The wheels in my head start turning, as this might be the perfect opportunity to introduce Willow to Brodie. I write down a reminder to ask Shane if I can bring a plus-one, knowing full well he will say yes. I smile to myself, ready to take on the matchmaker roll for my best friend, who won’t even see it coming.
Chapter Three
GAVIN
I DRUM MY fingers against the car door panel, impatient energy coursing through my veins while watching the outside scenery pass by. Sosie is driving us to my show tonight, and for some reason, I feel nervous. My pre-show jitters are usually due to the anticipation of the high I get while performing, so this nervousness is a foreign feeling. Maybe it’s because I’m tired. Yesterday was a long day with continued interviews and time spent in the studio working on a song for another artist. I didn’t get home until close to midnight and crashed as soon as I turned the lights off.
“What’s up with you?” Sosie asks, giving me a strange look out of the corner of her eye. She notices everything, so I know I won’t be able to weasel my way out of this unwanted conversation.
“Nothing. What’s up with you and those bags under your eyes?” I question with concern as I study her more closely. She has her hair up in a messy bun and her thick red glasses on, but those glasses only accentuate the deep purple bags underneath her blue eyes. Something is going on with her that she’s not sharing. When I’m in the studio working for other artists, Sosie isn’t on the clock, meaning she was done working for me yesterday after lunch. What she does with her free time is her business, but when I see her not looking well, I make it a point to make her personal time my business.
“Always deflecting, but it won’t work this time, Gav. I’m not answering your question until you answer mine.” She gives me a sweet, fake smile before turning her attention back to the road.
“Fine,” I mumble, caring more about hearing what’s going on with her than my own nervousness. “Honestly, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. For some reason, I’m nervous.”
“Yeah, I can tell. You’re like the Tasmanian Devil over there.” I follow her eyes to my left leg bouncing rapidly up and down. I place my hand on my thigh, mentally forcing it to stop. “But you’ve performed numerous times at the Bluebird. Why would this time be any different?”
“Possibly because this is a private event being held by another record label.” Their people will be watching me… judging me, I think but don’t say out loud. I shouldn’t be nervous. I practically lived at the Bluebird Cafe when I first landed in Nashville. It’s the place to play when you’re a songwriter wanting to get noticed. It’s an extremely small venue, capacity of only 90 people, making the audience seem like they’re right on top of you. Food and beverages are served while the crowd listens to singers belt out their songs. The Bluebird has launched the careers of some of today’s most famous singers like Taylor Swift and Garth Brooks. You can feel how special the place is the moment you walk through the doors.
“People are watching and judging you every time you walk on stage though,” she reminds me.
“True.” I sigh, not really wanting to psychoanalyze my mood right now.
“Maybe subconsciously, you’re anxious because you know when your contract is up with the devil, you need to change record labels, and Big Little Music could potentially be your future home.” I chuckle at her calling Atticus Langston the devil. From day one, Sosie saw right through his weaselly charm and loves telling me, in her heavily laced sarcastic voice that she prays for my soul every day.
“I don’t think so. For one thing, I like being with a big label, because they have more dollars for marketing and advertising.”
“That actually isn’t true anymore,” she informs me quietly. “I know you’ve heard how Big Little Music’s artists love being with them. Plus, they’ve landed some pretty big names for not being a more well-known label.” She starts rattling off the names of their well-known singers, surprising me with not only their lineup of talent, but her knowledge of who they have signed. When Sosie first started working for me, she didn’t know shit about this industry. Not that it mattered to me—I was just trying to get her the fuck out of California and away from my toxic aunt and uncle. Since working for me, she has taken her job as my assistant very seriously, immersing herself in the industry, studying the ins and outs of it and who the big players are.