Chapter 27

I emerged from the back room when I heard Liz’s voice raise in anger. I found Jill, Stephanie and Ryan already in the room and Liz on her phone.

“That’s just too bad,” she said.

“It’s part of your contract, Liz,” a snarky voice said though the speaker. “We’re calling it a promotional appearance and you’re obligated to attend.”

“You need to get better lawyers, Mr. McHenry,” Liz shot back. “Personal and promotional appearances require 30 days notice. It’s right there in black and white. Just because I’ve acquiesced in the past does not require me to do it now or in the future. So I’m telling you flat out: Anything you have scheduled for me for the next 30 days you can cancel if you have no confirmation from my staff. Anything you schedule for me from now until the end of my contract will include my boyfriend. So, you can call Hiram Davis and tell him dinner is still on but he might want to bring a date because I’ll have one.”

“God damn it, Liz,” the voice seethed. “That guy’s a nobody. Toting him around doesn’t do you or us a bit of good!”

“Screw you, Mikey,” Liz said. She noticed I was in the room and cringed. I gave her a smile. I knew I was a nobody and it didn’t bother me to have it confirmed by someone I probably wouldn’t like very much if I met him. “I’ve told you how it is. Travis is here and I’m not going anywhere without him. And having him around has done both of us some good. I’m in a good enough mood that I only thought about how easy it would be to have you killed for a second. I usually get all the way to actually plotting it out before I get my temper in check. See? He’s already paying a dividend for you.”

“You just need to think about things from a professional prospective,” the guy said. “A large part of your popularity is the fact that girls see you with guys they would love to date. You’re living their fantasy and it gives them hope. You need to think about how trotting out a waiter affects the fans.”

“He’s not a waiter,” Liz said. “He’s a former professional baseball player with a college degree and a career. And I am thinking of my fans. The show in San Diego that you said would be a waste turned out to be a killer. You saw the reviews. Even a woman that hates country music said the show was the first she’d seen in years that she would willingly pay to see again. The fans were boss and I was dead on every time. Merch sales were through the roof and I had 3,000 fans show up just for an autograph. I could have sold out three straight nights there. You’re going to see the same thing in a couple of days. I’m riding a wave and it’s because I happened to run into Travis again.

“Aren’t you the one that always says you can’t argue with success? Well, take your own advice and shut up about it. Either way, the decision is made. There is nothing in my contract about RFN controlling my personal life. There is nothing in there that obligates me to spend time with people I can’t stand. By the way, you might want to start making calls cancelling whatever you’ve got set up at the Beverly Wilshire. I’m not there and I’m not going to be there.”

“Where are you?” the man asked urgently.

“That’s none of your business,” Ryan cut in. “I determined that you people had made plans that threatened Liz’s safety. She is staying at an undisclosed location and it will remain undisclosed to you until you learn to keep your trap shut about it.”

Liz shot Ryan a look and he nodded sheepishly.

“Liz, I have to know where you’re staying,” the man said.

“No, I’ve decided you don’t,” Liz countered. “Again, look at the contract. You are required to provide lodgings for me and my staff. I am not required to use them. I checked with my attorney on this and a few other things recently. I’m going to live up to the letter of the contract until it expires. I’m not doing a single thing for RFN that is not written down on paper and signed by me. Incidentally, the Dodgers sent a notification of logistical changes to RFN six weeks ago and my people didn’t find out until Friday. The extra costs are coming out of your pocket and I’ll sue you to make sure they do.”

“You might want to be careful about making threats like that,” the man said.

“If you want to make a run at me for breach, have at it,” Liz said angrily. “We can go back and forth on this and I think you know who will wind up paying. I’ll not only bankrupt you bastards, I’ll make sure RFN can’t sign the yodeling champion of Yazoo County to a contract.”

The man let out a long breath.

“Let’s take a step back, Liz,” the man said, his voice more conciliatory than earlier.

