Chapter 14 Not Long Ago #2
This surprised her, since she hadn’t been in contact with any of the old gang in years. “Why would they say that?”
“We all think a ‘very special guest’ like you could ensure a sold-out event.”
“A ‘very special guest’ like me?” Paloma repeated.
“Sure. I mean, have you looked at your royalty statement lately?” Jace said, her dry humor kicking in at last. “You’re every Netflix subscriber’s favorite musical artist right now.”
That influx of revenue had certainly surprised Paloma.
Her catalogue had lain dormant for a long time, despite some songs being picked up for background music in the CSI franchises, and, typically, streaming paid artists in pennies.
Then the Olympia, California season finale aired, and the craziness of internet fame provided her with more than just pocket money.
However, that wasn’t enough motivation to play a show to satisfy the TikTok generation, along with anyone from the old days who wanted visible proof that she wasn’t dead.
“You could bring longtime and brand-new fans together at the Artemis like no one else,” Jace added. “And you have to know that people have been curious about what you’ve been up to all these years.”
“Things must be really bad for Sabine and the club right now if you think I’m your only hope,” Paloma said with a sideways glance.
Jace didn’t flinch. “Things are bad—very bad—but you could make things better.”
“Flattery aside, I don’t think this is going to work.
I haven’t had a large-scale public appearance since New York.
” That’s what she’d labeled that harrowing day.
Not when I quit being a rock star or when I left my girlfriend of five years with no explanation or when I decided to live my life on my own terms, no matter who I hurt. Just New York.
Jace wasn’t ready to give up. Paloma knew she wouldn’t. “You still play, right? I see your Strat on the stand behind you.”
“Yes,” Paloma admitted.
“Are you singing?”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Jace said, her voice softening.
“So music remains an important part of your life. And I know what Detroit meant to you, and all those musicians who were like family would be thrilled to see you again. Plus it’s just a few numbers on one night.
So let me ask you: What would it take to get you back on stage? ”
Paloma recognized Jace’s relentless negotiation style and knew she wouldn’t stop her pitch until Paloma said yes.
For a brief second, she pictured herself on stage at the Artemis, the lights hot on her face and the crowd pressing forward with their hands in the air, and it was enticing.
But once Jace found out why Paloma had left all those years ago, there would be no way Jace would ever want to speak to her again, much less have her headline the benefit.
The only way to get Jace to give up and move on was using a tactic she wouldn’t see coming.
She took a deep breath. “Why don’t I tell you tomorrow over lunch at my place?”
By the look on her face, Jace had not expected that at all. “That works,” she said, quickly reverting to producer mode. “I’d need to know where you live, though.”
“Are you still in Detroit?” Paloma asked, trying to keep her voice level.
“North of the city,” she said. “In Clawson.”
“I’m in Stone Beach, not far from Traverse City,” Paloma said.
Jace’s eyebrows shot up. “You live up north?”
Paloma realized Jace hadn’t expected to find her at the other end of the state, so far from Detroit yet so close. “I’ll text you the address. It’ll take you about four hours to get here. Could you be here by one?”
“Of course,” Jace said with the level of enthusiasm that, as Paloma remembered, signaled she thought she was close to closing a deal.
“Great. I assume my curried chicken salad is okay, the one with the slivered almonds and the golden raisins. The one you used to like. You haven’t gone vegan or developed a nut allergy, have you?”
Jace chuckled. “I’m the only lesbian I know without special dietary restrictions. The menu sounds great. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you then.”
The phone went dark.
Paloma’s mouth had gone dry, so she got a glass of water before returning to the deck. Bobbie was engrossed in a sudoku game on her phone, a crumpled napkin with scone crumbs on the side table. Paloma sat down in the wicker chair next to her, feeling flushed, like a hot flash was coming on.
“Want to give me a recap?” Bobbie asked, not looking up from her phone.
“I invited her to come over for lunch tomorrow.”
That got Bobbie’s attention. “You did?”
“And she accepted.”
“You asked her on a date during your first conversation in twenty-two years?”
“It’s not a date!” Paloma protested. “It’s a business meeting.”
“Are you going to do the concert?” Bobbie asked.
“Once we chat, I’m not sure she’ll want me to.”
“Would you want to?”
That spark of excitement rekindled, but she snuffed it out with a measured breath. “Even if I did, I don’t sound like I used to. I don’t play like I used to.”
“Of course you don’t,” Bobbie said. “You’re more mature.
You’ve lived a lot more of your life. You bring a different perspective to your material.
Plus you’re in great voice and your technique has a lot more finesse.
It’s high time that more people get to experience that than the Friday night crowd at the Cherry Mill.
” Bobbie stared at Paloma over her wire-rimmed glasses.
“You didn’t answer my question. Would you want to play the Artemis again? ”
The thrum in her chest flared up again. “I don’t know.”
“I think you do know but you’re not willing to admit it. Yet.” With a shrug, Bobbie turned back to her phone. “How’d she look?”
Paloma chuckled. “Very sure of herself. Just like always.”