“These people are going to be interviewing you in a few days, Bee. I don’t want them twisting what you say for their own stupid reasons.”
“They won’t.”
“They will try.”
Baylor’s eyes go soft, and he cups my face carefully.“Trust me, Cas. I can handle whatever the interviewer wants to throw at me.”
Chapter 24 – Baylor
Stan – Eminem
“Thankyoufortakingthe interview,” the reporter fromVIPsays, as I gesture for him to take a seat in one of the chairs in my office. Bear Valley is already dark, making the hour seem later than it actually is. He introduced himself as Kit, and I try to remember to use that name and make him a person, not the nameless void of rumors and stories.
It helps that he seems familiar. Or itshouldhelp? But I’m unsettled. His blue and brown ski parka must be popular this season because I know I have seen it around.
I had wanted an afterhours meeting, so my office is no longer buzzing with activity that would interrupt us. So, I settle in for no interruptions to get this done.
“Of course,VIPhas always been gracious to my family,” I offer, which is true. Our coverage is generally positive. Cas had been hesitant about this interview, but I need to show Vernon and the people important to Cas that he can have us and his career. Playing nice with his agent’s request to do this interview for the album seemed like an easy thing to say yes to.
We shoot the breeze a bit, I offer him something to drink, apologizing for it just being us.
“I was hoping Caswell would be here, of course,” he says, teeth sharp when he smiles. Something stirs in my gut, and I try not to squirm.
I feel my eyebrows rise. “I thought this was about the songs. My agent should have made clear we aren’t talking publicly about our relationship.”
“So, there is a relationship?” he prods. “That wasn’t a publicity stunt on the red carpet? What about Red Rocks?”
“I am not giving any statement about either of those things. Do you want to move on to the music in the film?”
He smiles a bit. “Sure. We can do that. I listened to the three major songs in the movie, they all have you and Cas as co-writers. Do you believe that to be accurate? How much did Caswell Vaughn truly add to these lyrics?”
I blink at the question and its tone. “It was a true collaborative experience. There is no doubt we both earned the right to have our name on those songs.”
“So, those who would argue that the songwriting credit, and the suggestion of a relationship is all just the usual theatre leading up to a movie release? You wouldn’t want to give any reaction to that?”
I sit up, leaning forward on my desk. “I would, but I won’t. This interview was specifically given parameters. Those—”
The man laughs. “Come on, Baylor. It’s me. You know I am a fan. Surely those parameters don’t count here.”
“I’m afraid they do.” I make to stand, as if I am going to end this right here and now. I don’t like how Kit is poking like he only wants some story about Cas and me.
His face turns nasty for just a minute, but I still see it. “You know, all those years, all those letters I wrote you. And I was content to never see my name given credit for your word s. I just thought you wouldn’t dare let someoneelsetake credit for them. It’s kind of a slap in the face.”
“What are you talking about?”
His eyes land on mine, a wild sort of look in the back of them. “Baylor Mann, you wrote my life. You know that. I have sent you letters for years documenting how our lives are the same — don’t say you haven’t gotten them. I know you have. I hear it in every song you write.”
The guy is a fanatic. I’ve seen the look before, but never directed at me.
“Kit,” I say calmly, “I don’t get fan mail. I’m just the songwriter, not the big name. Anything you sent me probably went to the label. Cas wouldn’t even see it.”
“Cassssss,” he says, the name coming out like a hiss. “Maybe you should call and check up on him, hmm?” He smiles meanly, tapping his lip. “I hear they are shooting late tonight. Who knows what can happen on a movie set?”
My blood runs cold. Casisfilming late tonight. And someone did already have access to hurt him on set.
“What are you talking about?” I demand to know, reaching for my phone, at the same time I take to my feet.
“Sit down,” he says, not bothering to move. He takes a silver box out of his pocket. “Signal jammer. You won’t be calling anyone.”
