Cid threw his head back and laughed. “It’s part of the deal. You’ve got the music skills, but that won’t cut it in today’s market. You’ve got to have the image. As it is, you’ve already got one deadbeat on this team.” Cid flung an open-handed gesture toward Taz. “You could both take some notes from Ramsey.”
There was a blur of motion from the side. A hard smack, and Cid went stumbling across the suite. Drake stood there, his fist still in the air. “No one trashes my teammates or Kate.”
The polo-shirted crew members had backed off. Cid made the mistake of looking toward them. His expression tightened when he realized they were sitting it out—waiting it out, actually. They were going with the winner. He jerked his suit jacket down and faced off with the members of Toxsin.
“I’ve worked with the best,” he snarled. “Mega-superstars! And I know how to make sure they stay that way.”
“Yeah, your résumé is impressive,” Syon drawled. “Unless I consider the fact that none of those heavy hitters kept you.”
“I’m getting a clue why that might be,” Ramsey added.
“Do you have any clue what a bitch like that one can take from you?” Cid pointed at her. “She’s going to want to play house. A divorce will cost you a bundle, even with a prenuptial.”
“You’re getting the cart in front of the horse,” Kate interjected. She started toward Cid, but he sniffed at her, dismissing her.
But Syon had gone deadly still. “Did you have that roofie slipped to her?”
Cid paled. “Don’t be ridiculous.” But a trickle of sweat made its way down the side of his face, his poise suddenly faltering. Just a smidgen, but enough to outrage her. Kate took one step toward him, only to have Yoon slip an arm around her and pull her back.
Syon pulled his arm back and punched Cid straight on the jaw. Cid went down, unable to recover, and ended up sprawled on his butt.
“Anything to protect your meal ticket,” Syon said in disgust. “She could have been killed.”
“You can’t accuse me of that.” Cid was back on his feet.
“I just did,” Syon said, cutting through Cid’s argument. “You’re the only one with an agenda that needs Kate out of my life. You had motive, opportunity, and as you’re so fond of telling me, you can get anything.”
Syon suddenly moved. He jerked one of bags out of the hand of one of Cid’s entourage members. He opened it and dumped the contents onto the dressing-room table. He grabbed a small plastic ziplock bag that had a white pill in it.
“You forget, Cid, I’m not an idiot. I know what this is.” He looked back at the table. “As well as a couple of those other mystery bags.”
Cid pointed at the girl who was carrying the bag. “That wasn’t in my pocket bag. I’ll toss her out too.”
The girl gasped, shocked to her core by the betrayal. Cid didn’t even blink. “But you told me—”
“Oh, please.” Cid cut her a hard look. “I’m a professional. I wouldn’t have told any team member to bring drugs into a performance area.”
“You did!” The girl insisted, looking toward Syon. “He wanted to scare her, make her think you were the one who liked to party hard. He’d heard about her rules. Thought she’d leave if there were drugs here.”
“Shut up!” Cid snapped. “You’re just trying to deflect. The dope was in your purse. I have managed mega—”
“You are full of shit,” Syon snarled. “No wonder you were looking for a new band. What did you do? Get a gag order to shut up your last client? Is that why the background check came back clean?”
“You fucking asshole,” Ramsey hissed. “We don’t drug our women.”
“You need your ass kicked,” Taz added.
“And how.” Drake had lost every last bit of his British composure.
Cid’s complexion turned gray. He looked around again, but no one was coming to his rescue. The girl was sobbing, babbling about how he’d told her to buy the drugs. The tension in the air was twisting tighter, Syon and his bandmates looking like they were getting ready to spring.
Kate didn’t have an ounce of pity for him. He suddenly stiffened, some of his confidence returning.
“Go on,” Cid said smugly. “In a court of law, I’ll win over the four of you any day. All I need is a hospital report.” He cast a glance at Kate. “A bitch who has pictures of her tits all over the Internet sure isn’t going to generate much sympathy as the reason for an assault. No one is going to believe she didn’t take the dope herself, or that one of you didn’t give it to her so she’d go for double time. It won’t be hard to get pictures of the three of you on that dance floor groping each other. Drunk or high, it looks the same to a jury.”
Syon pulled his arm back, but Ramsey stopped him. “He isn’t worth it.”
Syon was fighting. She could see him battling the urge to tear Cid apart. Part of her needed to see it, needed the balm for her wounded pride.
But the rational side of Kate’s brain couldn’t let Syon put himself at risk either. “He’s an opportunist prick. Don’t give him the evidence for a lawsuit and a gag order. Just can his ass and enjoy knowing you can tell the truth to the next people he tries to work for.”
Cid snorted at her. “Good luck. My contract is ironclad. It will cost you a bundle to get rid of me without hard evidence, which you don’t have.”
Cid went skidding across the performers’ room floor, a hard hit on the jaw from Syon sending him reeling.
“Don’t ever insult my fiancée.”
“My friend,” Ramsey added as he popped his knuckles.
“Mine too,” Taz said.
“Definitely,” Drake chimed in.
“Let me remind you what else is in your contract.” Syon stood over Cid. “A no-tolerance clause for drugs, which includes any personal assistant you have. She”—he pointed at the girl—“is your personal assistant. She has dope in her possession. I’ve got plenty of witnesses, and if you’re smart, you’ll get out of here before I call up Deputy Jenson.”
Syon looked at the girl. “Will you testify against him?”
She’d stopped crying, realizing it was a lost cause. Syon’s question made her eyes brighten. “You bet your ass I will.”
“Still, her word against mine,” Cid insisted.
“No it isn’t,” the girl said. She grabbed her cell phone off the table where the contents of her purse were still lying. She held it out toward Ramsey. “There were text messages. He erased them, but you hack phones all the time. Can you get them back?”
The phone went crashing to the floor. Cid had moved up while everyone’s attention was on the girl. He went to smash the phone with his foot, but Yoon spun around and sent him into the wall with a back kick that landed in Cid’s midsection.
Ramsey scooped up the phone. “You bet I can retrieve them.”
Cid was struggling to his feet, clutching his midsection. “I’ll countersue for assault.”
“You just don’t know when to quit, do you, mate?” Drake was suddenly across the room, sending his fist into Cid’s jaw. The road manager went stumbling, Drake following him. “Sue me. I dare you. Your career will be finished.”
Ramsey pulled Drake back, scuffling with his bandmate as Cid leaned against the wall, blood seeping down his chin from a split lip.
“You can have your severance,” Syon said, “and you’ll sign a gag order, or I’ll call Deputy Jenson and let him know we’ve got new developments in the case.”
“Full severance,” Cid snapped, “and a gag order on your side too.”
“Full severance only. Take it or leave it,” Syon said.
“Better than you deserve,” Ramsey added.
“Let me take it out of his hide,” Drake insisted.
“Deal!” Cid said, sending a cutting look at the girl. Taz stepped between them, the nunchakus back in his hand.
“Just so you know,” Taz said as he swung the weapon, “if she ever calls me, with say, even a small concern that you’re making grief for her…or her family…or…her dentist”—the nunchakus made a wicked sound as he twirled them in the air—“there’s going to be trouble.”