21. Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-one
Callie parked in front of Lucy’s but didn’t get out of the car right away. She was ten minutes early. If she were feeling more social, she would go on inside, grab a table, and drink a cup of tea while she waited for her dad to walk over from the school on his lunch break, but the last thing she wanted right now was light chit-chat with semi-strangers. Her entire body hummed with adrenaline. The idea of leaving the band—now, not in two years—consumed her.
As she leaned back in the driver’s seat, tapping out a rhythm on the lower curve of the steering wheel, her gaze came to rest on the sign for “The Law Office of Katherine Rodriguez.” She dismissed the idea before it could fully form. Kat was not feeling very charitable toward Callie right now, not after those photos. Callie had made Kat’s job more difficult, and that was not a good way to make friends.
The problem was that Callie had run out of options. She had looked for other area lawyers, but each time she picked up the phone to call one of them, she put it right back down again. The idea of choosing a lawyer at random—rolling the dice with her future—didn’t make any sense. This was too important .
Maybe in this case, the devil you know….
Callie glanced around, wondering if her tabloid stalker lurked in the bushes, or sat drinking coffee at Lucy’s. Thinking about it made her angry all over again. She could hear Brian’s words echoing in her mind. ‘I own you.’ Nobody owned her. Not Brian. And not some sleazy photographer.
Callie opened the car door before she could chicken out, moving quickly toward Kat’s office. She didn’t pause to reconsider. She hopped up onto the sidewalk, crossed the distance to the door, and pushed it open to the jingle of a bell. The time had come to take action.
Only when Kat emerged from the private office did Callie have second thoughts. Once again, Kat looked like a lawyer from a TV show, smart and sexy and dangerous. And once again Callie felt childish in comparison, in her flowing skirt and cowboy boots. To make matters worse, she stood at least six inches shorter than Kat in those power heels.
But a little adrenaline goes a long way. Callie used every once of it to stand tall and lift her chin.
“Callie, what a surprise.”
Kat said the words, but to Callie she didn’t look surprised. Must be all the lawyer training.
“Do you have a minute?” Callie asked.
“Of course.” Kat was all poker-faced politeness, even as she checked her watch. “Is this about Danny?”
“No.”
Kat motioned Callie toward the upholstered chairs right there in the waiting area. Callie chose a seat with a view of the street, so she could keep an eye out for her father through the window. Kat took the opposite chair, facing her across the low coffee table.
“What can I do for you?” asked Kat in a tightly professional voice.
“I need a lawyer. I was hoping you could help. ”
Now that was a look of surprise. Callie smiled.
“It depends on the nature of your problem,” responded Kat cautiously. “I specialize in ‘domestic relations,’ which is really anything that affects families. Divorce, custody, adoption, wills, estates, trusts, that kind of thing. But this is a small town, so I also do some real estate and small business work. What kind of help do you need, exactly?”
“You know that I’m in a band. I need to get out.”
Kat didn’t even blink.
“So what’s stopping you?”
Callie laughed helplessly. She had only asked the obvious question.
“It’s complicated,” she said.
Was there even a way to explain in words all the different ropes that bound her? Ten years of hard work. The force of Brian’s ambition. Her signature on the contract with the record company. The possibility that they would struggle without her. The fear that walking away would mean the end of her music career. The fear that Brian was right.
“Of course it is. That’s why you need a lawyer.”
Mindful of the fact that her father would walk past the window at any moment, Callie summed up as quickly as she could, outlining Brian’s threats of legal action and his claim that he ‘owned’ her. All the rest was just emotional baggage.
“So what you’re telling me is that you signed a band agreement when you were eighteen and na?ve, you’ve lived with it all these years, and now you want to figure out how to end it. You’re afraid that he’ll sue you, or that he or the record company can somehow compel you to stay. Does that sound right?”
“You have a talent for brevity.”
She smiled. “Goes with the territory.”
“So what do you think?”
“I think I need to see the contract. Can you leave the band? Yes, of course. Nobody can make you stay. Will it be messy? Probably. But I can’t tell you anything for sure until I see the documents.”
Callie could feel the little bubbles of hope fizzing and popping inside. She didn’t care how messy this got, as long as there was a way out.
“So what happens next?”
“You bring me whatever you have. I’d like to see any sort of paperwork that relates to the band. Contracts for gigs you’ve played or are going to play, copyright notices you’ve filed for songs. Bank records. Whatever you’ve got, I’d like to see it. Do you have access to those records?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” Callie spoke calmly, but inside she did a shameless victory dance. Brian had handed her the keys to her prison cell. If he’d had any clue, he never would have done it.
“Get those to me as soon as you can and I’ll see what I can do,” said Kat.
“So you don’t need to be a music industry lawyer to help me? I was afraid I’d have to see a specialist.”
This was the perfect excuse for Kat to step aside, saying something like ‘You’re right, maybe it would be best if I referred you to someone else,’ but she didn’t do it.
“You might, but maybe not. You want to find a graceful way to leave a partnership. Unless there’s some music industry twist to your case, I should be able to help. And if I can’t, I can help you find someone with the right skills.”
Callie saw her father approaching from the direction of the school and rose from her chair. Kat followed suit.
“I need to meet my father for lunch now, but I can bring the papers over later,” said Callie.
“Sounds good,” said Kat.
Callie paused by the door, unable to leave without saying something about the past .
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t get a chance to say it back then, and I know it’s been years, but I’m sorry about your Mom—about everything.”
Kat didn’t pretend to misunderstand.
“Thanks,” she said. “Sometimes it seems like a million years ago, and sometimes it’s right here with me, like it just happened.”