“No,” Liz said. “I think you need to take a step back, Mikey. I’ve been pushed as far as I’m going to be pushed. If you don’t back away immediately, I’m going to start pushing you back. You won’t like that very much.”

“I doubt things will wind up like you think they will,” the man said.

“I have no illusions about how things will happen,” Liz declared. “But I’m pretty sure you’re living in dreamland if you think I’ll go down alone. Anything you have on me, I have on you. Anyone you trot out to make allegations is going see the same allegations thrown back at them. We’ll see who the public believes. You might think I’m just some hayseed you plucked out of obscurity and, 10 years ago, you would have been right. But I’ve grown and I’ve learned. I’ve surrounded myself with people that have my interests at heart, not your bottom line. I’ve got people here that will tell me the truth even when I don’t like it. We know the games you’re playing and the steps you’ve got in the works. You seem to have forgotten something really important, Mikey. You’re a faceless corporate entity in a society that has grown to hate corporations. I’m the living, breathing embodiment of everything that civilized people hold dear.

“You might think it’s my ego talking but before you make a decision you’ll regret, you better run your plans up the ladder or you’re going to find yourself unemployed. And I’ll make sure you’re unemployable. Even without RFN, I have enough money to ruin your life and still live comfortably for the rest of mine. So, if you want to bring the lawyers in, have at it. But you make damned sure you understand that contract because I do. And if you fuck with me over things, I’m going to jam it down your throat. Do I need to say this any clearer?”

“No,” the man said in a tight voice. “I think we understand each other pretty well. I’ll have legal review your contract and be in touch.”

“I’m done with you,” Liz said. “If you have anything to say, you can contract my attorneys. And I’m going to let RFN know that your immediate dismissal is going to be the starting point of negotiations in a few months. Every time you utter a syllable, the odds on me signing again grow smaller and smaller. So you might want to remember who provides the butter for your bread.

“One more thing. Those rooms at the Wilshire are on your tab. I’ve already let the hotel know that we will be unwilling to assume responsibility for payment – or for damages. You might want to get moving on cancelling whatever you have in mind or you’ll have to deal with the fallout from a quarter million dollars in damages to the rooms and a dead donkey in the pool tomorrow. Those two cannot be trusted without adult supervision and I am never going to play the role of babysitter again. That’s my contribution to RFN’s corporate ledger today.”

Liz ended the call and put the phone down gently on the table.

The four of us in the room exchanged glances. All of us were a bit stunned.

“The gloves are off,” Liz said.

“I’m sorry about jumping in there,” Ryan said.

Liz shook her head.

“I know you were trying to keep me from doing what I just did,” Liz said. “But I’ve thought things through over the weekend. RFN must have a pretty solid indication that I’m going to look elsewhere or get market value for my talent from them. Forcing my price tag down is only a workable option if they are the only ones bidding. Otherwise, the market will set the price. McHenry didn’t provide that information to them. We all know that.”

“Uh, who is that guy?” I asked.

“He’s the vice president of artist relations for Radio Free Nashville,” Stephanie explained.

“So he’s pretty high up?” I wondered.

“Mid-level,” Stephanie replied after a moment to consider the question. “RFN is a lot like most corporations. They have a hundred vice presidents. He has 20 or 30 people above him on the food chain. His compensation is tied directly to how much money RFN earns from a particular artist. His group is the one that handles bookings and promotions. Liz is the only artist he is directly responsible for. So I would say that of the six or seven people with his title, he’s at the top. But he’s nowhere near the top of their corporate structure.”

“OK,” I said. “So ruining him is a viable option. I just wanted to assess that before we got too far along. Thanks. I’ll listen quietly again.”

“This is where I’ll want your input,” Liz said, looking at the clock on her phone. It was only 5:20. “I wish I’d had you see if we can conference in the others immediately.”

“We can,” I said. “They’re all hanging out at Rick’s today. The boys are on Spring Break and he has a pool. Eric was already home so they can take all the time you need whenever you need it.”

