Chapter Twenty-One Eleanor
Fiona leads me down the hall to a dressing room where Sheridan and Curtis are waiting.
Sheridan is perched on top of the Formica counter that spans the entire length of the room, with the mirrored wall to her back.
Curtis stands right at her side, but when he sees me walk in he squeezes her hand. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Sher shoots him a grateful smile and waits until Curtis closes the door behind him before flicking her gaze over to me.
“Hey. Thanks for sticking around.”
“No problem.” I glance to the side—the room is pretty much empty, aside from a couple of tote bags stuffed into one corner. A few chairs are tucked in at the counter, and I tug one out to sit in, trying not to feel weird that it positions me several inches lower than Sheridan. “How are you?”
Sheridan shrugs, slow and exaggerated. “I’ve had better days.”
She grabs a can of Diet Coke that’s sitting next to her and takes a sip, then presses her thumb into the can. The dent releases with a pop.
“Freddie has decided he won’t sign with an indie label,” she says, and even though I saw it coming a mile away, the sting of rejection still hits me square in the chest.
“Yeah,” I manage. “I figured.”
“I love my brother, but…” She shakes her head and gestures toward the door. “I fucking hate whoever that guy is. His whole persona.”
Hard to argue that, after the display I witnessed out there. Still: “A lot of bands go through rough patches. It’s a tough transition, going from unknown artists to a group with a large fan base. Comes with a lot of pressure—”
Again, Sheridan shakes her head. “It’s been a problem from day one.
I don’t know if it’s because he’s older than me, or maybe it’s just because he’s got a dick and I don’t, but I’ve always come second.
I’ve always been referred to as the female lead singer of Dempsey, while he somehow gets to be the front man.
When we’ve disagreed on album decisions, I’ve always ended up deferring to Freddie, because it’s obvious that’s what the rest of our team wanted.
At least, at the label. Curtis and Ralph are a bit more diplomatic, to be fair. ”
I may not be in the public eye the way Sheridan is, but I do know a thing or two about having to sacrifice control over your public perception in order to make it in the music industry. And about allowing men to dictate the terms of your own career.
“I really wanted to give you more control,” I tell her, almost as a condolence.
She sets her Coke can back down. “I know. Which is why I’d still really love the chance to work together.”
My confusion must be written all over my face, because Sheridan smiles.
“Did you mean what you said back at the brewery? About taking me on as a solo artist?”
“Uh… yeah.” My brows are just about at my hairline. “Yes. Absolutely. If that was something you wanted to pursue, then I’d definitely be interested.”
My thoughts scatter in a million directions—how I’ll pitch this to Josie, how Sher’s PR team will have to break the news of Dempsey’s split, and when to reveal she’s going solo. What her album would sound like and how I could leverage her existing fan base.
All of which is getting ahead of myself.
“Is the solo track something you want to do in addition to Dempsey, or—”
“No. I can’t be part of this band anymore.
And I know that if I want to have any kind of relationship with Freddie down the line, it’s for the best. We’ll kill each other.
” She pushes herself off the counter, and I stand too.
“Besides, Ralph wants to start a family. He’s talked about taking a step back.
Curtis said he’d play backup on my album if I needed him to.
” She gives a nonchalant shrug, but I get the sense Curtis would follow her off a cliff if she asked.
While a part of me is sad that one of my favorite bands is breaking up, I have to admit this is the best possible outcome from that situation. As long as I can hold up my end of the deal.
“Full disclosure,” I say, willing myself not to seem flustered.
“I’ll need to get the head of the label’s approval before I can officially offer a contract.
I’ve… lost some of my sway with her this past year.
And as you know, launching a solo career is a different animal than promoting an established band. ”
A tiny crease forms between Sheridan’s eyebrows, but she nods seriously. “I understand. You’ll keep me posted?”
“Absolutely.”
With a parting handshake and a promise to reach out as soon as I’ve spoken to Josie, I make my way through the maze of hallways backstage, moving on autopilot until I find an exit.
Someone calls my name almost the moment I step outside.
I look up to find Adam, and have to suppress a smile at the idea that he was standing here, watching the door like a hawk waiting for me. Now that intense gaze is roaming over me, and I must still look a bit shell-shocked, because he’s wearing a frown.
“Hey,” I say as I make my way over to him. “You waited.”
“Of course.” He shrugs. “Talked to Billy, while you were in there. I, uh… cut ties with him. Professionally speaking. He’s still a friend, but… I realized I needed that separation.”
“Oh, wow.” I’m too stunned to say anything more for a moment. Admittedly, I’m pleased with this development. But that almost feels sort of mean? It was the smart thing for Adam to do, but I can’t imagine it was easy. “You okay?”
He nods. “Yeah. Had to be done.” He waves his hand, as if to wave the subject away. “What happened with Sheridan?”
I glance around. The venue isn’t in the heart of the Strip or anything, but there are still a fair amount of people milling about. The last thing I need is some kid to overhear me talking about Dempsey and start live streaming it. “Let’s get a cab.”
We head down the block to hail a taxi, and a few minutes later we’re en route back to my hotel.
“It would seem Dempsey is breaking up,” I tell him. “And Sheridan Dempsey is going solo.”
Adam’s eyebrows rise. “No shit.”
I nod. Glance out the side window, then back to Adam. “She wants to sign with me.”
“No shit,” he repeats, this time with a great big grin on his face.
