Chapter 13 Hunter #2
“No. I’ve made sure the media folks understand what they can and cannot ask.” Madeleine grinned, showing her perfect teeth. “Everyone’s scared of me, which is how I like it.”
Ivy laughed. “I’m glad you’re on our side.”
“I like to think I’m always on the right side,” Madeleine said. “But that’s not always been the case. Anyway, I’m going to run you through some questions she’ll most likely ask. Just so you feel prepared.”
“Shoot,” I said. “I’m ready.”
“She’ll want to know about your break from music and Nashville. Tell her the truth. You needed a change after a difficult event in your personal life.”
“Okay, yeah. I can do that.”
“I’m pretty sure she’ll ask about your collaboration with Ivy, both past and current.
Tell your story about how you met and all that.
People love to hear the background on how songs come to be.
And this is a music show, so you can geek out as much as you want.
I think people would love to hear about the new song. Why you wanted Ivy to record it.”
“That’s easy enough. About Dana—what do I say if she asks me about her book and the insinuation that I cheated?” I asked.
“She won’t. She understands the boundaries.
” Madeleine scrolled again, her nails clicking on the trackpad.
“But I told it was okay to ask you about Seraphina. In fact, I want you to talk about it. Remember, you have nothing to hide. You’ve met someone special who happens to be a famous author.
You’d hoped for privacy, but someone invaded it and sold the photos to the tabloids.
You don’t have be whiny about it, but you should talk about how difficult it was for both of you to have something so private revealed without your permission.
Maybe emphasize that you and Seraphina are writers and not used to the spotlight. ”
“All right. That seems simple enough,” I said.
“I’ve already prepped her about Ivy’s big announcement about leaving her label,” Madeleine said.
“Since Ivy’s interview went live already, it won’t be new information.
So use it as a way to talk about Ivy and how proud you are of her for taking back her power.
And I want you to make sure and say how you work through things in life through your music.
You could even say something like, ‘If you want to know who I am, it’s all in the songs.
’ That way we kind of grease the wheel about the cheating accusation.
People will immediately want to listen to the latest song.
And they’ll get exactly what it means. Also, and this is important.
You’ll need to talk about your mother. How she left when you were ten.
And your dad’s tendency to work too much.
How you came to be so close with Wes and Margaret.
Again, they’ll find it in the song and know it’s about your mother, then Dana. Does that makes sense?”
“I think so.” God, I hated this. But this was for Ivy. I owed her this. She had to get through this as still America’s country sweetheart. If I had to bare my soul, so be it. But that didn’t mean I was going to like it.
The crew took forty-five minutes to set up. While they did so, Madeleine informed me that I would need makeup.
“I don’t think so,” I said.
“Trust me. You’ll regret it if you go in there looking like that.” Madeleine made a dismissive gesture with her hand.
“Fine,” I said, grumbling. I couldn’t wait for this to be over.
The makeup artist was a young woman named Nadia.
She assessed my face with narrowed eyes, then tipped my chin up, tilting her head one way and then the other.
“Good bone structure. But you need moisturizer. I have some suggestions. I’ll write them down for you.
And you’ve got to start wearing sunscreen. You’re obviously outside a lot.”
“I run on the beach,” he said.
“I can tell.” She opened a professional case with more compartments than I’d thought there were products for. She selected a setting powder in a shade that matched my skin tone exactly. Nice trick. She stoked a fluffy brush across my face. I fought the urge to giggle.
“Tickles,” I said.
She smiled, picking up a smaller brush and a tube of concealer. “Yeah?” She swept it under my eyes.
“What’s that for?” I asked.
“This just takes the purple out.”
“Purple?”
“Under your eyes. From lack of sleep, mostly. Stress too. Or some people are just born with dark circles.”
Apparently I had dark circles under my eyes. Who knew?
She stepped back and looked at me, clearly focused on her task. “Just a little pink for your cheeks, and that should do it.” She used yet another brush to spread blush along the cheekbones.
“Done,” she said. “You look good. I took at least ten years off you.”
Had I needed ten years erased from my face? Regardless, I thanked her.
Madeleine stepped into the kitchen. “They’re ready for you.”
I got up from the chair and followed her into the living room where they had the cameras set up. Claire Ainsley was already seated, but she got up to introduce herself. “I’m a big fan,” Claire said. “It’s an honor to meet you.”
“You too. Love your show,” I said.
Claire Ainsley was smaller than I’d expected and fresh-faced, with big brown eyes that looked directly into mine. I instinctively felt like I was in good hands.
They fastened the mic on me. Nadia appeared with yet another round of powder. Then, the cameras started rolling. Claire started by asking about my early Nashville years with what felt like genuine interest.
I spoke about the lean years and how I just kept plugging away, hoping for a break.
“And you finally got one,” Claire said. “Tell me about that.”
“I wrote a song for Ivy James that went straight to number one,” I said. “After that, things took off for me.”
“Sixty-one songs in the top twenty. That’s an extraordinary catalog.”
“I’ve been lucky.”
“I’d venture to say there was a lot of hard work and talent behind your success.”
“That’s kind of you.”
“You’ve been spending time out of Nashville. Was there a specific reason for that?”
