Chapter 29
Raleigh
THE DOORS ARE CLOSED to the outside world and chairs have been pulled to the big table into the sitting room of Mae’s suite. Dour moods mix with the rumpled burger wrappers on the table. “I don’t think I can perform,” Mae says for the third time since the meeting began.
The rest of the band lounges around in varying states of unrest. “Don’t think you can, or don’t want to?” Robert asks.
“I can’t,” Mae seethes, sinking into her chair further.
“But it’s in the contract,” I state as softly as I can.
I know the hurt Mae is going through, but there’s nothing we can do about it unless we are very ready to lose a very big amount of money.
The debate has been going on for nearly an hour.
The more minutes that tick by, the closer to curtain call night two in New Orleans.
This wretched city has put me through more than I thought was possible. What I believed would be a fight over Mae’s mother and the pull of home has turned into what could be a career altering experience for her, for her band. For me.
“Can we fake the stomach flu and buy us a couple of days to let things simmer down?” Robert asks, the slightest bit of understanding entering his voice.
I nod. “We could, but after the fallout between Mae and Trenton last night and this morning, it might be a tough sell.” I glance over at Mae who’s left her engagement ring off her finger this morning. Her cell comes to life with light but she quickly turns it over.
“Can’t you just pretend, like you always do?” Joe speaks again, the ease gone from his voice. “I mean, really Mae, this is the worst timing.”
Theresa throws out a hand and backhands his chest. “Really, Joe, now is not the time.”
Joe, ever the unhinged drummer, finds his feet. “No, I had to give up a lot to be here. I deal with that prick Trenton because of the doors he’s opened for us, but I am so sick of him and the way he treats Mae. I’m sick of watching her crawl back to him time and time again.”
It’s meant to hit Mae where it hurts, but she merely sighs and waves him away. “I’ll pay you what you’re owed, Joe.” Despite the discourse, Mae’s voice doesn’t wobble in the slightest. She simply sounds tired.
Joe scoffs as if Mae doesn’t understand what he’s saying. “It’s about more than the money, Mae. You—we are better than this.”
Theresa shakes her head wildly. “I’m with Mae on this one.
We’ve all been mistreated by Trenton’s team, the behavior after last night’s incident only proved that they don’t care for us being here in the slightest.” Trenton’s suspected cheating is of course part of that, but the fact they neglected to show any aid to Mae or share any empathy to the situation has me ready to go to war.
“The way to get through this is not to keep suffering on the road. We should go back to Nashville now before the expectations grow any larger.” Mae and Theresa share a knowing nod.
I wish I could be a girl’s girl in this moment, but the fact of the matter is, I have to make the call one way or the other.
Either way, it’s going to make members of this team unhappy.
I turn to the members who have yet to share their opinions. “Robert, Jake, Lyle, I need opinions.” Tapping my fingers lightly on the mahogany table, I patiently wait for their thoughts. Robert refuses to give me anything more than a shrug. Jake shakes his head and takes a drink of his soda.
“Lyle?” Mae asks.
After a long deep breath, Lyle climbs to his feet.
“I only came here to play music. I thought I might want to try something new, but if it’s all the same to you, I might reserve myself to the studio.
I have three kids at home and all this uncertainty isn’t what I was promised when I was given this job. ”
“I understand,” Mae says, perking up at the bitter honesty. “I’ll get you a ticket home. I promise that this decision will not hinder my choices when it comes to recording sessions.”
Lyle nods at Mae and then turns to me as he grabs his jacket. “I thank you for the opportunity. Good luck to you all.”
As the vocalist makes his way out the front door, I catch just a glimpse of Dalton in the hallway. Seeing him makes my heart lurch. We had spent the early morning hours working together and it had come so simply. Wanting that sweet and simple feeling back, I turn back to our dwindling numbers.
“It’s a team decision,” I proclaim with a sigh.
Laying it all out on the table, I explain the nature of the contract.
Running through every number that will come from our pocket and how this may come across at the label.
Then I run through the potential bargaining chips we may have about Trenton’s behavior, the harmful situation with Mae’s stalker, and the fact that an album could come together faster if the tour were to continue on without Mae’s involvement.
The conclusion comes far before I come to terms with the phone call I will be making in mere moments.
