Page 90 of Leading the Blind
“Not now. News is already out. He’ll need to spin. Dillon is already out with Coke. So you need to talk to someone about getting a PR guy. Stat. Maybe talk to Steele.”
“Okay…” He couldn’t do this.
“I will do it. I will call Steele and Daniel, my publicist now.” Balta sounded calm as a still pond. “Sam brings Jason. We will talk to the press tonight. Seven o’clock. Then the rest is by phone. Daniel will help. Beau and Sam will help.”
“I’ll go get my truck,” Hank said. “None of these folks care about me. Y’all can sneak off in it, and I’ll drive yours back to the hotel.”
Jason walked in with Nattie, Sam and Ace, his lips tight and eyes hidden behind the dark glasses.
“We need to talk, Jason,” Ace started in.
“We will. I need a shower. We’ll meet at—what, Bax? Five-thirty?”
“Yeah. Balta is arranging the press conference at seven, probably at the hotel, if they got a room. That gives us time.” See him just brazen it out.
“I want to be in on that.”
Jason stood there, his hand on Bax’s arm. “We’ll talk at five-thirty. I’m leaving now. I need a shower. I need to find out about Gramps.”
“Hank is getting his truck for us.” Bax turned his back on Ace, because he couldn’t cope with that expression. He could hear Balta talking hard. Beau was babbling at Ace and they just slipped away.
Bax put on the shirt he’d been handed before they got to the outside door, and they slipped out into the crowd of people at the back. The reporters weren’t there yet.
Jason didn’t say a word. He just walked one foot in front of the other, jaw set.
Hank pulled up seconds later. “Gimme your keys. AJ and I will get your gear.” He handed over the truck, trusting them.
It didn’t take seconds before they were loaded up and moving, and they were on the road before Jason asked, “Gramps?”
“He’s at the hospital. That’s all they had so far. Scans and X-rays. Can you voice text Dill and see if it’s okay to call?”
“Yes.” Jason barked orders at his phone, and Dillon immediately called.
“He’s awake. It’s his fucking back. Cracked two vertebrae, right between his shoulder blades. He’s got sensation, movement. They’re taking him into surgery in a few. But he’s awake. He’s pissed, but he’s awake.”
“Thank God,” Bax said. “We got a meeting with Ace and a press conference. What do you need after that? We can bring shit to the hospital.”
“I already called the hotel and added some days for me. If I need you, I’ll holler, but you two need to deal with the fallout. Call Emmy.”
“Balta’s calling his publicist.”
“Perfect. Call Emmy. You want her there.”
“I’ll call her now.” Jason swallowed hard enough that Bax heard it. “Dillon, I’m sorry. I swear to God, I didn’t mean to?—”
“No.” Dillon’s voice was firm. “He did his job. You did yours, Jason. You won. We’ll come to the beach and you can make it up to us by feeding us our weight in shrimp and brisket. Got it?”
“Y-yeah. You know it. I’ll feed you both. I swear to God.” Jase was fixin’ to lose it.
“Okay. Coke and I love you guys.” Dillon’s voice finally broke. “I have to call Nattie. Call Emmy. I’ll see you soon.”
“Yeah. After the press.” Jason hung up the phone, then sat back. “I don’t know what to do, Andy.”
“I know. Jesus, Mini. Jesus.” He was blown, his hands shaking on the wheel. “We gotta do what’s next.”
“Right. It was supposed to be amazing. A celebration.”
He pressed a hand to Jason’s leg, inching through the traffic. “It will be. We just lost a little control of how things happened.”
