“I’m not ready to talk to Mom.”

“It’s not her anyway. I told her I’d call when you were ready. I made her promise to give me the time I needed to talk to you. But, Xander, she’s a wreck. Don’t make her wait too much longer.”

I stand up and stare at him. “When did you become so mature?”

He shakes his head at me.

Walking over to the door, I look through the peephole to see who it is. It’s Aerie.

As soon as I open the door she rushes in. She’s dressed more casually than I’ve seen her before. She’s wearing some kind of track suit. Her blond hair is pulled back and the sneakers on her feet make her seem really short. She’s almost a whole head shorter than me.

“Xander,” she greets me in total business mode.

“Aerie, what are you doing here?” Then I remember she asked for an interview. “Now is not the best time for that interview.”

“That’s not why I’m here.”

“What’s going on?” I ask her as I close the door.

“Can we sit down and talk?”

“Sure. Come in.” I move past her, escorting her toward the living room.

River’s still sitting on the couch and stands up the minute he sees her.

“River,” she says softly and crosses the room to hug him. She holds on to him tightly. “I’m so sorry I had to run out on Dahlia. As soon as I explain everything to the both of you I’m heading back over to see her. Jagger’s meeting me there with lunch from her favorite place.”

“She understands. I’m sure she’d love to see you,” River responds.

She pulls away. “Mind?” she asks, looking at me and pointing to the large graphite-colored chair that used to be my grandfather’s favorite.

“No. Have a seat.” I wonder what could be so urgent that she would come over here to talk when I know she’s obviously seen the headlines. “You want a cup of coffee?”

“No, thank you, I don’t drink coffee. I’m fine really.”

Aerie takes a deep breath, pulls some papers out of her bag, and sets them on the large glass coffee table. “Well,” she says, “I have something I want to show you.”

“Okay. Shoot.” I’m a little agitated that she’s not just getting to the point, but I think I get it. “Fuck, did Damon send you over? What does he want now? For me to sign some kind of huge-ass contract?” I say, pointing to the stack of papers on the table.

“Xander, relax, man. Let her finish.”

“Didn’t you hear?” she asks.

I shake my head. “Hear what?”

“Damon no longer owns Sound Music Magazine. If it hasn’t been announced yet, it will be later today.”

River raises an eyebrow. “Really? Why’d he sell it?”

Aerie snickers. “Well, he didn’t really have much of a choice. We were in poor financial condition. I actually think it was a takeover. I’m not sure about the details, but I’ve been reassured that the company that bought it intends to keep the magazine intact. I’ve never been more thankful in my life on both counts.”

“Who bought it?” I ask her.

Aerie shrugs her shoulders. “A company by the name of Plan B. It’s a small private company. Sound Music is its first acquisition, but I know another magazine is being shopped.”

“Interesting,” River responds.

“Are you concerned?” I ask him.

“No, just curious.”

“Sounds like perfect timing if you ask me,” I interject.

“It is,” she says, looking a little nervous. Then, “I can’t divulge the details just yet. I’m sorry.”

I shrug. It’s no skin off my back.

She fumbles through the papers on the table and my agitation level only grows.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you. I just wanted you to have these,” she says after she’s located what she’s looking for. She rises and walks over to where I’m still standing at the bottom of the steps in the living room.

“What are they?” I have to ask because I have no fucking clue why she’s handing me a stack of papers with numbers all over them.

“Sales reports and various supporting documents from when your father was signed under Sheep Industries’ Little Red label.”

I hand the papers back to her. “What do you want me to do with these?”

She pushes them toward me. “Look at them.”

“Aerie, I have a lot going on right now. Can this wait?”

“Xander, I wouldn’t be here if it could wait. I talked to Ivy yesterday and she told me everything. I know your mind is probably in a million places, but these reports are what she needs to get out from Damon’s hold.”

“Damon’s hold?” I question.

“Yes. Damon is blackmailing her—or he was. I wanted her to have the information either way.”

“Fuck, I knew he was up to something. I just wasn’t sure what. Do you know what he’s holding over her?”

