Chapter 9
COOPER
Present day
“I apologized to Stephanie, but I don’t think it did any good. I ended up knocking her to the ground.”
“Beyoncé?” Deke is ignoring me.
He and I are sitting at the table, brainstorming our entertainment options.
I’m also trying to figure out if there is anything that can be done about this morning’s fiasco with Stephanie.
I thought it was all pretty funny, but I obviously made a few mistakes.
Starting with not letting Deke know that I was coming early.
I could tell Stephanie found no humor in any aspect of the morning.
That’s not like her. She’s got a great sense of humor, and she would have normally rolled with the situation a little better, even considering it involved me.
But tension has been rolling off her in waves all morning.
“Beyoncé’s people are radio silent right now.” I lean forward, elbows on the table, fingers steepled together in thought. “I could try to use Lou again to help me get on Stephanie’s good side.”
“Adele?”
“She’s taking a break from performing after her Vegas residency, but we can still try.” I gesture to our pad of paper to make sure Deke writes down that possibility. “Stephanie really likes Lou, and I think?—”
“Cooper! Seven weeks. Seven weeks. You’ve got to focus so that we can get a few leads and start making phone calls.
Then let’s try to fix whatever it is you broke.
” I look over and find him smirking at me.
“How is it that you ended up knocking Stephanie to the ground? Again?” He shakes his head and puts his hand up.
“No. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.
Let’s focus on work.” He taps the pad of paper with his finger.
“Alright.” I try to clear the Stephanie situation from my mind and focus on the more pressing task at hand, but I can’t help but think that maybe I need to let go of the fantasy I’ve always had that something would change between Stephanie and me—that she’d give me a chance.
“Swift is busy with everything going on in her life now. Sabrina Carpenter is already on tour. Ariana Grande is . . .” Stephanie’s door opens, and I hear her walk into the room.
The way my chair is turned, I can’t see her, but I get a whiff of her vanilla scent as she passes behind me and into the kitchen.
My mind whirls offtrack again. “Ariana Grande is . . . um, doing something right now. I can’t remember what.
” Because all I want to do is turn around to see if Stephanie’s doing better.
Deke saves my collapsing train of thought. “I already checked, and she’s booked.”
I get a sudden rush of inspiration. “What about Icefall?”
Something thuds in the kitchen. I turn around to see Stephanie bending to pick up a bowl from the floor.
“Sorry.” Her voice is quiet. “It slipped out of my hands.” Her hair is up in a towel, there isn’t a stitch of makeup on her face, and she’s wearing a light-green tank top and navy shorts.
Involuntarily my mouth drops open; I’ve never seen her like this.
She’s always wearing makeup with her hair done and is dressed to impress in the latest fashions—but she looks incredible like this.
More than incredible. Deke clears his throat. “Icefall is off the table.”
“Why?” I tear my eyes off Stephanie and turn to Deke.
“They are probably the biggest band in the world right now, and they’re fresh off their world tour.
From what I understand, they aren’t going into the studio for another couple of months.
This might be the perfect window to catch them—they might have scheduled themselves some downtime right now! ”
“Coop, I don’t think they would work out.” Deke’s tone carries a sharp edge of warning that I don’t understand.
“Let’s at least try.” I throw the words back like a challenge. “Icefall’s not only the biggest act we’ve come up with so far, but the first one that might be an actual possibility.”
“No.”
“You’re dismissing them? Just like that?”
“Yep. Just like that. What are other options?”
For the first time in over a decade, I can’t read anything about Deacon. I can’t decipher his tone of voice, and he’s making zero sense to me. “Deke, what am I missing?”
“What are you two talking about?” Stephanie’s voice is still quiet, and I can hear tension behind her words. She must still be upset or embarrassed about what happened in the bedroom this morning, or what happened after that . . . also in the bedroom.
I adjust my chair to look at her. “We’re in full-scramble mode trying to find a headliner act for a charity fundraiser concert.
” Will I get any bonus points from her if she knows I’m doing something for a charity?
“The problem is that they need to be as good as, or better than, Bruno Mars. Acts like that can be booked months—usually years—in advance. This event is in seven weeks, so we’ve got our work cut out for us. ”
“Charity event?” Her voice is still tense but hints that she might be interested in what we’re doing.
“It’s nothing, Steph.” Deke sounds like he’s trying to dismiss the whole conversation.
What is going on with Deke? “It’s for one of our oldest and best clients, who’s also like family.
He does a fundraiser every year in memory of his wife who passed away.
This is what he lives for every year, so we’re trying to do everything we can to help him.
So no,” I pin Deke with a curious stare, “it’s not nothing. ”
“And you have seven weeks till the event?”
“Steph, you don’t want to worry about our fundraiser.” Deke’s voice is strangely soothing, almost like he’s handling Stephanie with kid gloves.