“Why did you come back?” asked Callie. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to put down new roots somewhere else?”
Kat sighed.
“So many reasons. To honor the memory of my mother. To make sure I never forget. To make sure it never happens again.” The answer was unexpectedly raw and honest. “When I work with teenagers, I tell them that they’ll be free of their past one day. I guess I need that to be true for me, too.”
“So do I,” agreed Callie.
Kat offered a hand and Callie accepted, sealing their unexpected connection with a handshake.
Callie ducked out of Kat’s office, Brian’s threats no longer weighing her down. She treasured the fragile little bubbles of hope rising within her. Perhaps, if she collected enough of them, they would carry her through.
“Hey, Dad.” Callie caught up with her father as he was opening the door to Lucy’s.
“Hey, sugar, where did you come from? I saw your car and thought you were already inside.”
Callie grinned and slipped through the open door.
“My secret.”
“We’ll see about that,” he muttered with a smile.
“Sit anywhere,” called Lucy from behind the counter. “I’ll be right over.” She offered warm-ups to the usual crew of retired officers and turned up the volume on the scanner. They had beaten the lunch rush, and the only other person in the diner was Callie’s old ‘friend,’ Larry Hutchinson. Thankfully, he stayed put at his tiny table in the far corner of the room. He couldn’t seem to resist winking at her, but she pretended not to notice.
Callie and Luke chose a table with a view of Main Street. As they got settled, she realized that her father might be even more excited about her demo recording session tomorrow than she was. Maybe he always buzzed with energy during the school day, but she could practically see it crackling off his skin.
“So are you ready for tomorrow?” he asked.
“I think so. I’ve got a working song list, and it’s a nice mix of moods and tempos. My plan is to lay down a solid recording of each song before I do anything fancy. If I have time, I’ll go back and layer secondary instrument tracks, or backing vocals, but the most important thing is to get all the songs recorded.”
“I agree. In fact, I was thinking—”
“Luke James, where the hell have you been? It’s been months since you came in here to see me.”
“Lucy,” he answered, “I don’t know how the time got away from me. Forgive me?”
“Don’t let it happen again,” she said. “And where’s Dora?”
“Painting.”
“Well, make sure you bring her with you next time. And you,” she accused, turning her attention to Callie. “How many years has it been since you came to see me? Five?”
“Six.” Callie ducked her head to avoid a swat from Lucy’s order pad.
“Six years! Unbelievable. I guess that’s what happens when you make the big time. You forget the people who gave you your first break.”
“I did not!” Callie couldn’t tell if Lucy was kidding or not, but she was insulted either way.
“Well, then, you should come play here again one day. ”
“I will.”
“Great. How about Sunday?”
“Sunday?” Callie squeaked. She shot her father a ‘rescue me’ look, but he leaned back in his chair and smiled, enjoying himself way too much. She nudged him—well, okay, kicked him—under the table.
“Actually, Callie is only in town for a little while longer,” he observed. “Two more weeks, right?”
She nodded, eyeing him suspiciously. Was he going to rescue her or throw her under the bus?
“If you want her to play, I’d go for Memorial Day weekend. It’ll give you more time for publicity, and you’ll get more of the tourist crowd.”
Callie glared at him. This was no rescue. She had just been thrown to the wolves—and by her own father.
“Oh, that would be perfect!” crowed Lucy. “Eleven thirty on Sunday, just like the old days?”
“Of course,” answered Luke.
Callie clamped her mouth shut, vowing to give him a piece of her mind as soon as they were alone. If she were a conspiracy theorist, then Lucy would be on the suspect list, too, but she couldn’t be sure. He might have cooked this one up all by himself.
“Wonderful.” Lucy fluttered away, already plotting. “I’ll make posters. Oh! And I can put a notice in the paper.” She turned back abruptly. “Oh, I almost forgot, what can I get for you?”
After they had ordered, and Lucy had disappeared into the kitchen, Callie laid into her father.
“How could you? You planned this! ‘Let’s meet for lunch, sugar,’” she mimicked. “‘We haven’t been to Lucy’s for ages.’” She dropped her voice to a fierce whisper. “How am I supposed to keep a low profile if I’m playing public gigs?”
He laughed, not bothering to deny her accusations .
“Relax. This is the local diner. You played your first gig here when you were, what, eleven? Twelve? Of course you would come back here to play again. Nobody will think it’s a big deal.”
She groaned and buried her face in her hands. Should she tell him about the tabloid stalker? Of course, that would involve admitting her involvement with Adam, and she wasn’t quite ready to share that with her dad yet. This was supposed to be a vacation, not a soap opera. Where had her quiet, restful escape gone?
“So about tomorrow….” He moved on to the next subject as if she were done lecturing him. “I was thinking that you might need an extra pair of hands.”
“Why?” she asked, confused.
“We booked the studio time, but you won’t have any help.”
“Won’t there be a tech?” She let him get away with the distraction. She really, really wanted things to go well tomorrow.
“Not unless you count Gib. He’ll get you rolling, but after that you’ll be on your own. He’s got a radio station to run.”
“Great,” said Callie. Now her demo was going to take twice as long to record and it would probably suck if she was tweaking all the equipment settings herself.
“So I’ve arranged to take the day off.”
“You what? But, wait, can you do that? What about your classes?”
“That’s what subs and personal days are for.” He reached across the table to squeeze her hand. “This is important, and I’d like to help you make it good.”
“Wow. Thanks,” said Callie, almost willing to forgive him for plotting with Lucy. But not quite.
He grinned. “Just trying to help.”