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“Not the point, Greatty,” I said in exasperation.
“Go on. Read the rest.”
“Unlike her predecessor, Monahan doesn’t have a rock and roll pedigree, using her model good looks and book smarts to dominate the conversation.”
“Well, at least she acknowledges how beautiful you are.”
“I’m a musician, not a model. Now stop interrupting.” I took a breath before continuing. “According to Dr. Edmund Finnerman, one of her professors at Berklee, Monahan was a talented musician who excelled in her classes. She struggled, however, when it came to collaborative projects. In fact, the band she co-founded during her sophomore year, was offered a deal just before graduation. According to a source who wishes to remain anonymous, the band turned it down because they didn’t want to move forward with the project if Monahan was at the helm.”
“What?” Greatty stared at me. “What is she talking about? That never happened.”
“I wish I could sue her,” I said quietly. “But I can guess who the anonymous fucking source is.”
“Larry.” Greatty’s lips turned down. “Fucking little prick.”
My ex-boyfriend and former bandmate was apparently still a piece of work.
“The rest is basically a smear campaign on my personality, saying that everyone hated me in college, especially my band, and the reason I’ve worked at a studio since I graduated is because I don’t play nice with others. She ends with some ‘could this be nepotism’ and ‘only time will tell’ bullshit. Oh, and she insinuates I slept with Carter.”
“Why would that matter? Even if you did, how is that pertinent to you joining the band? It’s not like you knew he was going to commit suicide, so you threw yourself into his bed to somehow make sure he recommended you as his replacement? That’s a stretch, don’t you think?”
“For sure. I believe it’s more about making me look bad.”
“For what purpose? It makes no sense.”
I shrugged. “It sells magazines, so to speak. In this case, it sells advertising because this kind of thing generates a lot of clicks.”
“I’d like to click her upside the head.”
“I’m going to have to learn how to deal with it because there are always going to be haters. You know if he gets a chance, Larry will talk shit until the cows come home.” And he had a lot of shit he could talk about. I’d hoped he’d moved on, but now I had my doubts.
“It shouldn’t be that way.”
“No, but it is. Anyway, hopefully after the show tonight, they’ll have something else to talk about.”
“You’re strong, beautiful, and talented,” Greatty said softly, sincerity in her eyes. “This is something you’ve always wanted, so don’t let one incompetent journalist steal your joy. Okay?”
“I won’t.” I smiled back just as my phone buzzed. “Oh, that’s Dorian. Let me grab this. Good morning, Dorian.”
“Hey, Devyn. How are you? I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No. I’m an early riser.”
“Great. So, my phone and email are blowing up with people who want to interview you. I’ve told everyone I’ll get back to them once I know the band’s schedule, but I need you to tell me how much you’re willing to do.”
“I’ll do whatever the band needs me to do, but I’d like to sit down and come up with the boiler plate answers to questions like ‘did you sleep with Carter’ and ‘why did everyone in your old band hate you?’ I dated my old guitar player and the break-up was ugly, so if there’s any way for him to make me look bad, he will.”
“Oh.” Dorian sounded thoughtful. “All right. Let me think on it and I’m come up with some questions and answers. We can talk about them after the gig and once you’re happy, I’ll set up some press. Would you be comfortable doing them on your own or would you prefer at least one of the other guys is with you?”
“I…” As much as I wanted to pretend I was cool with all of this, I wasn’t. It was still overwhelming and that wasn’t going to change overnight. “I think I’d prefer to have one of the guys with me.”
“Absolutely. I’ll talk to King—he loves press—and we’ll come up with a schedule.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate your help, Dorian.”
“It’s my job,” she said. “And I’m really good at it, so don’t worry. I’m willing to bet after they see you live tonight, the dialogue is going to change. They’re going to be so in love with your playing style, they’ll forget all about how bitchy you are. You’ll see.” She was joking and I knew it, but I still winced.
“I hope so. I don’t want to make the band look bad.”
