my hand.
“That’s got my number on it,” he said. “I know you don’t want that. The other number is what you really want. Look at that and make a decision. Then text me. I’ll give you until tomorrow.”
“Oh, so you’re a fucking hero now?” I asked.
“No. I hope I don’t hear from you, honey.”
“Fuck you, Reed.”
He nodded. “It’s nice to see you too.”
“You just gave me your number,” I said. “Who’s to say I won’t post it online?”
“Go ahead,” he said. “I’ll just change the number. Or maybe I’ll use some of that rock star cash I have hanging around and get a lawyer and ruin your life.”
“You’ve already done that.”
“Hey, if you decide not to take the gig, I’ll book an appointment so you and your quartet can come sing to the guys. Can you do that? Sing something like so sorry but in a sliding harmony?”
I opened the door to the building and finally went inside.
I stood there for a minute.
When I peeked back outside, Reed’s car was gone.
I looked at the piece of paper and quickly closed my fist.
It was a lot of money on the table.
To go into the studio, sing a song, and then leave.
That was it.
I walked to the apartment and opened the door to find Valerie in her bra and panties, butt in the air, head upside down, looking at me from between her legs.
“Hey, Abby,” she said. “I’m just stretching my back out.”
I had nothing to say to that.
I walked around her and blinked really fast, hoping the image of what I had just seen would go away.
“Oh, Abby, before I forget,” Valerie called out. “Someone else called for you. Don’t you tell people your cell phone number?”
I looked at the table.
It wasn’t Clementine that called me this time.
It was Harriet.
Another fake name.
But a real reason to call me.
I looked back at Valerie. She bent her legs and threw her head back. There were parts and skin that was twisted and sagged that I never wanted to see ever in my life.
I opened my hand and unfolded the piece of paper.
I looked at both numbers.
Reed’s cell number.
And the number with the dollar sign in front of it.
I shut my eyes.
I already knew what I had to do.
My phone started to ring.
Reed told me to text him.
So I did.
And now he called me.
That was him being an asshole.
As usual.
“Reed,” I said.
“So you’re in?”
“I want the exposure,” I said.
“And the money.”
“Who doesn’t want money?”
“I’m not judging you for it,” he said. “Money is great.”
“You told me to text,” I said. “Why are you calling?”
“My hands are a little full,” he said with a laugh.
In the background I could hear music playing.
I heard the occasional voice.
“No, no, no, honey, don’t leave yet,” he said.
“What?”
“I wasn’t talking to you, Abby,” he said.
“Is that your girlfriend or wife?” a voice asked Reed.
“Are you serious?” I asked. “You have some whore with you and you call me?”
“She’s a Line Whore,” Reed said. “There’s a big difference.” Then he groaned. “Fuck, right there, honey. Just stay right there.”
“Goodbye, Reed.”
“Don’t hang up,” he said. “You need to know where to meet the band.”
“I know where the studio is.”
“We’re not going to the studio.”
“What?”
“We have to run through the song a… ahhhh… a little bit.”
I gritted my teeth. “What is she doing to you right now?”
Reed laughed. “You want to know? You want to be part of this?”
“Sorry I asked,” I said. “I’m hanging up.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Forget it then, Reed. I’m not going to play games.”
“I’m not playing a game,” he said. “You bothered me. I was in the middle of something.”
“You told me to text you.”
“I didn’t think you were going to go for it. Everything okay in life?”
I laughed. “Fuck you, Reed. You’re not saving me. It’s not like it was before. I want the money. I want my name on the song. I want to be paid every time it gets played.”
“And the live shows?”
“What?”
“The lives shows, honey,” he said. “You’ll get paid for those too.”
“Live… I didn’t realize…”
“I’ll text you the address to our practice space,” he said. “I better go. If I come while on the phone with you, it’ll be like we hooked up again. No need to make that mistake one more time, right?”
The call went dead before I could tell him to go fuck himself.
I put my phone next to me on the bed.
I pictured Reed in his house. Sitting in a chair. With women and music, booze and drugs everywhere. With some