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“Let me talk to Brodie and Greg first, and I’ll get back to you, all right?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
“Fuck!” I exclaimed after I tapped to end the call.
Before I could do anything, my phone rang again. It was Dawson this time.
“Dawson? Aren’t you here on site?”
“Regan sent me back to Brodie’s. I did some digging on that van, and I got a hit, so I thought you’d want to know right away. The vehicle belongs to a journalist named Jordan Jakes. Odd thing is, he used to work at Bandit seven years ago. He reported directly to Greg.”
Son of a bitch.
“Thanks, Dawson. I appreciate the information.”
“No worries.”
I hung up and started googling Jakes.
There were various pictures of him from 2016 at Bandit event parties as well as concerts. And one of him and Greg standing side by side at the annual Music Hall of Fame event.
I tapped my phone and dialed Greg. I didn’t care that it was late at night, I was so fucking enraged.
“Van.”
“Jordan Jakes,” I bit out.
“What about him?”
There was only a slight pause in Greg’s reply, but I noticed.
“He was the first van parked outside Brodie’s. You tipped him off. And I bet you also had that pap in Nashville follow us to the airport.”
“I did.”
“What the fuck, Greg?”
“I was ticked off by your lack of disclosure after the concert. I know everything that goes on in my business, and from what I was seeing and hearing, albeit from a distance, it was clear that something was going on between you and Brodie. That clause in your contract is there to protect the label. And you and the people you work for and with. Mostly to protect my business. But after the concert videos surfaced and you took off with Brodie to Rhode Island, I had time to think about what was going on. I realized that you and him probably wasn’t a one-off thing. And the fans were gonna eat that shit up.”
“And so, what, you figured you would have us tailed and photographed for more publicity?”
“Twenty-plus years in this biz, and you’re surprised, Van? Come on. Don’t act fucking stupid.”
“I just got off the phone with Zoe. This reporter dug into my personal life, and I have no idea what the story is going to read like, not to mention that he apparently has photos of me and Brodie when we assumed we had privacy—”
“You know better than most that the love life of a celebrity, especially one as big as Brodie, is always of interest. If you plan to stay with him, get used to it.”
I fucking hated to admit it, but Greg had a point.
I was still pissed because, yeah, sending that asshole here to spy on us was a dick move on his part.
But I would have to get used to being in the public eye. There would be no turning back. My privacy, my life as I knew it, was gone.
“What now?” I asked.
“I’ll arrange a conference call with you, Zoe, and Brodie. Let’s devise a plan to get the most out of this development. Then we’ll talk about your re-assignment.”
“Now wait—”
