Free The Rancher and the Rock Star by Lizbeth Selvig Page A

anywhere.”
    “So, what’s your story?” Gray asked. “You must have proof if you’re this adamant.”
    “Of course I don’t have proof.” Elliott spat the words. “Whoever’s doing this has covered his bases well.”
    Dawson grabbed the newspaper from him and stared at the picture of the girl with her head in his father’s lap. He began to giggle. “Wow, Dad, a public blow job. This almost makes you look cool.”
    The uncensored declaration brought shocked silence. Spark sputtered his disbelief first and whipped the paper away from Dawson. “You’re a sick kid.”
    “Aw, come on.” Dawson laughed. “It has to be a fake.”
    “Well, thanks for that, anyway.” Gray let out his breath. “The public won’t care, though. This could be a disaster.”
    “It’s already a disaster.” Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s all over the Internet.”
    “Man, what were you thinking?” Gray pleaded with Elliott.
    “Are you listening to me?” Elliott raised his voice for the first time. “I did not do this.”
    “Can’t you see Gray’s not buying your bull either?” Chris turned. “The worst of it is what happened this morning. Since the picture went viral, it cost Jillian Harper her job. She worked with Ron Revers, and you know we’ve been trying to get him to produce Gray’s next record for over a year now. This makes it look like there are very sleazy favors being given in exchange for special treatment. Truth makes no difference—a record label can’t afford misperceptions.”
    “Fired? Are you kidding me?” Gray forgot about his son, forgot about the show he had to do in less than two hours. He saw only the mercenary betrayal of a friend. Chris kept such a tight rein on this kind of thing, he’d know the truth. Elliott was the only one allowed into the Lunatics’ inner circle. They’d all seen this shot a month ago when it had been an accidental—and hilarious—joke. It wasn’t hilarious now. “You can’t do this to me, Elliott. There’s too much other crap going on in my life. None of us needs this.”
    “You don’t believe me.” Elliott’s eyes filled with shock. “After all we’ve been through, you just . . . automatically side against me? Chris has no proof I sent the damn picture.”
    “Oh, my friend, it happens I do.” Triumph shone in Chris’s eyes. “I checked with the paper. They told me the file came from one Elliott St. Vincent. They have the e-mail. They have the date stamp on it. You might as well quit lying. Your ass is toast.”
    “You are so far off the mark.” Elliott stood his ground. “If I even wanted to do this, tell me why I’d be stupid enough to use a picture you all knew I’d taken and then send it from somewhere that could be traced to me?”
    “Because it would look like a perfect cover—just like what you’re asking us to believe right now,” Spark replied.
    For only a moment Gray waffled, his natural sympathy kicking in. But his resolve hardened. It hurt, but in his world this wouldn’t be the first time he’d been sold out by a friend.
    “I think you should leave,” he said quietly. “This is already screwing with the vibes before the show. We’ll finalize things later, but I have to tell you, ruining someone’s career in the name of money is not all right.”
    “You’re joking, right?” Elliott seemed frozen in disbelief.
    “Dad?!” Dawson tugged hard on Gray’s sleeve.
    “This is none of your business, Son.”
    “What are you doing? Elliott’s one of the good guys.”
    “We’ll talk about it later.”
    Dawson glared, but what else was new? Elliott gathered his camera bag and vest from where they’d been heaped on the floor. Flinging the bag strap over one shoulder, he stopped inches from Gray. Fury crackled between them.
    “Your sixteen-year-old son has more sense than you do.” Elliott’s words were pinched. “I figured friendship meant something to you, Gray.” He took one angry step then looked