Four
Manager prospectnumber one wasn’t winning any points. “First, we’ll tell your fans the stress got to you and you snapped. Not only will you be admitting your failures, you’ll win sympathy points.”
“I was drugged.” Henri tore his gaze away from the window and the fat robin sitting on a branch outside. He’d been in rehab long enough. Soon it would be time to join the bird out in the world again. Did he have to?
“Do you really want your fans to know the truth? I mean, they haven’t found the culprit yet. Now, I can set up negotiations to get you back into Hookers and Cocaine, with me as your manager, of course.”
Margo wouldn’t go for such an arrangement, and neither would Henri. “I don’t want to go back. I want to move on.” He wasn’t sure of much these days, but making all the same mistakes over again wasn’t an option.
“You’d give up your place as front man for a successful group to go solo?” The dollar signs flashing in the man’s eyes were getting pretty annoying.
“They’re called Hookers and Cocaine. How much worse can it get?”
The man cocked a brow, adding a smug little smile. “A lot worse. Trust me.”
Trusting the bastard would never happen. “Fuck you and get out.”
* * *
“Deny everything.”Manager prospect number two looked the part of a smarmy spin doctor—down to his shark smile and snake oil salesman vibe.
“People will think I’m guilty. Can’t I hold a press conference and tell my side of the story?” God, what Henri wouldn’t give for a joint or a drink. Perhaps both.
“I can assure you that honesty isn’t in your best interest here. I also suggest you patch things up with your band and move on.”
“Why is everyone hung up on me getting back with a bunch of two-faced losers? Fuck you and fuck them. Without me they’d be nothing, and not a one of them has so much as called me. No, they couldn’t wait to spill their damned guts to the press. I’m done with them.” Assholes. They’d said everything in the gossip rags from “We always knew it was only a matter of time ’til he OD’d” to “I tried to get him to stop. He wouldn’t listen.” Bastard! Giles had no room to talk about drug use.
At least no one had outed Henri—yet. But then again, Margo would have their balls if they did. He might not be her client anymore, but she wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt royalties. As a manager, she had her uses, however misguided.
“Henri, I don’t believe you fully realize what’s at stake.”
“My band, my livelihood, my family, my fans, and my pride?”
“Well, I think—”
“I think you need to go back to my mother and say, ‘No deal.’”
* * *
Dr. Worthingtonsat next to Henri, legs crossed and arms hanging loosely over the sides of her chair. A restful pose. She always appeared unrushed, and never once consulted her watch during their visits. “Have you considered what you’d like to do next, when you leave here?”
Henri sprawled on the floor on his back, hands tucked behind his head. Hey, he got three square meals a day, nobody bothered him, and his room beat most hotels he’d stayed in. Why leave rehab? “I haven’t figured that out yet. I’m having a hard time finding a manager who’ll let me do anything but perpetuate the insanity of doing the same old thing. I want to make a clean break. There’s no one in my band I called friend or remotely trusted.”
The doctor nodded. “Whatever happened the night of your concert was only the final straw. From what you’ve told me, the pressure had been building for some time. Sooner or later, you were headed for a breakdown. And you should have disclosed your suicidal ideation to your past doctor.”
“But I didn’t try to kill myself.”
Henri’s shout didn’t penetrate Dr. Worthington’s unnerving calm—something Henri both loved and hated about the woman. Sometimes a guy needed a good fight, and the doctor wasn’t inclined to deliver. “I know that, you know that, but you did entertain suicidal thoughts, a possible side effect of your medication. I’ve changed your prescription, but at the first sign of trouble, I want to know. And you have to take your medicines as prescribed. I can’t help you if you won’t let me. Under no circumstances are you to use recreational drugs or alcohol. If you run into problems, I’ve prescribed a limited number of lorazepam, to be used only in emergencies.”
Henri forced a smile. “Gee, take the fun out of my life why don’t you? I’m still allowed hookers, right?”
Without so much as a flinch, she replied, “Only if you practice safe sex.”
“Jeez, lady! I’m kidding! I’m part of Hookers and Cocaine. Or was. I have a reputation to uphold.”
“Henri, no one’s trying to control you or keep you from having fun. We’re trying to show you how to enjoy life in a non-self-destructive way. You’ve got a lot on you at the moment. You don’t need added burdens.”
Damn. Why’d she have to talk sense? It was much easier to ignore the shrinks who quoted text-book psychobabble. “What should I do?”
