“I’m afraid you will have to cancel with Katie, baby. Tell her you’re having a bad hair day.”
He leaves the room laughing. I curl into the fetal position, holding myself while I cry…
CHAPTER 15
Reed
“You’ve got a lot of talent, Reed Lane. You might be the best I’ve seen walk through those doors.”
My heart rate kicks up. That’s always great to hear, it really is. It’s something you never get tired of hearing as a performer. Still, when a major talent agent tells you that, it means something extra. It means that maybe, just maybe, all those dreams you’ve had that you thought were silly about performing in arenas, opening for big names that have always been your heroes, attending award shows, maybe being recognized for your music—all of it—might not be just a pipe dream.
“Thank you, Ms. Marks,” I respond when I find my voice. I move my hands under the table and dry my sweaty palms on my jeans.
“Trisha. Calling me Ms. Marks makes me feel old as dirt and I’m not that much older than you in the grand scheme of things.” I grin. She’s a gorgeous woman with a straight bob hairstyle and flaming red hair that I suspect is out of a bottle. She’s slim—almost to the point of being too skinny. Her eyes are an arresting green. If I were guessing, I’d say she’s probably about twenty years older than I am. I guess in some circles that’s not being too much older. The truth is, I don’t really care. She’s offering me my dream and that means everything.
“Trisha it is,” I tell her, smiling, and nervous as fuck. My whole life could hinge on this meeting—a meeting that I’m finally getting. If it wasn’t for a family illness that took her out of town, Trisha would have heard me sing at the bar two months ago. Beggars can’t be choosers. I’m just damn thankful that she’s here now.
“Good, I think you and I are going to have a very long and profitable relationship, Reed Lane.”
“You do?”
“I do. I tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to book you in a couple of venues around town. I want to see what happens. If I’m right about you—and I’m rarely wrong—we will go from there—which means a contract. Then, we will see if I can sell you to a label as the next big thing.”
“Shit….” I hiss, so stunned that I’m unable to say anything else.
“I take it that means you’d be okay with that?” she laughs.
“More than just okay,” I respond.
“Good,” she says while taking out a card from her jacket pocket. “This is my business card. You call first thing in the morning. I’ll let you know where your first gig is then. We’ll set up a date to meet again after that.”
“Sounds good,” I answer, hoping she can’t tell that my voice is cracking. “I truly appreciate this, Ms.—” I stop when she pegs me with a look. “Trisha.”
“Just don’t disappoint me.”
“I won’t. I’m available any time except for next Friday,” I respond, eager for her to see that this is important to me. “You just tell me where to be and I’m there.”
“Next Friday?”
“Yes. I’m playing here again.”
“I would think that any gigs I get you would take precedence over this place, Reed.”
“It will from here out, but I already gave my word that I’d perform next Friday. The owner had an act cancel and asked me personally to fill in.”
“Can’t you explain that you’re auditioning for your agent and need to bow out?” she asks.
“I gave my word.”
“You big on loyalty, Reed?”
“Yes, ma’am. I can’t say a lot of men in my family are. I’d like to be the one that is.”
“Loyalty is a good trait. I like clients who are loyal to me. That said, you shouldn’t let loyalty stand in the way of your dreams, Reed Lane.”
“Dreams don’t mean a hell of a lot of anything if you exchange them for your soul,” I counter.
“Funny, I think most, if not all, of my other clients would disagree with you. Very well, then, I’ll make sure not to book you for next Friday. I won’t make that allowance again. From here on out, if I take you on, what I set up always—and I mean always—comes first. Understand?”
“Understand,” I answer, glad that she didn’t walk away.
“Good. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“I’ll call.”
“See that you do, Reed Lane.”
My forehead curls as she repeats my full name yet again.
“Do you always use a person’s full name in conversation?” I ask, genuinely interested in knowing.
“Only when I’m trying out how it would sound at venues and in the industry.”
“How does it sound?”
“Boring,” she frowns.
“That’s not good,” I respond. “You know, considering it’s my name and the only one I have.”
She waves it off as if that’s of no concern.