs. “And that’s the perfect cover. I order you around. You act annoyed. People will think we get on each other’s nerves. They won’t know we’re together now, if that’s what you want? I’m also happy to tell the world, though.”

My stomach gives a little flip-flop. He’d tell the world? If only that weren’t a catastrophically bad idea… “No, let’s keep this on the down low. Pretend to annoy each other and stuff.”

“I like it.” He glances at his phone. “I should sneak back to my room.”

“You want your shirt?”

“No. That a joke? Although I wouldn’t mind seeing you take it off, let’s wait on that one.” He winks at me and saunters over to the door. “I expect brunch arranged and served at ten sharp.”

“Roger.”

“But if you need help—”

I snort. “My stepmom’s a chef. I was in craft services on your last movie set. I got brunch.”

“Well, don’t let me
actually
slave-drive you.”

“It’s cool.”

“Sweet dreams,” he whispers as he slips out my door.

I collapse back on my bed. Surely this contract affair doesn’t have to be a disaster? There’s no denying it could be, though. I wish I knew more about Aidan Greer. I tap out a text to Jason asking what he can find out about this particular director-slash-producer.

I get
some pastries from a bakery around the corner and arrange with the hotel for a big pot of coffee and another one of hot chocolate, which seems to be a popular breakfast drink here. Zach also tasks me with getting five printout hard copies of the contract, which Amy and the concierge help me with.

Aidan catches me in the hall with one of the concierge people and says with surprise, “You speak Portuguese too?”

I break off my instructions to get the contract printed out, switch gears in my head, and say, “Spanish. Lots of people here speak Spanish.” Especially in the tourism industry. The concierge person points out that the margins of the printout will be smaller because of the different paper size. I assure her that it isn’t a big deal.

Aidan catches on to what I’m doing and says, “Wait, why are you getting copies of the contract?”

Oh…right. He’s my boss, and here I am, helping the band fight him. I am an
idiot
. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” I improvise. “Zach Wechsler told me to make copies of whatever this is and…I
told
him I don’t work for him.”

“No, but he’s had his eye on you,” says Aidan. “I’ll talk to him.”

This is going to be awkward.

Everyone convenes in Zach’s room. Some seat themselves on his couch and others pull chairs over from the dining table. As the logistics worked out, the only people here are ones who will travel to Geneva on the private jet. Everyone on a commercial flight has already left and is likely on their plane already. I set the pastries down on the coffee table five minutes after the scheduled start of the meeting, just as Zach instructed. Copies of the contract have already been handed around.

“Stick around please,” Zach orders me.

I don’t have to feign the confusion and slight terror I feel as I take a seat.

He pretends not to notice and stands while everyone else sits. Ben waggles his eyebrows at me and Logan just looks lost.

Rick is also on his feet, his arms folded and a look of pure irritation clouding his features.

Aidan is relaxed, his feet stretched out and an easy smile on his face. “There a problem, Zach?” he asks.

“We need to review the contract.” My boyfriend-of-eight-hours holds up the stapled sheets of paper. “I want final cut.”

“No can do.” Aidan’s reply isn’t exactly rude, but it isn’t polite either.

“Why do we care about this?” asks Ben.

“Because you’ve already got footage of fights and people drunk,” says Zach to Aidan. “This movie is supposed to be fun. Like a virtual concert for our fans with a little back stage time.”

“I agree,” says Aidan, “but I can’t work if I feel second-guessed all the time. Just because I
could
make the movie a certain way doesn’t mean I will. Long contract negotiations mess up the relationship here, and a contract that restricts what I can do is a hassle. I just want the freedom to do a good job for you guys without having to look over my shoulder all the time.” The way he says it is perfectly convincing.

“I’m not comfortable with this,” says Zach.

“Oh please,” snaps Ben. “Seriously? You want to do this now? We signed. They’re shooting us. End of story. I’m out of here.”

He gets to his feet.

“Freeze,” Zach orders him.

“Bye.” Ben saunters across the room and towards the door. This is a problem because he’s one of the signatories on the contract.

“Ben,” I snap.

That stops him in his tracks. He mutters under his breath and stalks back to his seat.

“He’s not worried,” says Aidan with a sidelong look at me.

Why can’t I keep my big mouth shut?

