CeeCee is quiet for a moment in the face of my unexpected comment. I never talk about my mother. And now, in this one conversation, I’ve referred to her twice. Surely, CeeCee thinks the sky is falling.
“I really was moved by Georgina,” CeeCee says wistfully. “Even before I found out about how she helps her father. She was truly lovely, Reed. A diamond in the rough. Plus—and I probably shouldn’t admit this, but—the fact that she’s so gorgeous and sexy would make her hugely effective if I were to assign her to interview musicians for Rock ‘n’ Roll. I know it sounds sexist, and maybe a little underhanded of me, but the fact remains that interview subjects, especially male musicians, tend to open up like steamed clams with really stunning interviewers, as I’m sure you’ve noticed yourself over the years.”
I chuckle. “Why do you think I’ve always opened up the most with you?”
She snorts. “Always, such a charmer. Seriously, though, without even realizing what they’re doing, horny musicians always turn themselves inside out, trying to impress the really gorgeous ones, which never fails to translate into interview gold.”
I pause for a moment. Long enough to make it seem like I’m weighing what I’m about to say. “I tell you what, CeeCee. I’m going to give you a gift, because I love you and also want to help this girl. I’m going to make a six-figure donation to one of your favorite cancer charities—the one that supports family members of those affected by cancer. They can use part of my donation to set up a grant for this Georgina of yours—the equivalent of three months’ salary, plus whatever might be needed to pay for this expensive medicine her father needs. That way, you can officially hire Georgina for the usual unpaid internship, as far as your payroll department and other employees are concerned, but she’ll actually get paid on the sly. Boom. Georgina and her father win. You win. Rock ‘n’ Roll wins. Everybody wins.”
“Everybody wins but you. Why would you do this?”
“Because I’m a good guy. Because I love you. But, mostly, because you said she’d be particularly good at interviewing musicians and that gives me an excellent idea.”
“Ha! I knew there had to be a catch.”
“What would you say if, in exchange for my generous donation to one of your favorite charities, Rock ‘n’ Roll does a special ‘River Records issue,’ featuring nothing but my artists?”
“I’m so relieved to find out you have an ulterior motive for your generosity. For a second there, I felt extremely disoriented.”
“My motive isn’t ulterior. It’s parallel. Yes, I want to get something out of this, but I also want to do good. For you and this ‘diamond in the rough.’ Seriously, what’s the downside of my proposal? It’s a no-brainer.”
CeeCee is quiet. Thinking. Processing. Trying to figure out what she’s missing here. Why I’m bending over backwards.
“I’ll roll out the red carpet for this girl,” I say. “She’ll have full access to everyone on my roster, all at once. I’ve never done anything like this before, and I’d only ever do it for you.”
“It wouldn’t just be her,” CeeCee says, and, instantly, I know I’ve got her. “I’d have to assign several people to the issue. Plus, I’m sure I’d write a few pieces, too.”
I smile broadly. “Whatever you want, as long as the newbie works on nothing but the River Records issue during her summer internship.”
“Why?” CeeCee asks, her tone instantly suspicious.
“Because I’m paying her fucking salary, that’s why.”
“Oh.”
CeeCee is quiet for a long moment. And I don’t blame her. It’s highly unlike me to bend over backwards to help a stranger. But not outside the realm of possibility, I’d think, considering all the benefits that will flow to both CeeCee and me from this arrangement. Obviously, I’ve omitted to tell CeeCee the foremost benefit that will flow to me. My top reason for doing this. Namely, that this arrangement will undoubtedly lead to me fucking Georgina at some point during the summer—which, in this moment, is something I want for myself more than I want my next breath. Certainly, more than I want the two hundred grand I’m planning to donate to CeeCee’s cancer charity. But, so what if I haven’t told CeeCee that part? Omitting that one particular nugget of information doesn’t make what I have mentioned any less true.
“Okay,” CeeCee says. “I’ll agree to the special issue—”
“Wonderful.”
“On one condition.”
I hold my breath.
“It absolutely must include a full-length interview of you.”
I exhale with frustration. “CeeCee.”
“We can’t do a River Records issue without an interview of Reed Rivers. It can be a simple two-pager, if you like, but an interview of you is non-negotiable.”
Again, I look out the window of my limo, just in time to see the bushy trees of Central Park coming into view. “All right,” I concede. “I’ll sit down for a basic one-pager, including a five-by-seven photo of me to take up space.”