Getting Wet - It's Raining Men

She'd come in close to me, and I reached out and brushed a tendril of hair from her cheek.

"Are you talking about us? Or the music, Ally," I just about whispered.

We kissed there under the lanterns as the fish fried and the sun smoldered. I wrapped my arms around her and held her fast to me like I could never get enough of this feeling.

"Ally!" Wren said as she came running over barefoot. She hugged Allison when she stepped away from me in one of her super hippy, too-long too-close hugs. But Allison hugged her back unabashedly, and it warmed my heart.

"Who's opening tonight?" Ally said. She pointed at our deck, which we'd repurposed into our outdoor stage.

"I promised Captain Bob he could sing a sea shanty or two with his accordion. Kestrel takes the stage at eight sharp," Gloria said. She patted Hawk on the shoulder and made her way over to Bob.

"I hope you're not sick of listening yet. I changed the line up so you wouldn't have to sit through repeats," I told Allison. I looked past her to the edge of the lawn where a black sedan had pulled up. A woman in ripped jeans and a leather jacket got out of the car. She carried a Hermes bag, and everything about her looked expensive. Her bright eyes spotted us from across the grass, and she hastened to make her way toward us.

"Anybody know who that is?" I asked. Everyone turned to look at the older but impeccably put-together woman walking her across the lawn in Louboutin's.

"Kestrel, meet Diana Reymoldono, the president of Columbia Records," Allison said.

I stuck my hand out to her in awe. "Wow, for some reason, I thought you were in New York," I said.

"I was this morning," she said. "But then Ally played your demo, so I hopped on the company jet to catch your set tonight."

Chapter 8

Ally

The tacos were the best I ever had. The sunset was a breathtaking explosion of orange and purple, soft pink and baby blue. The man who sang standards for his dad and original love songs straight at me from the stage was a pleasure beyond all of my wildest fantasies. Kestrel had the it factor, and Diana recognized it too.

“I’m so glad you took that extra week, Ally. We couldn’t have secured this deal without you,” Diana told me.

I was just as excited as she was. Still, I hoped that my original indiscretions didn’t muddy up the waters too much for the signing to be successful. I was also terrified of the slight chance that Hawkley could think I slept with him on purpose to get him to sign. I didn’t have anywhere near the confidence to think I could secure a signing with any artist using my rusty seduction skills.

But when Hawkley finally walked off the stage to thunderous applause, twilight was starting, and this talented and loving man made his way straight into my arms. As soon as he wrapped his arms around me, my doubts vanished like fireflies turning off in the dark.

“Did you like the set?” he asked softly into my hair.

“The best,” I replied as he pulled back and kissed my nose.

Diana stood by with a warm smile on her face as she watched us, her arms crossed in front of her chest. She glanced at her watch.

“Kestrel, I’ve got a plane to catch, but welcome to the Columbia family. We’ll assign an assistant to you this coming week, but for now, I’ll just email the contracts directly to you.” She winked at Hawk and waved goodbye to the rest of us.

“What was that about?” I asked him as soon as she was out of earshot.

I’d told Diana during the set about the hook-up. She warned me it could get messy, that we should proceed with caution. Apparently, while I’d been eating tacos with Wren and Dave, Hawkley had pulled her aside and told her that he wouldn’t sign a deal without me. He made her fully aware of our relationship and told her he intended to keep seeing me.

“That was my main incentive for signing. I also didn’t want to be the reason you lost a job.”

“You’re pretty amazing. At this point, Diana is so excited about the deal that she’d probably give me a promotion before she’d sack me for sleeping with you.”

“If that’s how you get promotions, I’d like to see to it that you get more. Tons, in fact. I’d like to help you get a promotion tonight before you fly back to New York.”

“That sounds perfect to me,” I said into his neck. I’d laid my head there and was inhaling his fresh green scent.

“Greatest bassist of all time?” he asked me. “Don’t say, Pastorius.”

“I mean Pastorius, but if he’s off-limits, I’ll go with Mingus.”

“Mingus. Better Git It in Your Soul. Allison Carpenter, I do believe you are the one,” he told me.