“After the European tour. We agreed on that much.”
They had, but now Steve was worried that somehow, with three months to let his anger cool, Max would convince himself—and maybe Dare and Logan—that they still needed the thieving, backstabbing son of a bitch to rule their careers.
“Is money really that important to you?” Steve blurted, because dropping their label would naturally cut into their finances, at least temporarily. Even with the guy skimming money off the top, bottom and both sides, he did know how to promote a band and help them make buttloads of cash.
“It’s nice to have.”
Steve knew Max had been poor growing up, and maybe he hadn’t had the most loving family to make destitution somewhat bearable, but he had to know that there were things more important than driving a Rolls Royce and having a big house on a hill.
“I’m not exactly rolling in cash these days,” Max said quietly.
Steve gnawed on his lip. This was news to him. Maybe he should talk to Max more often. “If you’re having problems, maybe Dare could—”
“Save me from my own stupidity? Yeah, no. I don’t even want him to know about it.”
But he was confiding in Steve. The two of them had never been especially close. Not rivals, exactly, but tension always stood between them. Steve wasn’t sure if anyone was truly close to Max. He wasn’t the type of guy who let people in. He had a certain outgoing persona he shared openly with their fans, but it was superficial, and he never maintained it when he was out of the public eye. Very few people knew Max well. Dwelling on that fact now, Steve wondered if the reason Max always tried to protect Sam was because their manager was one of the few people Max had allowed to get close. Steve had always been baffled as to how anyone—especially someone as savvy as Maximillian Richardson—could be so blind to Sam’s shortcomings, that he’d never even considered the reason why Max defended him.
“I know you think we’re going to fail without the label backing us,” Steve said, “but we’re pretty amazing dudes.”
Max chuckled at that, but didn’t deny it.
“I think we can succeed without any record label at all,” Steve said, knowing they’d agreed to shop around for a new label before going full indie—which was what Steve really wanted.
Max shook his head. “You’re such a rebel.”
“He just doesn’t like anyone to tell him what to do,” Zach mumbled from the back seat.
Steve had thought Zach was out; how much had he overheard? Not that Steve worried about Zach blabbing secrets, but Max might. “Unless it’s some woman that he’s in love with. Then he’s a doormat.”
“I’m not a doormat.” He just liked his woman to be happy and didn’t care if it was at his own expense. So far, Roux hadn’t taken advantage of that tendency in him, but Bianca sure had.
“Total doormat,” Zach said. “That’s why he needs me on this tour, so his new girlfriend doesn’t take complete advantage of him.”
If thinking that Steve needed him for that reason got Zach to Europe, Steve wouldn’t argue. But he couldn’t stop himself from defending Roux. “She’s not like that,” he said. “She won’t take advantage of my generosity.”
“Well, if you guys are brave enough—or stupid enough—to actually go indie, you’d better watch your cash flow a bit closer, dumbass.”
“True. I probably shouldn’t have bought a friend of mine a new custom motorcycle for his birthday,” Steve said, drawing a finger to his lip. “Maybe I should cancel the order.”
“I’d still love you,” Zach said.
Steve decided that Zach had slipped into advanced drunkenness, where he became extremely sentimental. Max did not need to witness that. It could get too mushy to tolerate in a matter of seconds.
“You’re the only thing good in my life,” Zach said in a shaky voice.
“You only say that because it’s true,” Steve teased, reaching over the seat to punch him and help Zach check himself. He also gave Zach a silent warning to keep his distance, because he doubted that Max would understand if they hugged it out.
“Maybe we should try going indie for a year or two,” Max said, as if completely deaf to the conversation around him. “And if it doesn’t work out, I’m sure we can find a new label.”
Steve stomped his foot as if he had a brake pedal on his side of the car and jerked his head around to gape at Max. “Are you serious?” he sputtered.
“It’s just a couple of years,” Max said, shrugging.