The decision? To pull out of the tour. Fight like hell for some grace from the label and then whatever hell to pay is left, Mae will cover.
I hate it. I hate that we have to do it. I hate that I’m dialing the studio manager and I hate that I have a traumatized Nashville star across the table from me who has no idea what’s happened to her life in the last 24 hours.
The only consolation that I can see right now in the haze of the aftermath is that maybe, just maybe, Mae finally sees the Trenton we’ve seen since the beginning.
I hope Mae sees the blessing in disguise sooner rather than later.
Despite our world crumbling around us, I feel that we’re on the same page for the first time in forever.
As I hit the call button, I reach across the table and find Mae’s fingers. She entwines them in mine, and together, we face the beast.
The beeps of a connecting call echo through the silent room. The band was sent to pack their things, and truthfully, I would have sent them away no matter what the choice was because they would not be able to keep their opinions to themselves.
“Hello?” Mr. Midland answers. “Ms. Davis, I’ve been expecting your call this morning. You’re on the line with Mr. Watkins…” Mae’s eyes of terror reach mine at the sound of Trenton’s manager’s name. Of course he stayed in Nashville, lazy ass. “We also have the company lawyer here.”
A deep hello meets my ears, and suddenly, my tactics are shaken. Mr. Midland clearly expected a call like this, perhaps he was even hoping for this. He’s always had a soft spot for Mae; I’m not going to pretend he wasn’t the real reason I was hired in the first place.
“Thank you for taking this call. I know I sent an email last night detailing the issues we ran into with both Mr. Travers and an unfortunate situation at the hotel.” I pause for input, but there is nothing but silence on the other end of the line so I forge on.
“After speaking with the band this morning, we have decided that the best action forward is to step away from the All the Miles Inbetween Tour. We have not made this decision light—”
The scraping of a chair on the other end of the line pauses my statement. “You cannot do this! This tour has been in the works for months. It is not conducive to a single headliner. Mr. Midland, this is a breach of contract!”
I wish I could be in the room watching Mr. Watkins’ meltdown, but hearing Mr. Midland’s admonishment will have to be enough.
“Mr. Watkins, I hear your concerns. It is not what the agreement stated. However, these accusations against your client have been brought up before, and we prefer to protect our signees.” This shuts up Trenton’s agent just long enough for a door to squeak open and then slam shut.
“It seems Mr. Watkins has elected to step out,” the same deep voice I assume to be the lawyer answers. “Is Ms. Evans in the room?”
“Yes, I’m here.” Mae scoots to the edge of her seat and folds her hands in her lap.
“I have this contract in front of me, and while there are a few monetary items we will need to discuss, the emotional turmoil you suffered last night will be enough for at least a leave of absence. You will need to report your well-being of course. A renegotiation can be had by all parties at a later date.”
Mae and I let out a simultaneous breath that has Mr. Midland chuckling. “Did you hear the man, Ms. Davis?”
“Yes, Mr. Midland, I did.”
“Will that be all, ladies?”
Shocked that it had been this easy, I only manage to cough out a “yes” in answer. The label chose her. I doubt she understands what that truly means.
With that, the call ends.
A shared breath escapes Mae’s and my lips.
With that, Mae smiles for the first time this morning. She nearly skips to the door to the hallway. “I’m going to tell the band, and maybe write a song.”
Thatta girl.
With the door cracked open, Mae turns to me briefly. “Thank you, Raleigh.” I never expect an expression of gratitude when I’ve only done my job, and rarely do I get one, but this morning I’ve earned it.
Mae has barely disappeared across the hall into Theresa’s room when her phone vibrates.
I suppose in the excitement she left it behind.
I try to ignore it but then it vibrates again and then again 10 times over.
I grit my teeth knowing that a certain someone has just found out about the tour and that he is not happy.
“Can I just have one moment of peace?” I ask the ether.
“Wow,” I hear from my left. The light from the hallway that briefly illuminated the dim room has been overcast with a shadow. “Didn’t know I was that much of a drain on you.”
Tracing the shadow up to the doorframe, I find Dalton leaning to the side, his muscular arms crossed at his chest.
“Not you,” I answer with a forced laugh.
Never you.