“You got it?” he says without hello.
“Got what?” I smirk.
He smiles like a teenager. “The money. You want the tape. You pay. I give. I delete.”
“How much?” He names a number that he thinks is big. I don’t blink. “You’ll give me the video. And destroy your copy.”
He leans back and shrugs. “That’s the deal. That’s what Quincy wants, so that’s what I’ll do. Isn’t that what we always do?”
I keep my face still somehow. “Quincy wants what?”
He grins, pleased with his own cleverness. “The sex tape,” he says. “The threat was Quincy’s idea. He figured it’d break you up, since she’s a slut who let herself get taped.”
I just witnessed a miracle and whatever is the opposite of a miracle. I don’t punch his face in for calling her a slut. And I don’t throw him onto the floor to demand what the fuck he means by Quincy’s idea.
“Quincy told you to break us up?”
“He thinks Lou’s a distraction. She’ll ruin the launch. He’s right about that—she’s the reason I couldn’t write. I’ve been on fire since she’s been gone.”
“That explains the purple smudges under your eyes.”
He ignores that. “Quincy’s been working with me to get this sorted for you, but I wanted to make some money first. So, I figured the sex tape would be two birds with one stone. A guy’s gotta eat.”
It clicks and burns. I keep my hands flat. “Quincy told you to threaten a tape.”
“He told me to fix it. I picked the tool.”
“And you have it with you.”
“I do. Thumb drive. I hand it to you. You hand me the envelope. You go your way. I go mine. You get to see the filthy shit she let me do to her instead of the whole world seeing it, and I get the hell out of Dodge to finish my album.”
I pull the envelope from my pocket and set it on the table. It’s paper rolled over paper. I tap the flap once. Troy watches like a dog.
“You’re sure it’s her?” I say.
He rolls his eyes. “She was my girlfriend first, Salem. I know what she looks like naked.”
I don’t flinch. “You’re sure she knew you were filming.”
He smirks harder. “Don’t be dumb.”
Heat comes up my spine. I put a lid on it. “Did Quincy have anything to do with the break-in at the studio, or was that all you?”
Troy laughs. “Now you’re getting it.”
I rake my nails over my stubble, needing to cause pain somewhere. “Why?”
“He needed those masters. Something to do with the label. I dunno. He knew that if you thought it was just me, you wouldn’t come digging into him. So, I made it look like it was personal.” He shrugs and laughs again. “It was easy. You guys always think everything is personal. All I had to do was give you a reason to think I cared enough to hurt you.”
Fuck me, he’s gone. “So, where’s the tape?”
He stands. “Follow me.”
Outside, the night smells like hot oil. The sedan doesn’t move. The detectives at the counter keep eating. We walk to his car. He pops the trunk, makes a little show of riffling a bag, then pulls out a thumb drive in a clear case. As if he couldn’t have just brought it inside with him. He licks his lips like a cartoon villain and holds it out.
I take the case and set it on the hood of my car. I set the envelope next to it. We both look at both. “Say it.”
“I give you the video and take the money. I destroy mine. Everyone’s happy. Fucking hell, Salem, do I have to explain blackmail to you?”
