His wild heartbeat told me he was lying, though. It just wasn’t until two days later that I found out what was really going on.
Later that morning, I left for the Valley to check on my apartment and look at a used Toyota at the small dealership down the street from my gym. Or former gym since I hadn’t been there in weeks.
A Navigator was parked in front of Frank’s house when I returned. And after I got inside, I heard Dante and Johnny’s voices battling for dominance in the office. The door was cracked and the unsettling words slipped out into the living room, ricocheting off the walls like invisible bullets.
The three of them weren’t quite arguing yet, but I felt the growing tension in Dante’s tone as he shot out a muffled string of sentences. The house was still, but the air was full of an electrical charge.
I set my bag on the couch and walked over to the office, stopping outside the door. Restless and full of worry, I couldn’t calm my racing heart as I peeked inside. Frank sat in a chair. Johnny was leaning against the desk, gaze on the floor, arms folded across his chest.
“Why can’t you be upfront with us for once, man?” Dante sounded distressed. He was pacing. I recognized the rapid thumping of his boots against the floor. His frame was out of my line of sight, but occasionally, I could see his hand as he rounded the room.
There was a pause and the distant hum of the ocean that seeped inside through the open terrace filled the void. Finally, Frank spoke, “The answer is no.”
I didn’t know what was going on, but my pulse raged in anticipation of the upcoming disaster. Then it happened. Dante threw out his ultimatum. It was like a trigger pull, deafening and attention-grabbing.
“It's not just you.” His voice shook. “It's the four of us. We all depend on this tour. Our careers, our livelihood. You’re so fucking selfish, you’re ready to drag us all down.”
“It’s the best option considering your condition,” Johnny chimed in. “Your royalties stay the same. Everything stays the same.”
“How is it the same when someone else is going to sing my fucking songs?” Frank half-screamed, and his desperation broke my heart. I felt a tightness in my chest, as if invisible hands were pressing against it.
“It’s that or you’re out!” Dante took over the conversation again. “You’re blind if you still don’t see that this is for your own damn good!”
I swallowed hard to dislodge the rock forming in my throat.
The footsteps moved in my direction. It happened so fast that I didn’t have enough time to react. The office door flung open and a cigarette pack flicked past my eyes as Dante marched out. I felt the accidental brush of his shoulder and the spike of temper consuming the oxygen around me. He clicked his lighter and whirled around. His dark gaze drilled right through me. “This is between me and your boy. Stop fucking eavesdropping, short stuff.”
Blood rushed to my face. “Fuck you, Dante.” My comeback was far from ladylike, but I was too wound up by what I’d just heard to stick to my manners.
He headed for the door to the terrace without a word, shoulders stiff, strides wide and obnoxiously loud. I stood in my spot, angry, left with the horrible aftertaste of loss in my mouth and staring at the empty space in front of me.
“Don’t take it personally, Cassy,” Johnny said from off to the side. “It’s been a stressful week.”
My head snapped up, and he was moving toward me, an apologetic smile touching his lips.
“Sure. Two against one. How fair.” I scoffed.
In my peripheral, I saw Frank rise from his chair inside the office.
“Whoever said the music business was fair has never written a single song.” Johnny shrugged and shoved both hands in the pockets of his jacket.
My blood ran hot, and my ears rang. I watched Johnny tread through the living room, waiting for Frank’s final word, but none followed. The silence was both awkward and cruel. My sixth sense told me not to act on my rage, so I stayed mute. Frank was slipping away. He moved over to the window and glared at the mountains with his back turned to us.
Johnny circled the room again and started making his way to the front door. “It’s nice to see you, Cassy.” He yanked his hand out of his pocket and waved at me. The gesture was less than enthusiastic.
Outside on the terrace, Dante was finishing up his cigarette. He stepped back into the house for a short second and said, “Tell Frankie-boy to think about my offer. He still gets to keep his share and write songs if we look for a different singer to take with us on the road. If his dumb ass wants to fight us on this, he’ll lose. This is me being fucking civil, being his friend for once and seeing this shit for what it is, a fucking train going off the rails next time he decides to take the stage. The best thing he can do right now for everyone, for his own health, his parents, and his fans, who pay for all his houses and cars, is to stop trying to do the impossible. Ask his fucking doctor if you don’t believe me. He needs another surgery.”
Dante’s speech was like a punch to my gut. Everyone seemed to know about it, and the fact that Frank hadn’t mentioned anything to me hurt. He had no idea that I’d overheard the doctor talking about it at the hospital.
“If you really care about him, you’ll see that I’m right.”
His words rattled inside my head long after the Navigator disappeared behind the gate. I walked across the living room to shut the front door Dante had left standing wide open, then returned to the office.
Frank still surveyed the mountain view outside the window, his
