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I laughed and closed the door behind him, giving a brief wave and thumbs up to my security team as I did. “That’s very diplomatic of you. Save it for the press conference we’ll probably end up giving over this.”
Jude grunted as he accepted a beer from Winston. “I thought I was done with press conferences.”
I snatched a beer out of Winston’s hand – they were my beers, after all – and danced ahead into the apartment, leading the brothers like a pied piper towards the seating area. “Yeah, well, don’t worry your little heads. I know how to take the limelight off my brothers. I’ve been doing it for a while now, anyway, since all of you decided to cozy up with your newwives.”
Winston pouted in my direction. “Awe, jealous?”
I scrunched up my face. “Not at all. I’m still living the bachelor lifestyle, and positively loving it.”
Winston gestured with the beer bottle to the guitar stood up at the other end of the vast open-plan room. “Yeah? Does your bachelor lifestyle involve living your glory days as a rockstar, playing sad songs to yourself alone in your apartment?”
Well, he’d got me there. I feigned clutching my chest. “Ouch.”
“Leave off him, guys.” Forest was always sensitive to any discord amongst us. “We all know he’s the next target for Apollo. Don’t give the guy any more grief than he already has.”
“Grief? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m grief-free. Smooth and easy.”
Forest looked at me with some concern. “I’ve got a number for a-“
I jabbed him playfully in the chest. “Don’t you dare offer me the number for a therapist, Forest Brock. My brain is perfect. It needs no tinkering.”
Forest grinned. “Whatever you say. Shall we get started?”
One by one, we all located our hardback copies of Apollo’s book. It was entitled: “The Black Sheep: The Lives and Lies of My Brothers”, an unsurprisingly on-the-nose subtitle. The book itself was a huge, hefty tome, detailing mainly the past two decades since Emory Brock’s passing.
I’d known about a week before the release that the book was going to drop. Despite being the CEO ofBrock Entertainment, the wing of my dear biological father’s business that had dealt with everything media related, I hadn’t been able to procure an advance copy of the manuscript. My connections were worthless when it came to Apollo Brock. It had made me distinctly uneasy.
So, after convening, we’d waited patiently for release day. The copies had landed on our doorsteps, signed with a little personal note from Apollo, on the morning of publication.
We all took our turns venting about the various tales Apollo had told about our businesses and our personal lives. He had an imagination, that was for sure. Each lie contained just a kernel of truth in it, that made it seem more convincing than by right it should.
“So, what now?” Forest closed his copy of the book. He was most secure when he had a plan.
Winston shrugged. “Do we sue him?”
“It seems like that’s what he wants us to do.” Jude clasped his fingers together in front of his face, puzzling it over.
Forest nodded. “That’s true. And if that’s what he wants us to do, he likely has something planned for when we do it.”
I set my book down on the coffee table, turning it over so I didn’t have Apollo’s face leering up at me. “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’ve heard a sequel is in the works. If he’s already a household hero, he’s determined to cement that status, and continue to make things difficult for us, I guess.”
Winston threw his book down in disgust. “He clearly didn’t write this himself, right? He’s not spent months tinkering away at a manuscript in his little villain’s lair...”
“That’s a good point.” Jude frowned, the bulky muscle around his neck and shoulders rippling in thought. “Who did write this?”
Forest was scanning the copyright page towards the start of the book. “He’s not credited a co-writer, so I’d imagine he’s contracted a ghost-writer under a non-disclosure agreement. Their identity is supposed to remain totally anonymous.”
I raised my hand like a kid in class. “I may not have been able to wrangle my connections to get us an advance copy of that manuscript, but there are many people in the entertainment industry who owe me a favor. I bet I could get us the identity of the ghost-writer.”
Forest seemed relieved that there was some course of action. “That’s a start.”
I grinned. “Finally, a use for my skills other than bringing news helicopters to help you three out.”
Winston jabbed a lazy finger at me. “Hey, we never asked for helicopters.”
“Forest’s wife did once, thank you very much. You know, they’re handy in all kinds of situations...”
Forest tilted his head to the side, a slight smile about the corners of his lips. “But not tracking down an anonymous writer, I presume.”
