Live Wire Read Online Free PDF Page A

after a tragic scandal more than fifteen years ago. With the exception of a few paparazzi shots and a lot of rumors, there had been pretty much no sign of Gabriel Wire in all that time—no touring, no interviews, no press, no public appearances. All that secrecy just made the public hunger for Wire all the more.
    “I think it’s time to go home, Lex.”
    “Nah, Myron,” he said, voice thick with what Myron hoped was just drink. “Come on now. We’re having fun. Aren’t we having fun, gang?”
    Various vocalizations of agreement. Myron looked around. He may have met one or two of the guys before, but the only one he knew for certain was Buzz, Lex’s longtime bodyguard/personal assistant. Buzz met Myron’s eye and shrugged as if to say, what can you do?
    Lex threw his arm around Myron, draping it over his neck like a camera strap. “Sit, old friend. Let’s have a drink, relax, unwind.”
    “Suzze is worried about you.”
    “Is she now?” Lex arched an eyebrow. “And so she sent her old errand boy to come fetch me?”
    “Technically speaking, I’m your errand boy too, Lex.”
    “Ah, agents. That most mercenary of occupations.”
    Lex wore black pants and a black leather vest, and it looked like he’d just gone clothes shopping at Rockers R Us. His hair was gray now, cut very short. Collapsing back on the couch, he said, “Sit, Myron.”
    “Why don’t we take a walk, Lex?”
    “You’re my errand boy too, right? I said, sit.”
    He had a point. Myron found a spot and sank deep and slow into the cushions. Lex turned a knob to his right and the music lowered. Someone handed Myron a glass of champagne, spilling a bit as they did. Most of the tight-corset ladies—and let’s face it, in any era, that’s a look that works—were gone now, without much notice, as though they’d faded into the walls. Esperanza was chatting up the one she’d been checking out when they entered the room. The other men in the room watched the two women flirt with the fascination of cavemen first seeing fire.
    Buzz was smoking a cigarette that smelled, uh, funny. He looked to pass it off to Myron. Myron shook his head and turned toward Lex. Lex lounged back as though someone had given him a muscle relaxant.
    “Suzze showed you the post?” Lex asked.
    “Yes.”
    “So what’s your take, Myron?”
    “A random lunatic playing head games.”
    Lex took a deep sip of champagne. “You really think so?”
    “I do,” Myron said, “but either way it’s the twenty-first century.”
    “Meaning?”
    “Meaning it’s not that big a deal. You can get a DNA test, if you’re so concerned about it—establish paternity for certain.”
    Lex nodded slowly, took another deep sip. Myron tried to stay out of agent mode, but the bottle held 750 ml, which is approximately 25 ounces, divided by $8,000 dollars, equaled $320 per ounce.
    “I hear you’re engaged,” Lex said.
    “Yup.”
    “Let’s drink to that.”
    “Or sip. Sipping is cheaper.”
    “Relax, Myron. I’m filthy rich.”
    True enough. They drank.
    “So what’s bothering you, Lex?”
    Lex ignored the question. “So how come I haven’t met your new bride-to-be?”
    “It’s a long story.”
    “Where is she now?”
    Myron kept it vague. “Overseas.”
    “May I give you some advice on marriage?”
    “How about, ‘Don’t believe stupid Internet rumors about paternity’?”
    Lex grinned. “Good one.”
    Myron said, “Meh.”
    “But here’s the advice: Be open with each other. Totally open.”
    Myron waited. When Lex didn’t follow up, Myron said, “That’s it?”
    “You expected something deeper?”
    Myron shrugged. “Kinda.”
    “There’s this song I love,” Lex said. “The lyric says, ‘Your heart is like a parachute.’ Do you know why?”
    “I think the line is about a mind being like a parachute—it only functions when it’s open.”
    “No, I know that line. This one is a better, ‘Your heart is like a parachute—it only opens when you fall.’