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“I have no idea. I tried to call Nina but she’s in court today. So I think we just have to go ahead and assume Billy’s not going to alter his course. Theo’s waiting to hear about logistics for getting all of Erroneous’s shit here in time.”
“And Zach’s just screwed.” Leah rubbed her chest, trying to chase away the sick sensation lingering there. It didn’t work.
“I’ll offer him another slot—I can’t bump any of the main acts, but we could squeeze him in on another stage. But I don’t think he’ll take it. He wants a main-stage, big-excitement gig to launch his solo stuff. Low key won’t cut it. If I had to guess, he’ll look for another big show somewhere.”
“Which means he’ll be leaving.” Leah tried to sound normal about it. She didn’t entirely succeed. Her throat was suddenly too dry and her voice squeaked.
Faith’s expression turned sympathetic. “You need to finish recording first. You’ve got time.”
Time for what exactly? Convincing Zach to stay? To give it all up for her? That seemed as unlikely as Billy changing his mind. She tried to smile. “I always knew this was short term.”
That didn’t chase the sympathy off Faith’s face. “You could try telling him how you feel,” she said.
“Who says I feel something?” Denial. It was a long shot but worth a try.
“I’ve known you since we were babies, Leah. I’ve seen you with him these last few weeks. You’re happy. Very happy. And not just ‘I’ve got a crush’ kind of happy.”
“You really think me telling Zach that I was dumb enough to let myself—” She stopped, not wanting to say the word out loud. That made it real. Would only make it harder when the time came. “I mean, you really think some sort of big declaration would make a difference? This is Zach we’re talking about. Something tells me that’s more likely to make him run away even faster.”
Faith winced. Which meant she didn’t really have a counter-argument. “Okay. I won’t butt in. I’m here if you need me, though.”
Leah smiled at that. “I know.”
“So what exactly are you saying, Jay?” Zach stared down at the phone on the kitchen table in frustration. He wished he could see his manager’s face, but Jay was in a car somewhere in L.A. on the way to the airport to go to New York for another client. So far, this morning’s conference call wasn’t proving any less frustrating than yesterday. “Are they pulling the deal?”
“No.” Jay’s voice was thin through the phone’s speaker. “But I have to be honest with you, Zach. Without the whole CloudFest, Blacklight, going-back-to-your-roots thing, I got the feeling their enthusiasm was way down.”
Fucking perfect. Without a big label really wanting to push him and give him the kind of promo he wanted—that would be hard to achieve on his own—he was all kinds of screwed. The deal Jay had been chasing was one with the focus on the marketing side. He had enough money to record but he didn’t have the reach that a huge label’s marketing machine could get him.
“And what would it take to get their enthusiasm back up?” he asked.
“At this point, I’m not sure. You need something flashy. Something to catch their attention. If you’ve got any favors to pull in, I’d go asking. See what you can come up with. Otherwise—Harper or not—you’re just going to be another act to them. And we’re not going to get the same deal.”
That was clear enough. Prove he could bring something to the table or else. He asked Jay a few more questions then ended the call. It was nearly midday. He needed to get to the studio. Leah was already there, finishing up with Nessa. The rest of the guys would be there at one. He’d broken the news yesterday that there would be no CloudFest gig and managed to convince them all to stay regardless to work with him on the rest of the album. It hadn’t been easy. Pete, the drummer, had been ready to bail, to go looking for another gig. But this was one area where Zach’s money could do some good and the guy had agreed to stay when Zach had offered more cash. They’d have to see how it worked out in the long run.
He bent to pick up the messenger bag with his laptop and other crap in it, shoved the phone into one of the pockets, and looked around. Had he forgotten anything? He couldn’t think. Sleep had been hard to come by last night, he’d been so mad. Leah had come over, and the worried look in her eyes had only made him feel worse. He’d taken her to bed and they’d indulged in some mutual distraction for a while, but he’d lain awake for a long time after she’d fallen asleep curled up against him. But other than his guitar, he didn’t think he’d missed anything. So. Time to suck it up and go over to the studio and rehearse like he was just fine with the crap Billy had pulled.
Be an adult.
When for once, he could entirely see the appeal Grey had found in alcohol. Anything to calm the storm in his head so he could think.
His hand clenched around the strap of the messenger bag. No booze. He was better than that.
Still, he couldn’t quite make himself walk to the front door and get in the damn truck.
While he was standing there, telling himself to just do it, someone banged on the front door.
Who the hell was coming to see him? It had to be someone he knew or the gate guard would’ve called up. Leah wouldn’t knock. Neither would Faith or Mina. Eli hadn’t answered his calls yesterday, so God only knew where he was. Probably with his dick of a dad.
He stalked down toward the door, ready to tell whoever it was to go the hell away. But when he pulled it open, he found Billy on the other side, and the curses on his lips changed to a whole other level of angry.
“What the fu?—”
“Save it.” Billy said harshly before Zach could complete the sentence. “You’re pissed at me. Fine. I don’t blame you.”
“Then what the hell are you doing on my doorstep?” Zach said. “Not a smart move. You have about ten seconds to leave.”
“You gonna call security on me?” Billy didn’t look worried.
