I just don’t know why he would single me out. Especially now. As head of Re Records, he has more power than me. Yes, he answers to shareholders, and I don’t, but Gerry could have done what I did and created his own label. I don’t understand why he would be jealous of me. It doesn’t make sense.
“You’re not convinced?”
I shrug. There’s something in my gut that tells me it’s more than that, but I don’t know what it could be. But my gut was wrong about Juniper. Or maybe it wasn’t.
“Maybe you slept with his sister. Or mother. Or wife or something.”
“It’s something. I just don’t know what. Being here makes me feel vulnerable, like he’ll be picking over my business while I’m gone.”
“Did you hear that we have the internet now? You can stay in touch with anyone wherever they are. It’s a goddamn miracle.”
“I have no idea why your career in stand-up never took off.”
“Me neither,” he deadpans. “Most of your artists aren’t based in New York anyway, are they?”
“Some of them are, and a lot of them fly in and out all the time. So I catch up with people a lot in New York. And I fly to LA most months. I like doing things face-to-face. It builds trust. And looking someone in the eye it... I think you see more.”
“Well, you certainly see their irises,” Byron says.
“I mean about their intentions and character. And also, people tell you things face-to-face that they wouldn’t tell you over a call. They’ll gossip or mention something that wouldn’t otherwise have come up. I never think you get the full picture over a call—even if it’s video.”
“So, go back. I’m sure Vivian wouldn’t mind.”
“It’s not Vivian I’m worried about. I’m sure she’d be fine with it. Her manager and I made a deal that I’d be here because he can’t be. I knowhewill mind if I take off. And I can’t afford to piss him off. I could ask him—Vivian is so incredibly low-maintenance. I just don’t want to rock the boat. Maybe I could suggest to him that I go back for a few days over a weekend. Vivian seems to treat recording like a nine-to-five job. Gotta admire her for it. She wants to carve out time with her family, but I’ve never seen anything likeit. I’m used to rock stars who don’t open their eyes before dinnertime and then work all through the night.”
“She probably doesn’t have the required drug habit.”
I chuckle. “Right.”
“Sounds like a good compromise. Go back to New York over a weekend. Check things out. But there’s plenty you can do from here to figure out what Gerry’s up to.”
“Yeah, maybe I need to be more proactive instead of waiting to see what his next move is.”
I need to take action instead of sitting here, waiting for Gerry to strike. I’m going to start by calling all the managers of my signed artists and catching up. Even if Vivian wants me in the studio, I can fit those calls in around that. And then I’ll figure out the best time to fly back to New York.
SIXTEEN
Juniper
I make sure I close the screen door as quietly as possible. Riley should be asleep by now, but I don’t want to tempt fate. This is my golden hour. Today’s chores are done. I have sixty minutes to myself before I need to head to bed.
I take a seat on the bench and open my book. I chose it from the library because it had a picture of the Empire State Building on the cover. Reading about it is the closest thing I’ll ever get to visiting New York City.
Just as I finish the first paragraph, the headlights of a truck light up the porch.
Is it my dad? He didn’t say he’d be coming by. As the truck swings to the side, my stomach flips. That’s Byron’s truck.
It’s Fisher.
He offers me a grin through his window. I didn’t realize how much I wanted to see him until right now.
We’ve been trading texts all day, trying to get another night on the calendar. It hasn’t been easy. Mom has clubsmost days—knitting, reading, pottery. And anyway, if I ask her to sit more than once in a week, she’s going to pin me down and make me spill my guts. I can’t face the idea of saying I’m having really great casual sex with an out-of-towner and I want to make the most of it. It’s not that she’s a prude; my mom would probably encourage it. I just don’t want her—and everyone else, including Riley—thinking that Fisher and I are riding off into the sunset together. We’re both clear this isn’t anything it’s not.
“Hey,” I say as he takes the steps up to the porch. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
He grins, and my stomach flips like it’s a goddamn dolphin’s tail. It’s just that he’s so pretty and so, so good with his tongue.
“I thought I’d drop by and ask you out the old-fashioned way—face-to-face.” He holds up a bottle of wine. “I brought a beverage this time.”