I lean back in my chair and look down at the pad of paper we’ve been writing possibilities on. It’s an impressively short and completely improbable list. I know we’re just getting started, but I feel defeat nipping at our heels. “Deke, do you think we’re going to be able to pull this off?”
“I don’t know.” He runs a weary hand down his face. “But we have to keep trying. It’s for Frank.”
I stand in frustration and go to the fridge, hoping a drink will revitalize my brain.
Stephanie stands close by, finishing up some breakfast. “What’s the fundraiser for?” She looks up from her food and makes eye contact, but unfortunately it’s with Deke.
Deke answers, “It doesn’t matter.”
“Alzheimer’s,” I answer at the same time. Her surprised look shifts to me for a second before dropping back to her food.
She starts rocking back and forth on her feet. “Alzheimer’s.” No one says anything for a few heart beats. “That’s a pretty good cause.” The energy in the room shifts uncomfortably, and I try to figure out what’s happening. “Is this Frank a good guy?”
Deke slowly stands up and moves toward Steph. “Yeah, he’s great, and we’d do anything for him, but this is our problem. We’ll figure something out.”
She stops moving and looks intently into Deke’s eyes. “How big of a deal is this?”
Deke drops his voice. “It’s a pretty big deal, but again, not your mess.”
Stephanie nods her head a few times. “Okay. Good luck then.” She puts her dishes in the dishwasher, goes back into the bedroom, and shuts the door.
“What the heck was?—”
“Don’t ask.” Deke dismisses my question before it’s even fully formed. “What are other options?”
We begin messaging, calling, and sending emails to every contact we know, trying to see who’s available. After an hour, Deke looks at a text on his phone and lets out a tired exhale. “We’ve got someone booked.”
“Excuse me?” I know I didn’t hear him correctly.
Deke pauses before answering. “We’ve got Icefall.”
“You mean you're fine if we reach out to their people?”
“No. I mean they’ll do it.”
I stare at him blankly, not fully grasping his words. “They will do what, exactly?”
“They will do the fundraiser.”
I say nothing for a moment. “Forgive me if I’m a little confused. What am I missing?”
“They said they’d do the show.” I wait for Deke to tell me the catch, but he doesn’t say anything. He sits there like he’s waiting to get a root canal.
“I’m sorry,” I lean as far forward as I can, trying to get a read on Deke, but he’s not giving me anything, “sixty minutes ago, you told me they were off the table—but now you say they’ll do the show?” Deke nods.
I still can’t make sense of anything and sit back with a smirk. “This is some kind of joke. How would they know about the show if we didn’t reach out?”
“Does the fine minutia even matter, Coop? They were contacted. They said they would do it.”
“Wait! So you’re serious about all this?
We really did get Icefall for the fundraiser?
” When Deke gives me another nod, I leap to my feet.
“If this is real, how are you not jumping up and down? It’s Icefall!
They’re bigger than Bruno Mars. Frank is going to be ecstatic!
What aren’t you telling me? Because from where I am, booking Icefall after one hour of work is the coup of the century! ”
Deke nods his head with a little more enthusiasm and sits up a little straighter. “You’re right. This is huge. Frank is going to think we are miracle workers.”
“That’s because we are! Or at least someone is! Tell me again how this happened.”
“I know someone with a connection to the band, and they made it happen.”
“How did I not know we have a connection to Icefall?” Deke opens his mouth to talk, but I cut him off. “We really got Icefall for the fundraiser? We really got Icefall for the fundraiser?”
At my repeated question, Deke finally cracks a small smile and laughs at my enthusiasm. “We did.”
A million things race through my mind. “Deke, you’ve been sitting here with me this entire time.
I’ve heard every phone call you’ve been on.
I’m out-of-my-mind happy about this, but I have no idea how it happened!
” I sit back down and stare at Deke. “Have you been holding out on me all these years? Are you secretly a wizard?”
At that, Deke cracks the first full smile I’ve seen from him since he told me the great news.
“I already told you. I know someone with a connection to the band. They shot me a text that they made it happen.”
“I don’t care who this person is, I want to kiss them full on the mouth!”
“If you kiss me on the mouth, I will cut your throat out.” Stephanie’s cool voice rips through the room. My head whips around to see her standing in her open doorway, hair done, makeup on, and looking as gorgeous as ever in a denim wraparound dress.
I turn to look at Deke, and his smile falters.
“Excuse me?” I’ve gone from ecstatic to more confused than ever.
Deke clears his throat. “She’s our connection.”
I look back and forth between Stephanie and Deke, waiting for one of them to crack a smile or tell me it’s a joke.
Stephanie rolls her eyes. “It’s fine, Deke. You can tell him.” She grabs a glass and some orange juice from the fridge, pours herself a drink, and leans back on the counter.
“Cooper, let me introduce you to Chase Collins’s ex-girlfriend.”