Surge

The thought of Nora’s lasagne made me smile. She’d offered me a takeaway container for my flight back. As amazing and succulent as her dish was, I didn’t think cold was how I wanted to eat it. Saying that, when I’d bought a limp salad with dubious chicken at the airport, I’d wished I’d taken her up on it.

ME: Jealous. I’m eating at a vegan restaurant with Tyran tonight. I could use some meat.

DRAKE: I see that double entendre.

ME: *smiling devil emoji*

“Texting Drake, are we?”

I nearly jumped out of my seat I’d been so caught up in the moment. Tyran and a cocked smile gazed down at me.

“Your face has that look of craving written all over it, and I know you’re not hot for avocado toast.”

I put my cell down. “Avocados are bad for the environment.”

“I know. What will vegans do?” Tyran threw up his hands to heave.

“Guess we’ll find out tonight,” I said, picking up the menu.

My phone buzzed. I grabbed it. Drake sent an eggplant and water emoji. My shoulders came up along with an involuntary goofy grin, but I stopped short of giggling.

“Oh God… if Drake sent you a dick pic while we’re at dinner… not cool. It’ll scare the staff in a place like this. Plus, no cells at the table.”

It was a Lewis family rule. And to be fair on Tyran, even if I met him for lunch in the middle of the day, he’d typically abide by it.

“Just one more…”

I typed: I’ll call you later from my bed. With Tyran now. Yes, I will say hi for you, and hold that and every other dirty thought. I put my phone in my handbag.

“So how is the big guy? Holding up?” Tyran glanced over the menu and put it down.

“You already decided?” I asked.

He nodded.

I read the menu, and it actually looked enticing. “He’s… yeah… holding up.” I met Tyran’s eyes. “The lawsuit should float away in a couple weeks if all goes well, but damn if his health hasn’t suffered. He’s tired a lot.”

“Fuck. Sounds like depression.”

“He’s not depressed.” Or at least I didn’t think so. Or hoped not. “Maybe.” I conceded.

“It’s a lot to go through. I can’t even imagine if someone was suing the agency. It’s not even about winning, there’s a kind of embarrassment that goes along with something like that. Someone questioning your integrity publicly?” He shuddered. “Nightmare.”

I hadn’t stopped to think too much about that part of the equation. I’d definitely thought about the logistics—the money, the time, the concern over Drake’s future contracts with RI. I’d even thought about the fact that this was still sensitive since he’d had such a wonderful relationship with the Frys (and the more I heard, the more I realized maybe Drake had gotten more from Jason’s family than from Jason ever in the total sum of their relationship).

I’d never thought much about the integrity question. But one thing I did know was that Drake had bags of it that he protected like a Spanish Armada hoard. Maybe it was depressing for him to think about his reputation shifting. Something like that you didn’t necessarily get back immediately and certainly not as easily if meditation took place behind closed doors. Sure, RI would do a press release after, clearing the air, but it wasn’t as though Drake would bring it all up with his TikTok fans or on stage or anything. Unlike an established artist, he probably didn’t think he had that much fan loyalty.

On the other hand, people just didn’t care that much about these things.

I knew it would make no difference to his career, but maybe it was about more than that to him. Actually, I was sure it was. That was the kind of guy Drake was. He was a good guy. So good that he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else thinking otherwise.

The server came over and took our order.

Tyran put the menu back in the center stand. “I’m sure Drake will pull through in due course. At least Quinn is out of the way now, too.”

“How did you know about that?”

“Mom.”