“My marriage ended. I needed some time away from the noise. So I headed out to stay with some good friends. Try to find myself again.”
“Is it true that you’ve been working as a bartender?”
I smiled, shrugging with one shoulder. “I’ve had a writing slump. Thought it might help me find something to write about.”
“And has it?”
“In a way, yes. But mostly it’s kept me busy while I sort through personal stuff. Nobody here knew who I was. I was just the guy behind the bar at the local watering hole, instead of a guy hustling songs.”
“Is that how you think of Nashville? As a hustle?”
“It’s other things too, but yes. You’re only as relevant as your latest song. I was pretty tired when I left.”
“Have you found what you were looking for?”
I hesitated, unsure how to answer. But I remembered what Madeleine had advised. Talk about Seraphina. “It’s been good for me, yes. Reminded me that not everything is about music.”
“What do you mean?”
“I grew up in Nashville. My dad was a studio session guitarist.”
“Ray Sloan. Famous in Nashville circles, right?”
“Yeah. He played on a lot of albums back in the eighties and nineties. If you wanted the best, you asked for Ray.”
“What about your mother? Was she a musician as well?”
“No. The Nashville life wasn’t for her. She left my dad when I was ten. I rarely saw her after that.”
“As someone who’s studied your songs, I’ve found themes of abandonment in many of them. Is that because of your mother?”
“I’d say so, yeah. And my dad worked more than he was home. I was kind of a lonely kid. In a lot of ways, I still feel like that lost boy.”
“Do you think songwriters often have a central theme in their work?”
“Maybe. Depends on the songwriter, I guess.”
“When you first started out, did you want to be a performer as well as a writer?”
I shook my head. “No, that never interested me. I’m a behind-the-scenes kind of guy.”
“Ivy James speaks highly of you. In fact, she credits your songs for her career. Can you tell us about your collaboration?”
I reiterated the same story Ivy had told in her interview.
How we met. The spilled drink. My song that impressed her.
“We’ve just always had a vibe together. When we work together, it’s almost like magic.
We’ve written some good songs together, and I’m sure they’ll be more. She’s made some of my songs big hits.”
“She’s been a big part of your life.”
“That’s right.”
“You’re not someone who gives interviews. I’ve tried to get you on here for years, but you’ve never agreed to it. Why now?”
“There have been things said in the press about Ivy and me, which I wanted to refute. Ivy James is not a woman who would ever do something outside of her moral code.”
“Which means?” Claire asked.
“She’s not a woman who would sleep with someone else’s husband. I can guarantee you that. Nor do we have that kind of relationship. She’s family. A sister.”
“There’s also been photos leaked of you and the romance author, Seraphina Sinclair. Is there anything you’d like to say about that?”
“First, it was an invasion of privacy. Whoever took those photos and sold them to the gossip rags should be ashamed of themselves. Seraphina’s a private person. As am I. To have an intimate moment captured in photos that were shared without our consent left us both feeling violated.”
“I can understand that. New relationships should have a chance to breathe without scrutiny. I’ve had a lot of guests on here who have talked about how hard it is to be in a relationship that’s so public.”
“Yeah, it’s not about the music then. On the other hand, we bare our souls in our songs.
That’s the difference between something that resonates with people or doesn’t.
Authenticity. Writing about the human experience in ways that are both specific and universal are the keys to a good song.
If you want to know about a songwriter’s personal life, I’d suggest listening to their music. The stories are all there.”
Now that we had all of that out of the way, Claire moved on to a discussion about music and songwriting. I relaxed and, I’m shocked to admit, started to have fun. Before I knew it, we were done.
The crew moved around the room, packing up for the day. Lights were taken down, cables coiled, and equipment loaded back into the van.
Claire shook my hand, smiling. “You did well. Madeleine told me to stay away from your ex-wife’s insinuations, but I think it’s good you addressed them.”
“I did it for Ivy,” I said. “She doesn’t deserve to be labeled as a homewrecker. Especially since it’s all lies.”
“It’s a great interview. Enough of the personal stuff to shut people up and then a real discussion about music. We’ll do a little editing and clean-up. I’ll play it tonight on my podcast.”
“I can’t thank you enough,” I said.
“Call anytime. I’d love to have you on the show after Ivy’s new album releases.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said.
“That’s all I can ask.” She gestured toward the van. “I’m going to head out so I can get this on air tonight. And Hunter, thanks for the music. Your songs have gotten me through some hard times. You might not realize about how much your music means to people, but it does.”
“That’s kind of you to say. Thank you.”
Madeleine appeared at my elbow. “Good job. You feeling okay?”
“It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”
“Great. Let’s hope this helps Ivy’s reputation.”
“That’s why I did it.”
She patted my shoulder. “I know. You’re a peach.”
Peach? I’d always thought of myself more like a prickly pear, but I appreciated the sentiment.
“I’ve got to head to L.A.,” Madeleine said. “But you call me if you need anything.”
I thanked her and waited until she got in her rental car before grabbing my phone to call Seraphina. Suddenly, all I wanted was to hear her voice. There was no question in my mind. I was in love with Seraphina Sinclair, God help us both.