Chapter 18
Chapter eighteen
Rhys
So he’s just someone you know?
"Why did I get a call from a reality TV producer saying you were excited to be doing a show with her?" Zara says with both her phones open in her palms as she walks up the few stairs to the kitchenette of my tour bus.
"Oh, it was a favor for a friend." Of course he told her I was interested.
"Duncan Paisley, a hockey player. How do you even know him?" She asks.
What do I say here? That I met him when I was supposed to be home moping and had the best thirty six hours of my life.
That he’s a guy I have maneuvered my entire life to be closer to.
That he calls me Charming but really, he’s the one who charms the pants off me.
He’d probably say he charmed the kilt off me.
"His family is from Scotland, just a few miles from my parents."
"Really?" Zara finally looks up at me.
I shrug.
Her eyes narrow. "So he’s just someone you know?"
"Yep."
"There’s more to this but I don’t have the time to figure it out. You don’t actually want to do a reality show, right?"
"No, absolutely not."
"Got it." She exhales. "Alright, you’re on at three. Four songs, no encore. They’re hoping to get everyone back on stage at dusk to sing the anthem before fireworks."
"But I’m not actually American." I always feel a little guilty when being a country musician requires patriotism to a different country.
"I’m betting it doesn’t matter." She smiles flatly.
"Alright fine. So what am I supposed to do between my set and this group number?"
"Enjoy the festival? Eat fried food, get your face painted, meet people."
"Sounds great." I lie.
The phones clank on the countertop Zara has been leaning on and she crosses her arms. "You’ve been in a funk for a while now. Are you still hung up on Mike Kerr?"
I huff a laugh hearing his ridiculous name again. Meek spelled M-I-K-E? How was that not an immediate red flag? "I’ll perk up before the set." I promise instead of explaining I have barely spared a thought for Mike because I’m hung up on a flirty hockey player.
And just when I had stopped hearing phantom notifications he actually texted me last night.
Zara side-eyes me but doesn’t press. For all her "involvement" in my life, she actually tries to keep a level of ignorance about how I’m really feeling. She says it helps her do what’s best for my image.
"Alright, but I want you to know I’ve clocked that you’re off. I’m here for you, in a superficial way of course."
I huff a laugh. "I know."
"But, I get how lonely this job can be. I can try to get you introduced to other musicians if you’re looking for friends or something."
"I appreciate the offer, I’m good. Things are lining up for September?"
"Yeah. They’re excited to have you for the first semester.
You’ll wrap up in early December. And then I’ve booked you with Lennox Calloway to start working on the album after you go home for Christmas.
We’ll get it all laid out before Valentine’s and then we’ll announce the summer tour in early March. "
"You got The Kingmaker to produce this album?"
Zara shifts her attention from her dueling screens to me. "Of course I did. When Lennox, Kingmaker, Calloway is interested you book it."
Shit. This is real. And I would be ruined for cancelling on Lennox.
I choose to ignore the pressure of the most sought after producer being lined up for my album, and next year being already scheduled. Instead, I’m choosing to focus on the fact I’ll be moving to D.C. in a couple months.
It still surprises me, how quickly I rearranged my life to be closer to Duncan. The only other time I’ve run with my instincts like that is when I sent a demo to a record label.
I remember feeling like I had to do it. Like I would always regret not trying.
It worked out for me with my music. I hope I’m as lucky when it comes to my heart.