“All she told me was that he’d said he ruined Nick and he would do the same to you. But I overheard him on the phone with his attorney just before the takeover became official, and he said at least the marriage clause was executed before his old man passed. I know it has something to do with the will, but that was all I heard.”

“Josh Wolf’s will going public has to be news to everyone. I can only guess the bastard wanted to be the first to report it. Put his own spin on it,” River muses.

Aerie flips through the stack and hands me two sheets of paper. “Well, here is what I found. This report is from Little Red’s records,” she says, pointing to the column on the right. “And this one I just got,” she says, pointing to the one on the left, like I have any idea what that means.

I look at both pieces of paper. My eyes scour the numbers. They’re different. I read the handwriting on the bottom and have no problem deciphering what this means now. “Where did you get these?”

“What are they?” River asks, standing and crossing his arms over his chest.

Aerie explains. “One set was in the basement of Sheep Industries, the other is from a box of old papers that I found in my uncle’s things when Jagger and I were going through everything a couple of months ago.”

I want to question her further, about how she got documents from the basement of Sheep Industries and why would sales reports of a record label be among her uncle’s things, but right now I don’t give a shit where the information came from. I stand there dumbfounded as River comes over to us and looks over my shoulder. “They’re for the same period of time, but there’s a huge discrepancy in reported earnings,” he manages to say, shock evident in his voice.

“Exactly!” Aerie says.

What kind of person does that to someone? I have to sit down, and once I do, I read the handwritten note again, but it begins to blur. River sits next to me, both of us staring at the series of numbers in front of us. Spots cloud my vision and my heart pounds for the man I always knew as my father—the one who wanted his whole life to be successful and thought he’d failed . . . when in actuality he was a superstar in his own right.

Utter silence falls in the room. River and I both sit there in shock, absorbing the information that might have changed both our lives . . . Maybe we both take the quiet to fast-forward that life in our minds, or maybe we’re barricading ourselves from the truth, maybe we’re just trying to stop the black fury that comes with the truth—or maybe those are just my feelings. I push aside the papers in my hands and lean over the others on the table, noticing that my hands are trembling. I look to my brother—his face is white, his expression blank.

I take a deep breath, adjust my focus, and pull myself together. I drop my hands to my sides and flex my fingers. When Aerie’s wide eyes meet mine I can finally say, “Thanks so much for this. I have to run, but call me for anything.”

River nods, still seemingly in a trance. Then he stands as well. “I’ll walk you out.”

She gives me a sad smile. “Call me for anything, Xander. I’ll leave you all this,” she says, pointing to the stack of papers. “It’s mostly collaborating documentation in case you file a complaint with the FCC.”

For a moment I stare at her. “I think I’ll handle this in my own way,” I tell her with no edge to my voice at all. Do I want to turn him in or do I want to use this to get him to leave Ivy alone? That’s a question I don’t even have to ask myself.

River leads Aerie to the door. I hear them whispering in the foyer. I cradle my head in my hands and know I have to see my mother before I do anything else. The biggest question being . . . selflessness or selfishness? The two conflicting feelings struggle within me and I’m not sure which will win out.

* * *

Thirty minutes later I’ve sent my brother packing and I’m climbing into my sister’s car, which is still parked in my driveway. She never came to pick it up. She must be driving my mother’s car. Fuck, I never called Ena and told her to get mine, but right now I don’t give a shit about my car. There’s no sign of the press and I’m fucking thankful. At first I lurch full speed down the road in my sister’s Cabriolet, but with no pickup in her chick car I change my mind and lay off the gas. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, I quickly decide to turn around, trading Sunset Boulevard for the scenic route, the longer way. While I drive, I think about everything that has happened over the past days. I think about my life. I’m a guy who likes control. I follow a plan. I have a schedule. I’m all about structure—not chaos. And lately my life has been full of instability.

As I drive through the wooded streets, I stare at the beautiful manicured lawns and large homes that belong to families who I bet know who they are. I think about Nick—did he know any of this? If he knew the truth, why did he never treat me any different from River and Bell?