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There’s a woman in Keith’s life. It isn’t me, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to tell the world about it.
Get ready, Keith. Your dirty laundry is getting hung out to dry.
Chapter 2
Keith
What the fuck, Todd?” I explode into my phone as I do my damndest not to hurl my computer across the room to shatter into a million pieces against the wall. “Have you seen this shit?”
Through the phone, I hear Todd, my manager, trying to placate me. “I know, Keith. And I’m sorry. I’m looking into it as quickly as I can.”
Quickly? I’m paying Todd a lot of money to make sure this isn’t something that needs to be handled quickly. In this particular matter, I’ve made it clear that this should never be an issue. “Todd, the headline is ‘Keith, who’s the girl?’” I fume as I keep reading. “Fans want to know who’s captured the heart of the rogue country star. Why would they even think there’s a girl? I’m not dating anyone. Everyone knows that.”
Todd sighs, and in my mind, I can see him now, sitting at his antique oak desk, the little vein in his left temple pulsing to his heartbeat. “That’s just it, man. Everyone knows you don’t date, and that’s . . . odd for a celebrity of your success. I tried to get you to do some image work . . . show up for a few awards shows with another star, but nooooo, you didn’t want to hear it. So people get curious.”
I’ve heard all of this before, but I hate being fake. There are too many wannabes and fake ass people in this business for my liking as it is. I refuse to be one too.
“Well, fuck everyone’s curiosity. My private life is my own. I sing songs, I make records, ones that have won some pretty sweet awards. I put on concerts, and we’ve done some damn good shows, I think. But that’s it, I’m not available for public comment on my private life. I don’t ask what they do with the life-sized posters I sign for them, and they don’t get to ask what I do in my home.”
Todd clicks into business mode, no longer trying to appease me, beginning the same conversation we’ve had over and over again for all the years we’ve worked together. I didn’t hire him because he’s a friend but because he knows the damn business. “Keith, there’s nothing to be ashamed of here. You went grocery shopping and bought supplies for your daughter. Maybe it’s time you tell the truth.”
I inhale deeply, counting to ten before I let it out, willing it to calm me. It’s maybe only slightly successful. “We’ve talked about this. No. Carsen is only twelve years old, and I want her to have as normal a childhood as she possibly can. If people know about her, she’ll get hounded nonstop. She’ll need a security detail to go to school, for Christ’s sake, and never be able to grow up on her own. Never mind the fact that people are going to do some simple math and figure out that I fathered a child when I was still in high school. That’ll start a whole other heap of questions, ones I don’t want to fucking go into. The public isn’t entitled to know about her, to have an opinion on what she’s wearing or how I’m raising her, or fucking bring up her mother. No.”
I can hear the resignation in Todd’s voice. We’ve had this argument too many times. “I know. And I understand. It’s gonna happen at some point, though. She can’t stay hidden forever.”
I chuckle darkly. “The hell she can’t. If Hannah fucking Montana could pull it off for years, so can I.”
Todd groans. “That was a fictional Disney show. And let’s face it, I doubt you want your daughter doing what Miley Cyrus is doing in the real world now.”
“I know it’s fictional, dumbass. But I’ll make sure Carsen has her fairytale Disney ending. She deserves that.”
“Fine, fine, I can see I’m getting nowhere with you,” Todd says, the exasperation with me obvious. His tone changes to one intended to be more placating. “Really, Keith . . . is Carsen okay after all of this?”
“Some bitch reporter made my little girl’s first period into an expose about how I’ve supposedly got some new fucktoy. Ten million people now know what brand of fucking maxi pads I bought for her!” I growl, pissed off. “How do you think Carsen is doing?”
I hear Todd gulp and have a little mercy on him. He’s kept my situation secret for nearly five years, a century in celebrity terms. “Sorry, man.”
I shake my head, sighing. “No, it’s okay. She’s doing fine, mostly. She didn’t realize that the feminine shit was what brought up the questions. Thinks it’s just the usual speculation.”