Steve had no idea what was going on with Max to suddenly make him so open to change, but he thanked God for it, whatever it was. Afraid he’d change his mind, Steve didn’t push him for details or even hug him in a stranglehold. He wrestled down the euphoric excitement coursing through his veins and said, “That sounds reasonable.”
“Do you think Dare and Logan will agree?”
“I know Logan will,” he said. He and Logan had discussed going indie dozens of times.
“I’ll talk to Dare,” Max said. “See if he thinks this is the best course of action.”
Now wait a second. Max wasn’t going to take credit for this idea of going independent. Steve had been championing that goal for years. He tried not rocking the boat for at least three seconds before he blurted, “If this works out, this was all my idea. But if it fails, it was yours.”
Max laughed and said, “Either way, it was yours. Everyone knows that.”
And Steve could do nothing but stare in disbelief. He’d never known Max to be reasonable about risk or change. Maybe he had an identical less-evil twin who had assumed his identity when no one was looking. Steve wondered if the guy could sing. He’d sure like to keep him around.
Twenty-Four
Roux settled into the business class seat in which she’d be spending the next eight hours and tried to calm her nerves. She’d expected the excitement, the surreal feeling that this was finally happening. She’d even expected the overwhelming eagerness to see Steve when they landed in the UK. What she had not anticipated was feeling like she was going to toss her American cookies/British biscuits (she’d been practicing her British English) as the scope of the adventure squeezed in on her from all directions. She reached for the bullet on the bracelet around her wrist and found only the gorgeous diamond and ruby tennis bracelet that Steve had given her. She admired it for a moment, loving the significance it represented, but it did not calm her nerves. If anything, it made her more nervous. Not only would she be in the spotlight and making sure her performances were nothing short of perfect, but she’d be trying to figure out how to juggle a romantic relationship on top of that. She wouldn’t change any of it, but she was worried that she’d make a spectacular mess out of her career, her life, her romance.
Taking the seat beside Roux, Iona fastened her seat belt. Roux looked around for Raven, who was supposed to sit next to her, and found that she’d been stuck next to some stranger. Raven shrugged as if she didn’t care. Had Iona finally realized that Roux was avoiding her so she couldn’t let slip the plans she’d made with Steve for the next three months?
“Wasn’t it nice of Sam to spring for business class?” Iona stretched her feet out far in front of her. “Look at all this legroom.”
Roux knew about Sam’s treachery with Exodus End—not every detail due to a strict nondisclosure clause. Steve had forbidden her to even mention their troubles with their manager until after they officially split with him, but she was worried about how Exodus End’s crisis with Sam would affect her own band. Every instinct told her to warn them, but without Sam, they wouldn’t be where they were at all. Her need to protect her boyfriend by keeping quiet, and her sisters by blabbing everything she knew was tearing her in two.
“I’m not sure Sam is a good fit for us,” Roux said, hoping that statement was vague enough to keep Exodus End out of legal jeopardy while seeding a kernel of doubt into Iona’s head. Her second-eldest sister was a shrewd businesswoman at heart, and if Iona believed they had better options
, she wouldn’t hesitate to pursue them.
Iona snorted. “Yeah, being successful and pampered rock stars is so out of line with our goals. We’d never want to tour the world opening for an incredible band like Exodus End. We enjoy starving and not being able to pay our rent. Sure.”
“He’s just a little too slick in my opinion.”
“And that’s why he’s so good at what he does.” Iona patted her arm. “I know you’re not interested in the business side of music, and that’s okay. Stop worrying, sweetie, and let me figure out how to get us to the top. You concentrate on being the best keyboardist in rock and roll today and leave the logistics to me.”
Roux bit her lip to keep from blurting that Exodus End was going to fire Sam in a few months. She didn’t know why they were getting rid of him, but Steve had been so excited about ditching their manager that he’d told her they were firing him even though he couldn’t share any details. Surely Sam had done something truly awful to get himself axed. But maybe she was worried about nothing. Maybe Exodus End just wanted a change. The knots in her stomach weren’t buying her attempts to rationalize the situation.