I come to a stop near a bench, my interest piqued. “Keep talking.”
“A scout from my company saw you perform this summer in Seattle. She said you were amazing,” he says, his voice overly enthusiastic.
They always talk this way, trying to ramp up my excitement. I get why. They want to entice me, but I always play it cool. You give yourself away and suddenly, it’s on their terms.
I want to always keep it on my terms.
“I had a good summer,” I agree.
“I’m sure you did. I was hoping we could set up a meeting,” he says. “And if I have to, I’ll come to you.”
Interesting. Usually it’s a phone call meeting first. Zoom next. By then, they’re mentioning terms and sending over contracts, which are never in my favor. That’s when I bail.
No one’s come to meet me in person, face-to-face before.
“I know you perform locally a lot,” Rick says. “Have any shows coming up that I can attend?”
“No. Football season is keeping me busy,” I answer.
“That’s right. You’re a rock god and a jock.” Rick chuckles. “What a combination.”
“It’s not that big of a deal,” I tell him. “I’m just keeping my options open.”
“Yes, versatile. I fucking love it,” he gushes. “I’m thinking I can be up there in about two weeks. How’s your schedule for the beginning of October?”
“My bye week is the first weekend in October, so your timing is perfect,” I tell him.
“Fantastic. Maybe you can book a last-minute gig too. I’d love to see you perform. I’ll be bringing a few of my executives with me. We’d all love to meet with you,” he says, just before he rattles off my email address. Would love to know how he got that. “Can I send some information over? And as we get closer, I can also send you an itinerary.”
“Sounds great,” I tell him, because why not? I like to entertain these offers, even though I never accept them.
“Looking forward to meeting with you. Can’t wait to see you perform, too. I have a feeling we’d be great partners for each other,” Rick says, just before we end the call.
This feels almost serendipitous. Too easy, even. And while I’m all for easy, my guard will still be up. I’ll have to drag my father into this too. He’s a shark, and he doesn’t fall for a bunch of pretty lies and empty promises. Plus, he has one of the best lawyers in the area. She’s the one who looked over my previous contracts, finding fault in every single one of them. Record companies aren’t in the business to make a musician rich, is what my dad’s attorney told me, and she’s right.
They’re in the business to make money for themselves. Period.
I’ll talk it over with Ellie too. I always like to get her opinion. I value it. When she speaks, I listen. When she does anything lately, I’m right there, watching. Waiting. Hanging on every word.
Clearly, I’m a mess when it comes to her. I need to figure my shit out.
Soon.
Twenty-Two
Ellie
I lucked out when I texted Hayden and Gracie, asking if they’d be on campus around lunch time today. They both were, and so we agreed to meet up.
I couldn’t keep what happened with Jackson to myself. I had to fill Hayden in on everything—I stunned her silent, which I don’t think happens very often—and then I let them know what went down when Jackson showed up with his friends. And later, when he magically appeared to pick me up. How I rode home with Carson instead.
How growly and sexy Jackson was after he followed me home. His voice rich with promise, the words he said to me. When he kissed me—a minor kiss in the scheme of kisses, but the words he said and the way he acted touched me deep.
I’m still not over it.
When I finally finish my story, my friends are watching me with surprise etched on their faces, their eyes wide. They don’t say a word.
“Well?” I urge, desperate for their opinions. “What does that all mean?”