I topped off our glasses and pulled my feet up under me. “So who’s the lucky buyer?”
/> “Some corporation,” she said around a mouthful of Thai food. “Becoming, LLC.”
I choked on my wine.
“You okay?” Michelle asked, slapping me on the back.
“Fine,” I rasped. “Totally fine. Did you say Becoming?”
“Yeah. It’s a holding company for who knows what. Not that it matters. It could be a serial killer consortium and I’d still happily collect my commission.”
My head was spinning.
I stood up and stumbled to the back door to stare across the pasture.
“I drove by on my way home from the grocery store, and there was a furniture truck out front,” Michelle called after me.
It had to be a coincidence. Right?
What were the odds that—
My inner pandemonium was cut off by the doorbell.
I spilled my wine in my mad dash to the front door.
“You expecting Publishers Clearing House or something?” Michelle wondered from the living room.
I yanked open the door, ready to throw myself into the arms of…a stranger with an official looking envelope.
“Can I help you?” I asked, trying to smother my disappointment.
“Ms. Aucker?”
My heart was thumping in my head, chest, and feet. “Yes.”
He held out the envelope. “For you.”
“Um, thanks?”
I closed the door and returned to the living room tearing open the envelope like a toddler on Christmas.
“What’s that?” Michelle asked, a spring roll clutched between her teeth like a cigar.
I frowned. “It looks like legal papers.”
She wiped her hands on her jeans. “Gimmie.”
I handed them over and fought the urge to run out the back door to check out my new neighbor.
“Definitely legal,” Michelle reported. “Looks like a contract. Huh. That’s weird.”
“What’s weird?”
“Are you a songwriter?”
“Uh, no,” I said with a nervous laugh.
“Well according to this, Becoming Records wants to pay you for a song you cowrote…with Vonn Barlowe and Tommy Kwik?” Her screech had Betty looking a little nervous.