“He isn’t all that concerned with our image,” Zach points out. “He wouldn’t care if the world saw every ugly moment.”

“I’m right here,” says Ben. “Don’t say ‘he.’”

“Zach, calm down.” Aidan holds his hands out, palms up. “We already discussed this. I share your vision. We’re making something fun here. Not something that’s going to win me awards in documentary filmmaking.”

Zach’s still on edge, though. “Our lawyer has instructed us to end the tour.”

“Well, how do you think that would look?” asks Aidan.

“It’s our one way out of the contract. Your rights are only to film this tour.”

“End your tour and you leave me with only the footage I’ve got and not much incentive to work with you when it comes to how the final product looks. We’ve got to have a relationship of mutual respect here.”

“So if we break the contract, you’ll smear us?” says Zach. “Sounds like blackmail.”

“Oh, quit with the drama.” Aidan shrugs. “I’ve invested a lot already. I’m out a lot of money. All the equipment we’re renting for future shows? Those deposits aren’t refundable, and I need to make a living here. I suggest you keep going with your tour and give me more footage so we can do this right.”

Zach frowns.

Rick steps forward. “I don’t think this is conducive to a healthy working relationship, Zach.”

I wonder if his motivation is sinister or just a product of laziness. If it weren’t two a.m. in New Mexico, I’d have Jason on the phone. Even still, I’m tempted.

“Listen,” says Aidan, “this is the same contract that Giggle Gals had with Roger Manson for their concert movie. That’s where I got it, and that movie they made is an advertisement for the band from start to finish. You can call their manager to confirm that if you want. Also, consider this: what would be my motivation to smear you? If I ever want any further access to you guys, I’ve gotta stay on your side.”

He sits forward. “Here’s what I suggest we do next: you find some time to all sit and go over the media reaction to all the recent publicity. You guys talk about how you want your image to evolve. You got smeared by some of the media for that little zoo outing, for example, so let me show you that I know how to turn it around.”

“Right,” agrees Rick. “Aidan’s a master of this. It’s why I recommended him.”

Logan sits where he is, fidgeting. He looks even younger than usual.

“Go for it,” says Ben. “Cancel the tour. I don’t care.”

“Ben, come on.” Zach makes a placating gesture.

“No,
you
come on. Why are we wasting our time with this? This is stupid.”

“I’m trying to look out for our best interests.”

“Your
best interests,” says Ben.

“The band’s. Triple Cross’s.”

“If I—”

“Guys,” I intervene. “Break it up. Let’s focus here.”

Zach shoots me a very convincing glare. Ben only smirks.

But there isn’t much more to say. The problem is, Zach’s got no cards in his hand. Even if he did cancel the tour, the damage has been done. Aidan’s got plenty of blackmail material.

I watch Zach shut his eyes, and I feel for him. I want to get up, walk over to where he is, and hold him.

Instead, I clasp my hands in my lap.

He glances sidelong at me, but fortunately his gaze doesn’t linger. “Fine,” he says. “I want to trust you. That means when I ask you to stop filming, I want you to respect that.”

“I’ll
consider
it, but let me show you what I can do with media spin and you might not feel it’s necessary.”

“And I want to see all teaser clips before they go live.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Aidan speaks as if this is a small issue, an easy request to grant.

“And I want to see the documentary before it’s released. I may not have a right to demand changes, but I’d like the opportunity to request them.”

“Of course.” Again, Aidan makes this sound like no big deal. “Listen, I’m sorry if I did anything to make you doubt my intentions here. Really.”

“I suggest we cancel your interviews today in Geneva,” says Rick. “Given we’re already late. We should get a move on and give Aidan some time to film that footage he wants about the zoo trip.”

Zach hesitates.

There really isn’t anything else he can say other than yes. I wish his lawyer had armed him with something more substantial and less dramatic than a threat to end the tour. This is the first time he’s ever had a meeting like this; talk about being thrown in at the deep end.

“Okay,” he says. “Right. Let’s do that.” There’s no hint of his usual hyper-confidence.

“Can we go now?” says Ben.

Zach doesn’t answer, but everyone gets up and files out. “Wheels up in ninety minutes,” Rick announces as he exits.

The one person who lingers is Aidan, and he comes right over to me. “Kyra,” he says. “A word?”