Chapter Four #2
“Please, let it go. You’ll only make it worse. It’ll die down.” She continued pleading with him until he put his phone down.
“Let’s listen to some music,” she said.
“I’m letting Matt know about this,” he said, texting his tour manager.
Christine stared at him, willing him to let it go.
He exhaled slowly. “Okay. Here are the three songs I like the most. Two came from you and one came from another publisher. Three different themes and all different tempos,” Austin said.
Christine held her breath. Her anxiety level rose.
If he chose the other publisher’s song, it could be eight to ten months before she could pitch to him again.
Did Hit Songs Publishing have ten months to wait?
She needed him to cut one of her songs but didn’t want to steer him.
An artist had to pick the best song for their personality and sound.
If that song wasn’t hers, she’d have to accept it.
He scrolled through his phone, connected it to the sound system, and played the three songs.
Just like she did in her office, Christine silenced her phone, set it aside, and gave all her attention to the music.
She intimately knew the two songs she had pitched but wanted to hear them in a different environment, along with the third song.
Sometimes music was perspective, and this would give her some.
She didn’t say anything until the final chords of the last song faded.
“I know I pitched it, but I really like the ballad. The message moved me. It’s a story song, and telling a story is what country music is best known for. It’s also what the format has been lacking in the last few years.”
“So that would be your choice?” Austin asked.
Christine knew she had to be honest. “My only concern is that it doesn’t have a chorus. It has three very strong verses.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Sometimes a song without a chorus has a harder time making a good showing in market research. Since the chorus repeats two or three times, it’s what listeners remember. And it’s what radio programmers use to test a song with the audience.”
“I still don’t have a real sense of what the research tells a radio person to do. My label always waves me off when I ask and tells me to focus on singing and performing. They say it’s their job to worry about research.”
“They’re right. But it’s fair for you to want to know.
The research tells a programmer if the audience loves, likes, or dislikes a song.
The more they love it, the more radio will play it.
If they dislike it, they play it less. A chorus usually sticks with the listener and causes them to be more familiar with the song, usually meaning songs with choruses perform better in research. ”
“Understood. But a great song can still research without a chorus, right?”
“It can.”
“What’s your gut feeling?”
“It’s strong. And you repeat the title several times. That would stay with the listener. I like it,” Christine said.
“Do any stand out as definite hits or absolute failures?”
“The midtempo is fun. I think it’ll be a favorite with women, and they’re our core audience in country music.”
“And they love a song where the dude admits he screwed up and had to beg to get her back.”
“Won’t argue that.” She paused before commenting on the song that wasn’t hers.
Truth was, she didn’t feel it was as strong as the other two.
And she could honestly tell herself it wasn’t just because someone else had brought it to him.
“The up-tempo about the party in the field with beer and chicks in Daisy Dukes isn’t my favorite.
It’s been done to the point of being overdone.
I know it makes for a fun video, but I think the audience is over that theme,” she said. “And I know radio programmers are.”
“Yeah, I kind of felt the same. I wanted to make it a different kind of party song, but it came out sounding like all the others. I couldn’t find a way to give it a unique twist.”
“There’s only so much you can do with a kegger,” she said.
“Good point. I’m not ready to make a decision yet, but I feel closer,” Austin said.
Christine screamed internally. She had hoped to nail him down to one of the songs today. She couldn’t show him her stress, though. It wasn’t fair to put that on him.
Austin rubbed the back of his neck. He closed his eyes and winced with pain.
“You okay?”
“I must have slept wrong. My neck hurts.”
“Can I get you something?”
“Would you mind massaging it? I can’t reach it.”
“Oh, well, sure. I took a massage class back in college. Got a health credit for it. It’s been a while, but I can try.”
Austin lay down on the couch and Christine sat beside him.
“Hold on.” Austin sat back up and took his shirt off.
Christine tried to look anywhere other than his amazing abs—and shoulders, and back. And now she had to touch him. She started to massage his neck and shoulders. His body slumped. The muscles softened at her touch. She rubbed his head, knowing that sometimes helped her when she had neck pain.
Austin groaned.
“Does that hurt?”
“No.” His voice sounded raspy.
Christine continued. She often got massages herself and knew what she liked. She tried to do the same for Austin.
