He rubs his bright-red cheek. “I simply tried to have a conversation with your wife and asked if she’d be willing to do an interview.”
“Interview for what?” Skylar questions.
“To set the record straight about…” He flicks a hand in my direction. “I’m trying to save the band. Something their PR person should be focusing on instead of planning funerals.”
He’s lucky I’m being restrained because I want to snap his goddamn neck like a fucking twig.
“There’s nothing to set the record straight about, and Lennon’s not doing any interviews on my behalf.”
The fact he would even ask Lennon, let alone at her father’s funeral, makes me want to bash his skull in.
No wonder she bitch-slapped him.
Skylar appears equally agitated. “I told you I was handling it.”
“No, you’re not,” Chandler booms. “Being eye candy for Josh isn’t going to cut it anymore. You have an actual job to do.”
Memphis takes a step back, releasing me. Storm follows suit.
Chandler raises a hand. “Before you three beat me to a bloody pulp, hear me out. I may seem like the bad guy, but it’s only because I give a shit. If you drive this band into the ground, that’s it. You only get one shot at the top and the fall down is brutal.” His shoulders slump. “Individually, the three of you are exceptionally talented, but the three of you together? You blow any other band out of the water. Don’t fuck this up.”
I get what he’s saying, but Lennon’s more important than music.
“We’re taking a hiatus.”
“For how long?”
I shrug. “Until further notice.”
Staring him down, I take a step closer. “Don’t harass my wife again. Because they won’t be able to hold me back next time.”
It’s his one and only warning.
Frustrated, he drags a hand through his hair. “You’re making a mistake.”
No. My mistake was losing Lennon.
“Phoenix is taking some time off for his mental health,” Skylar says. “That’s the statement we’re putting out.”
Works for me.
However, it’s clear Chandler doesn’t like that one bit. “What about his marriage to Lennon? You need to tell the press.”
Skylar shakes her head. “No. Not yet.”
Chandler makes a face. “What do you mean no? That’s the only angle we have—”
“My marriage isn’t an angle,” I interject.
“I came up with a better approach.” Skylar straightens her spine. “We’re going to take the heat off Phoenix by diverting everyone’s attention to someone else.”
Chandler’s eyebrows shoot up to the sky. “Who?”
Her gaze lands on the guy standing next to me. “Memphis and Gwyneth.” She turns her attention back to Chandler. “I’ll plan the proposal on the plane ride home and then we’ll set up a meeting with the Barclay’s publicist and get the ball rolling. As long as Memphis and Gwen are center stage, it keeps the band relevant and it will buy us some time. At least for a little while.”
Nodding his approval, Chandler strokes his chin. “I like it.”
Of course he does.
“You should get started on it right away,” Chandler states. “We can’t afford to waste any more time.” He looks around. “The jet is fueled up and ready to go, so anyone who’d like to go back to California tonight better get their asses in the car.”
After exchanging goodbyes, they leave.
And then it’s just me and my wife…who’s back to staring at her father’s coffin.
The grave diggers lingering close by swap uneasy looks. They need to get started, but it’s clear they’d prefer not to have a family member watching them.
Walking back over, I take a seat next to Lennon. There’s a reason they don’t want people to stick around for this part.
“We should go.”
She keeps her gaze trained on the coffin. “No.”
Fuck. I don’t think her being here is a good idea, but whatever she wants, I’ll go along with.
“Then we’ll stay.”
Only, the moment they begin lowering the casket into the ground, Lennon starts crying.
The workers glance at each other, then at me…waiting for me to take control of the situation.
But I’m at a loss because I’ve never been in this position before.
When Josh died, I got drunk before the funeral and high immediately after.