I laugh. “Yeah. I think she really likes the idea of being with a female-led label.”
Adam tips his head. “I think she really likes the idea of working with you.” Then his expression turns a bit more serious. “Do you think it’ll satisfy Josie?”
That is the million-dollar question. “I hope so. I told her I’d check in with her after the show, actually.”
“Okay. You want to practice what you’re going to say?”
I grin and tip my head onto Adam’s shoulder.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had this—someone I could lean on and come to for help with my work or whatever else I’m struggling with.
That’s my own fault. Iris has been there.
Josie has told me her door is always open.
I was just too stubborn and proud to take them up on the offer.
I’m going to do things differently from now on. “Yeah. That would be great.”
I make Adam wait in the hall while I call Josie, too nervous to allow him to eavesdrop but too infatuated to send him any farther away.
Alone in the room, I take a moment to silently freak out before dialing.
I hate myself for putting this off for as long as I did, because Adam was right—it would’ve helped my case to show her I was open to her suggestions.
And considering she has ten years of experience on me and has probably seen plenty of bands on the verge of breaking up, if I’d told her about the tension in the group when I first caught wind of it, she likely would have come up with a better strategy than showing up to the brewery uninvited and asking them to please pick me.
But Adam is almost as good at giving pep talks as Iris, and I know what I’m going to say.
I hit the call button and as soon as she picks up, I blurt out: “I’m sorry it took me so long to touch base.”
“Better late than never,” Josie says, and her voice is wry, but I know it likely did irritate her to have to wait.
“Things have been very hectic out here. To make a long story short, it looks like Dempsey is breaking up, and Sheridan Dempsey is going solo. I’d love to hear your input on signing her.”
Understandably, Josie takes a beat to process this. “That… is not the update I anticipated. Have you already pitched her?”
“She approached me, actually. I told her I was interested, but that I’d need to speak with you.
” I lick my lips, and continue before Josie has a chance to cut in.
“Listen, Josie… I know my performance this past year has left a lot to be desired.” I’ve started pacing around the room, and I stop in front of the window.
The Strip sprawls out below me, showy and artificial.
“I know I have some bad habits I need to break, but I really, really love this job. I love working for you.”
Josie sighs on the other end of the line. “I’ve loved having you on my team as well, Eleanor.”
My stomach plummets. Past tense.
“I have to say, your lack of communication on this trip hasn’t exactly reassured me that you’re willing to implement my feedback.”
“I know,” I say quickly. “I know that. But I am willing—I’m more than willing to work on my approach. It just… took me a minute to understand what you meant when you said I needed to be a team player.”
Because most of what I know about the music industry, Griffin taught me.
He taught me to play by my own rules, and I buried my head in the sand and ignored Josie’s advice for so long because Griffin also taught me it’s dangerous to put too much trust in someone else.
For years I’ve been afraid of failing, and equally afraid to ask for help.
It’s infuriating, after all this time, still to be confronting ways that relationship fucked with my mindset. But I see it now, which means I can change it.
“I meant that I need you to come to me when you aren’t sure how to handle something.”
“Yes,” I say, nodding vigorously even though she can’t see me.
“And to trust that the policies I put in place are there for good reason.”
“I do,” I tell her. “I do trust you.”
A long, deep breath fills the silence. “Come to my office first thing on Monday. We’ll draw up the offer for Sheridan together.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and pull the phone away from my mouth as I flail around for a second, totally exhilarated. “I’ll do that,” I tell her, sounding a bit breathless. “See you Monday.”
I hang up and blow out a shaky breath, then grin down at my phone for another moment before spinning on my heel and heading for the door.
Adam is right there when I open it, sitting on the carpeted floor right next to my room. He lowers his own phone and lifts his brows. “How’d it go?”
“We have some things to hash out on Monday, but… I still have a job. And she’s green-lit my offer for Sheridan.”
He breaks into an eye-crinkling grin and pushes to his feet, drawing me into a hug as soon as I’m within reach. “That’s awesome.”
I sink into his chest, pressing my face into the hollow of his throat and inhaling that woodsy scent I’ve already grown so fond of.
“I’m so happy for you,” he says with his chin propped on top of my head.
“Thank you,” I mumble into his chest.
I pull back and push the door open wider, wordlessly inviting him back inside.
I heave a great big sigh of relief and collapse onto the bed, then reach with grabby hands for Adam to join me. He kicks off those ridiculous boat shoes and climbs on, propping himself up on one elbow.
“When we get back to LA, I want to take you out to celebrate.”
“Well, I did agree to dinner.”
He smirks and rolls on top of me. “Maybe I want to take you to the botanical gardens first.”
“Hmm,” I manage, distracted by the feeling of his stubble against my neck.
“I want to take you to dinner, and the movies, and the zoo, and the beach, and a million other places. I want more than one date.”
“I don’t know if I mentioned, my sister is getting married in a couple weeks.”
Adam pecks my cheek, then pushes himself back to gaze down at me. I run my hands up his arms, gripping his biceps. “Yeah, I think I remember something about that.”
“So you probably recall that I don’t have a date.”
“What about Iris’s dog?”
“Oh yeah, she will fully be a third wheel. So you want to go with me?”
Adam shifts his weight so he can grab my left hand, lacing our fingers together above my head. He dips down to kiss me, soft and slow, and when his answer comes, it’s in a whisper against my lips:
“I do.”