Austin shifted. Then shifted again.
“Everything all right?” she asked.
“Yeah, other than I’m fucking hard as a rock.” His voice dropped, giving it a husky quality.
“You do have some tight muscles.”
“That’s not the muscle I’m talking about,” he said, shifting again. He rolled to his side and Christine couldn’t mistake the muscle he was referring to. His sweatpants did nothing to hide the obvious.
“Wow.” Christine said it without meaning to.
“I told you it was impressive.” He gave her an Elvis-type smile with a full-on lip curl.
“Oh my. I didn’t mean to . . . I mean, that’s not what I was . . .”
“It’s okay, Chrissy. You have great hands.” He took her hand in his. He reached up and put his other hand behind her head, pulling her toward him. He paused, looking into her eyes before settling his gaze on her lips.
Her head was pounding with one thought. He is going to kiss me.
The door to the bus opened and closed, followed by footsteps. Nobody sneaks onto a tour bus. He broke off eye contact and looked at the door.
A female voice said, “Hello?”
Christine pulled away from Austin.
“Damn. Next time,” Austin said.
“Uh-huh.” She stood and straightened her shirt. “I should probably go.”
“I’m going to give my boy a minute to go down, and I’ll meet you in catering.”
She stumbled out the door and ran into Alicia.
“Hey,” Christine said.
“Uh, hey. Is Austin back there?”
“Um, yeah. He is. We were, um, listening to some music.”
“Is Matt?”
Christine stood still. Matt! Her crush. And here she almost kissed Austin. What was she thinking? She wasn’t thinking. Warmth spread across her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak, but only her breath came out. She closed her eyes and shook her head.
“Hello?” Alicia said.
“Huh? What? Oh, sorry. No, Matt isn’t here. Did you try production?”
“He isn’t there. They said he was heading for the bus.”
“I haven’t seen him.” Christine wanted to get away, be alone, and think.
Had Matt come to the bus and they hadn’t heard him?
No. No way. The door squeaked and the floor shook every time someone came on.
They’d have known. Unless they were so into the massage and near-kiss that they’d missed it.
But no—she’d heard when Alicia came in. Christine needed to calm down.
She left the bus and practically ran to the ladies’ dressing room, happy to find nobody was in there.
She sat on the couch and tried to call Julianna.
She got her voicemail. When her text chimed a moment later, she jumped.
It was from Austin. I’m in catering. Coming?
Austin was probably unfazed by the whole thing. He kissed a different woman every night. Maybe more than one. It meant nothing to him. She would try to match his nonchalance.
She texted back. Yep. On my way.
After getting her food, she sat next to Austin while Matt had an altercation with two of the servers.
He had a phone in his hand and was pointing to it and yelling.
Seeing him made her heart beat a little faster.
He was in his standard black fitted T-shirt.
His jeans molded to his body in all the right places.
She chastised herself. How could she almost kiss Austin one minute and have her heart flutter over Matt the next? What was happening to her?
Christine looked back to where Matt stood and pointed to him. “What do you think is going on over there?” she asked Austin.
“No idea. The crap that guy puts up with is ridiculous. I can’t keep up with it,” he said.
They finished eating and Austin left to take a shower.
Christine walked over to Matt. “Everything okay?” she asked.
“I just had to fire two people.”
“Why?”
“I’m hesitant to say anything, but they had pictures of you on their phones. I think they were the ones posting things about you.”
“Do they even know me? Why would they do that?”
“They said they’d seen other people do it and were just having fun,” he said. His lips thinned and he gave a huff.
“Fun? This is fun for people? What kind of low-life idiot considers this fun?”
“Let it out, Christine. Wish you’d said that to their faces.”
Christine paused and gave herself a moment to gather her wits. “Thank you for asking them to go. Maybe now it’ll stop. I just don’t understand why someone would do that to a complete stranger.”
“People suck. That’s why.”
“Good point. What’s next on our agenda?” Christine put her hand on Matt’s arm. It was solid, muscular. She was slow to let go.
“We wait. We rush, we wait, we rush, we wait. That’s life on tour. Three o’clock is the witching hour,” Matt said. “Then it’s balls to the wall.”
Christine nodded.
“Oh, sorry. Was that offensive?”
“Was what offensive?” Christine asked.