“I imagine you must have your hands full with Phoenix.” I wince. “I’ll try to do a better job, so things will be easier for you.”
Her nose crinkles. “Phoenix is definitely a handful, but he’s not the biggest problem child of the group.”
That’s news to me. “He’s not?”
She gives me a sad smile. “Nope. That was Josh.” Something peculiar crosses over her expression and her lips press into a firm line. “Now it’s his brother Memphis.”
Safe to say she’s piqued my interest. “What’s going on with Memphis?”
“Please keep this information to yourself.” Sighing, she rubs her temples. “Although it’s now public knowledge thanks to the TMZ article that broke yesterday.”
Uh-oh. “I won’t say a word.”
I couldn’t even if I wanted to since I signed an NDA. Besides, Memphis isn’t the one I want to destroy.
“Two women have come forward claiming to be pregnant with his baby.” She exhales sharply. “One is a famous reality TV star, and the other…”
Her mouth clamps shut and she recoils, almost like it makes her physically sick to say the words.
“The other is a minor,” she croaks after a moment.
I get why she looks so queasy.
“Wow…that’s…”
“I know.” Taking the elastic from her wrist, she piles her long, blonde hair into a knot on top of her head. “Between Phoenix’s intoxicated antics and the stories about Memphis surfacing, Chandler thought it would be a good idea for me to come on tour.”
I can understand why. “Yeah—”
I stop talking when the door to the bunk area opens and Phoenix and Memphis stagger out.
Frustration swells inside me as I zero in on the now empty bottle in Phoenix’s hand.
“Don’t mind us,” Memphis slurs. “We just came to get a refill.”
Skylar and I exchange an uneasy glance.
And then we get up from the table and handle our problems.
I watch Skylar shuffle through a stack of paperwork while we sit on the sofa in the greenroom. “What are you doing?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
Safe to say that only piques my curiosity more.
Sensing this, she makes a face. “Given what’s happening with Memphis, I decided to make a few spreadsheets with everyone’s hookups and the cities they took place in. This way, I can keep track of things.”
I blink. “How in the world would you know all that?”
Granted, she’s been with the band for four years, but there’s no way she’d be able to keep track of every hookup they’ve had.
“I don’t. These are just the ones I do remember.” She pulls another face. “Along with the results of everyone’s most recent STD test that I had them get yesterday.” She circles something with her pen. “I don’t want any more surprises or TMZ articles.”
Can’t say I blame her.
Curiosity strikes again and I eye the pile. I can’t help but wonder just how long Phoenix’s hookup list is.
I’m not as stealthy as I’d hoped, though, because Skylar catches me trying to sneak a peek. “George or Phoenix?”
“What?” I say as the song the band was playing comes to an end.
Seeing as Phoenix doesn’t perform my song anymore, they should be walking in here any moment.
“You don’t strike me as dumb, Lennon.” Her voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “Who are you interested in? George or Phoenix?”
“Neither.”
While I like Skylar, I’m not fond of this trick question.
Hurt flashes across her face. “And here I thought we were going to be friends.”
The last thing I want to do is upset someone who already has so much to be upset over.
“George,” I fib because I don’t want her to get the wrong idea about my feelings for Phoenix.
She studies me as the first few bars of “Cryin’” by Aerosmith fill the venue.
“Why are they playing that?”
Skylar places the cap back on her marker. “Since Phoenix is still hell-bent on no longer singing Sharp Objects, I told him he should give a nod to his favorite artists that came before him and sing one of their songs at the end of every show. This way we could spin his bout of defiance into something positive and fans will stop complaining so much.”
From a PR perspective, that’s a genius move, but personally, I hate it.
I was enjoying watching Phoenix suffer whenever it came time to sing my song.