She rolled her eyes at Ellie, behind his back, of course. He was such a pompous ass, but she’d needed an agent, and very few had been willing to take a risk on an unknown musician.
“I want to see all the offers.” She never wanted to be an artist who blindly trusted her agent. She intended to be in charge of her own destiny.
He cleared his throat and frowned at her. “I know what’s best, Vivienne.”
“And it’s my future. So I want to hear them all.”
He glanced at his tablet. “Well, most involve touring as an opening act. The main acts aren’t huge … yet, but I can make some calls and–”
“No touring, Owen. I want to be in one place so I can hole up in a recording studio during the day and work on new music. I want the time and money to record.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers. We’re lucky that these offers are coming in, but there is no guarantee they’ll be around forever,” he said, his tone full of impatience.
He might have a point. Not that he wasn’t a jerk at times, but she needed to hear him out. “Let’s sit down and you can tell me what you’ve got so far.”
For the next thirty minutes, he went through a list of opportunities that included opening for B-list bands, and if she wasn’t so set on staying around the northeast, both for recording and especially for her mother, who was hurting from her brother’s actions, she might have jumped at the opportunity. But she’d rather play local clubs for the year than take off on her mother at such a difficult time for both of them.
Her father, Victor Clark Senior, had passed away from a heart attack years ago, and that was both a blessing and a curse, because he’d been a big contributor to the bully and abuser her brother, Vic, had become, and Vivi carried her own share of guilt because she’d been his baby girl, his princess. Her brother had been his punching bag. But she preferred not to dwell on either of them now.
She refocused on her agent. “I’ll think about all these, I promise. In the meantime, if something more local comes up, call me immediately.” She really wanted a well-paying gig that would help her afford in-studio recording sessions.
She refused to take help from her mother, who ran a small legal practice but specialized in pro-bono work, so she didn’t make much on her own.
Owen frowned and tapped on his watch. “Ticktock. These offers aren’t going to be open forever. I’ll email you a summary of each.”
She merely smiled at him. He ought to know she couldn’t make a spur-of-the-moment decision. He rose and headed for the foyer. She ushered him out and closed the door behind him, leaning back against it with a sigh.
“He’s such a killjoy,” Ellie muttered.
“Yes. But he’s my killjoy. The only one who’d take me on when no one else would. Now, for the love of God, can we please go get some coffee?”
* * *
The next day, Vivi and Ellie went to the gym, where Vivi did her daily run on the treadmill. Headphones on, she was lost in the beat of the music, when an alert from Owen came up on her phone. Since she’d done her requisite miles, she slowed down and came to a stop, checking her screen as soon as she’d caught her breath.
Call me now.
She pulled up his contact name and placed the call. He answered immediately. “Where’ve you been? Never mind. I need you in my office as soon as possible. I have a man sitting here with an offer that’s going to blow your mind. It’s everything you wanted.”
She glanced down at her gym outfit, knew she was a sweaty mess, and groaned. “But–”
“No buts. I’m keeping him busy talking. Get down here,” he barked.
“Owen! I’m in the gym. I need to go home and change!”
“No time. Hurry.” He disconnected the call.
“Jesus. High-strung much?” she asked the empty air.
“What’s wrong?” Ellie had climbed off her treadmill and was wiping down her face.
Vivi grabbed her own towel and began to wipe down, too. “Owen summoned me. He said he’s got someone in his office I need to meet. Now. On the one hand, I can’t go dressed like this. On the other hand, if I go home to shower and change, it’s going to take me at least an hour.”
She lived in a tiny apartment in Jersey City. Her gym wasn’t close to her apartment. She chose both for their cheap cost and sucked up the hassle. But Owen’s office was close to the gym, and she could be there within ten minutes once she got on the subway.
“Well, you’ve got deodorant in your bag and a little makeup. You’re in leggings and a cropped top. If he’s going to insist, it is what it is.” Ellie walked alongside her as they headed for the locker room.