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I furrow my brow. “But she slept with him.”
“To make me jealous. Yeah. But it’s what she did afterwards that’s the true measure of her heart. Her loyalty. Apparently, when Isabel and Troy were spending some ‘alone time’ together in the sack, he played her his band’s upcoming debut album. According to what Isabel told me, Troy started bragging about how he’d come up with each song on the album, what his ‘inspirations’ were, blah, blah. And during that conversation, that little shit started bragging to her about how he’d basically ripped off some no-name band’s lyrics and melodies on three tracks!”
I gasp.
“Thank God, Isabel had my back, despite everything. She came straight to me to tell me what he’d said to her. And I immediately went and listened to the songs that had ‘inspired’ Troy, and, holy fuck, he’d literally stolen them, practically note for note and word for word.”
“Oh my God.”
“I mean, all music is derivative in some way. All new songs have been influenced by whatever came before. But there was no question this was outright thievery. Textbook copyright infringement. And on three fucking songs.” Reed scoffs. “That I knew of. God only knows how many more songs he’d ripped off. So, anyway, right then and there, I knew I couldn’t release the album. No way. If someone had figured out the link to those stolen songs after release, River Records never would’ve weathered the shit storm. We were too new. Still building our reputation. It would have been fatal.”
I’m blown away. “This whole time I thought you destroyed Troy because of how much you loved Isabel.”
Reed scoffs. “No. I would have released that album, despite Troy sleeping with Isabel, if it hadn’t been for those stolen songs. Although, admittedly, I still would have beaten the shit out of him for fucking Isabel.”
I can’t help chuckling. “What happened with that? Did you head out, expressly planning to beat him up? Or was it a spur of the moment thing?”
Reed smiles wickedly. “I went out, specifically to beat his ass. Isabel came to me and told me about Troy’s thievery. And, of course, she made sure I understood she’d acquired the information from Troy while naked in his bed. So, I freaked out, for all the reasons I’ve described, not just about them having sex. All of it. So, I knew C-Bomb was having a party that night. So I headed over there, and beelined to Troy, and beat the hell out of that punk-ass little bitch, just for the sheer pleasure of it.”
I bite my lip. “I guess I’m not the only one who knows how to go ‘Left Eye Lopes’ on someone, eh?”
He winks.
“Troy didn’t tell me about the beating he took at your hands. I guess he didn’t want to come off as weak to the woman he was trying to pick up. He also didn’t tell me about the copyright infringement stuff. He only said you’d ‘blackballed’ him to your ‘powerful friends’ in the industry by telling them a pack of unspecified lies.”
Reed scoffs. “Oh, I blackballed him, all right. But only with the truth. I warned anyone who’d listen, even my rivals at competing labels, to steer clear of Troy because he was a liar and a thief.” He shrugs. “If that’s ‘blackballing’ someone, then so be it. He deserved it.”
“And now he plays every Tuesday and Friday night at Slingers.”
“Yeah, when I saw that place, and the bartender confirmed that’s his regular gig, I admit I was damned happy about it. I hope that little shit never plays a venue bigger than Slingers, as long as he lives.”
“Backstage, at the RCR concert, when you told me you’ve ‘trained’ the guys on your roster not to sleep with anyone you’ve slept with, you were talking about Troy, I presume?”
“Of course. The guys on my roster have all heard the legend of how Reed dumped a guy’s band, and beat his ass, solely for sleeping with his ex. Why should I tell anyone the whole story? The legendary version adds to my mythos as a hard-ass prick. It helps keep everyone in line, in all sorts of ways. Plus, it’s a disgrace I never realized Troy’s songs were stolen in the first place. Believe me, I’m much more careful and knowledgeable about that sort of thing now. But, yeah. For a whole bunch of reasons, I let everyone think I’m just that ruthless.”
I laugh. “I love you so much.”
“Glad to hear it. Because I love you.”
“So...” I say. “There’s something else I want to talk about. Two things I need to come clean about, actually.” I take a deep breath. “Stephanie Moreland. I already had a copy of her complaint when I asked you about her in your kitchen.”
“I know,” he says. “After you got drunk and passed out that night, when I put you to bed, I noticed her complaint sitting in a box at the foot of your bed.”
