Rio and Polly

Chapter 5: A Critical Mistake

Milliken had me out of jail in two hours. But the indignity of being taken to the police station sobered me up. Fast.

That and the knowledge that Polly had watched the police take me away.

Milliken didn't say a word until we got in the limo and I told the driver to take me to Polly's.

"Not a smart move, Rio. You don't talk to me for three fucking weeks, and when I finally hear from you, your ass is sitting in a jail cell, tanked on a drunk and disorderly charge, which -- you're welcome -- I was able to get dropped. You want to tell me what the fuck is going on?"

"I fired you," I told him, looking out the window, counting the minutes until I arrived at Polly's place, not wanting to explain anything to him.

"I get fired all the time by you singers until you need me back."

"I don't need you back."

"You needed me to get you out of jail. You want your career to tank? Because it will without me," he shot at me.

"Don't fucking care. All I want to focus on is getting Polly back. Nothing else matters."

"You have obligations," he dared to remind me.

"Fuck the obligations and fuck you, too, Milliken."

"You can't afford to break your contractual obligations."

At that, I did look at him, and I could tell he was startled by the look in my eyes. Maybe they reflected the anger and self-loathing I felt. 

"Let them come after me for all the money I have. I'll fucking hand it over. None of it matters if I don't have Polly."

"I get it," he said, holding his hands up as if to appease me. "You're ready to give it all up for love. Well, riddle me this: if you don't have the girl and you don't have your career, what do you have? I'll tell you. Nothing. I've seen it before -- young guy starts his career with a hundred pound weight around his neck, or in your girl's case maybe a buck fifty -- and things fall apart as your star rises --"

"Pull into a parking lot," I ordered the driver as I lowered the privacy screen.

The driver did, immediately. When he'd come to a stop, I looked at Milliken with all the hatred I felt. "Get out."

"Are you kidding? I just got you out of jail and this is how you repay me?"

"I'll send you a check. Now get out, or I'll get you out. Your choice, but you have two seconds to decide. After what you said about Polly and her weight around my neck, I'm hoping you decide you want an assist out of the car."

"Fuck you, Rio. You almost made it to the top with me."

"My talent got me to the top. You were along for the ride."

With a final sneer at me, he had one last parting shot. "Even if you get her back, she won't stay. These things never work out. That's why you always go with the money."

I said nothing, just wanting him out of the limo. When he saw I wasn't going to say anything else, he got out and slammed the door.

"Take off, Skip. Let's get to Polly's."

"Yes, sir," he said.

I was silent for the rest of the ride, wanting a drink for courage but knowing I needed to approach her, approach the most important conversation of our lives, sober. Ten minutes later, Skip had pulled up in front of Polly's apartment. 

I should have had the drink.

As I got out of the car, Skip said, "Good luck to you, sir."

"Thanks. I'm going to need it," I admitted. I didn't know this Polly I was about to face. This was a Polly who'd covered our tattoo without blinking, who'd stabbed at me with each IG post and pointed caption, who'd basically ghosted me for three weeks, not letting me explain and unmoved by my increasingly desperate texts -- until she blocked me -- and she'd ignored the voice mail and IG messages I'd left for her.