“Thanks, Travis,” Liz said. “I’m sorry that you heard what he said.”

“Fuck McHenry,” Ryan snarled. “That asshole would be sucking farts out of seat covers to pay his rent if it weren’t for Liz. Where does he come off calling anyone a ‘nobody?’ I’ll have to find someone else to go inside with you the next time you meet with him because I plan to knock his ass out the next time I see him.”

“It’s no big deal to me,” I said. “What did you tell Millie Scott, Liz? I’ve been called worse things by better people so big fuckin’ whoop.”

Liz grinned.

“Word for word,” she confirmed. “I’m glad you’re taking this so well.”

“You told me it would be this way,” I said. “I’m going to assess the worth of the person making the statement before I give it any credence. I’m OK if some Nashville fat cat thinks I’m a nobody if he’s OK with me thinking he’s a peckerhead.”

“He’s totally a peckerhead,” Jill said. “Wait until you see him. He thinks he’s Col. Parker or something.”

I saw smiles around the room and decided I shouldn’t ask who Col. Parker might be. I could look him up later. Liz apparently noticed my blank look, though.

“Col. Parker was Elvis Presley’s manager,” she said. “He dressed sort of like Mr. Moneybags on the Monopoly game. That’s Michael McHenry.”

“Oh, and he hates to be called Mike,” Stephanie added. “I would imagine his silk drawers developed quite a nasty stain when she started to call him Mikey.”

“So he’s an officious, pretentious peckerhead,” I said.

“Exactly,” Jill said. “It says exactly that on his business card: ‘Michael ‘Mikey’ McHenry, VP of Artist Relations, Officious, Pretentious Peckerhead.’ I’m going to print one of those up and see if someone in the offices will slip it into the next batch he orders. No, I’m going to see if I can get his next batch changed to that.”

“I wasn’t kidding,” Liz said softly. “Before I open any dialogue with RFN, he’s going to be shown the door. He can call me a slut if he wants. I don’t really care. But he crossed the line and he’s going to pay with his career.”

“Don’t...” I began.

“I told you I’m going to protect you if I can,” Liz said. “I had already decided he was to be demoted as part of the package. I was never going to deal with him again in any capacity. He’s always been the type to push around the young artists. He has all the power in that relationship and he abuses it. Now he’s going to get a lesson on what happens when you push someone with the ability to push back. Don’t try to talk me out of it.”

“OK,” I said. “So long as you’re positive you’re not going to regret it later.”

“I won’t,” Liz said with certainty. “Can you get the others on the line, please?”

I nodded and dialed Rick’s number. In less than two minutes, Liz’s marketing team, such as it was, was assembled in a quiet room of the house.

“OK, Operation Debunking Myths is a go,” Liz said.

“Uh, are we supposed to know what that is?” Susan asked.

“Probably not,” Liz said. “But since your husband is some CIA commando, I thought we should start using cool code names.”

“He’s not...” Susan said. “OK, fine. The truth is, his real name is Jason Bourne and he’s a covert operative with 3,000 kills under his belt. They wrote some books about him.”

“I knew it!” Ryan said. “Didn’t I tell you he was Jason Bourne? Please tell him I apologize if I got him into any hot water at work. I didn’t do any invasive research but the Pentagon was still pretty upset at me.”

“Travis told us,” Susan said. “Chris said no one said a word to him about it.”

“It comes back to him being Jason Bourne,” Liz said. “That man can kill you with a thumbnail. I saw it a movie and we all know movies are true.”

We all got a slight laugh before getting down to business.

“First of all, I want to thank all of you for giving me the time to sort through my thoughts on revealing my past transgressions to the public,” Liz said. “I know each of you has your own thoughts on the matter but I’m glad that you kept them to yourself in this case. It won’t be often that I ask you to do that but I think I had to make the final call on this without input from anyone else.”