CHAPTER 16
It’s damn good to be Hunter Kane these days,he thought with a goofy-as-shit grin plastered to his face.
It had been more than twenty-four hours since he’d last helped Mackenzie, twenty-four hours since he’d kissed her as he headed out to meet with the label, and he could still taste her on his lips. He’d been so punch-drunk he’d had a hard time focusing on the negotiations at hand.
“Un-fucking-believable,” Paul said, enough hero worship in his tone that he had Brody rolling his eyes. “They walked in here ready to dump our asses, and in one conversation, you convinced them to send us on a world tour.”
It had taken more than one conversation. In fact, the negotiations had begun early the previous morning in Brody’s office and lasted well into the night. Hunter had undergone a long succession of tedious meetings, beginning with the tour sponsors and ending with Lionel Drake, the head of the label.
The sponsors had anted up enough dough to add additional cities to the Hunter Kane Band’s upcoming tour. More important, Lionel was on board with the band’s new direction. It had taken a lot of convincingon Hunter’s part, but the second Lionel had heard the new tracks, the man had been sold.
The problem with labels was that it was a hurry-up-and-wait kind of relationship—where the label refused to do any of the waiting. They’d taken their sweet-ass time finalizing the tour schedule, using it as leverage to get Hunter into the studio. Now the label was finally on board and wanted the band to sign off on the dates before Lionel went back to LA the next morning.
Which was how Hunter found himself at Big Daddy’s during Tini Tuesday, sitting in a booth with his band and staring down a round ofmantinis. They’d specifically ordered a round of Lone Star, but since it was also guest-bartender night and Brody’s talented wife was in charge of the shakers, Brody accepted the round with a stupid-ass grin. The fucker.
Otherwise, Hunter would already be back at Mackenzie’s, helping her get ready for their date tonight. He’d seen the black strapless number hanging on the front of the closet when he left the previous morning, and he couldn’t wait to help her into it—then help her out of it. It was the single image that had kept him focused throughout all the posturing and positioning.
But if they didn’t speed things along, there wouldn’t be any show before the show. And Hunter enjoyed a little pre-party almost as much as he enjoyed an encore.
“A tour this size is a good sign that the label is finally ready to put the money behind us that we’ll need to hit the next level,” Quinn said, rubbing his fingers together in the universal sign forShow me the Benjamins.
“It’s also a huge commitment,” Brody pointed out.
“Jesus, man. You sound like my ex-girlfriend,” Quinn said. “I haven’t even lowered the zipper, and already you’re talking about commitments.”
“Because signing on that line is as binding as a paternity test, so I want to make sure you’re all aware of what you’re agreeing to,” Brody added.
“Are you shitting us?” Quinn asked, then looked at Hunter. “He’s shitting us, right?”
“I have no idea what he’s doing, but I think we should order him another princess drink.” Hunter held a hand up to flag down the bartender.
Brody held up a hand of his own. Only his was sporting a single finger. “I’m not saying don’t sign it. This is a huge opportunity. But it comes with a shit ton of appearances, most of them back-to-back.”
“It’s also a shit ton of money,” Quinn said. “We are signing the biggest deal of our career. What is there to think through?”
“Seventy-two cities, nine countries, and eleven months. That’s already triple the dates of your last tour,” Brody said to the group, but his eyes were focused on Hunter. “Then tack on the additional travel for the overseas shows, the radio tour for the album, and don’t forget the press tour.”
“If we want to stick to the timeline for the next album, we need to go all-in on this tour,” Quinn stated. “Dragging out the dates will only cut into the studio time.”
Jesus!They hadn’t even recordedthisalbum, and already he was feeling the pressure to deliver big on the next.
“Exactly my point. Working nonstop doesn’t give the downtime needed to start thinking about the next album.” Brody addressed Quinn, but his eyes met Hunter’s. A squirrelly feeling settled in Hunter’s chest just thinking of exactly what that kind of scheduling would entail. “We’re talking months at a time on the road, away from home. From people who count on you.”
Hunter knew how hard it was to make a relationship work when living in different time zones. At first the hype of the tour overshadows the time apart. But eventually the adrenaline wears off, the long nightsand missed phone calls get old, and that’s when everything starts to unravel.
He’d been torn when Hadley hadn’t wanted to start a family. Looking back, she’d been smart not to want to bring kids into that.
And now Hunter had Mackenzie to think about. He knew that this thing between them was strong. But it was also new.
Hunter looked at Paul. “He has a point. Have you thought about how Bethany will feel with you being away from home for long stretches like that? You’ve got one kid and one on the way.”
Paul and Quinn looked at him as if he’d grown a third testicle.
“Are you kidding? Bethany has been waiting for this moment as long as we have,” Paul said. “Will it be different? Sure, probably even difficult. Which is why we talked about the possibility of her joining us on the road when we started trying to get pregnant again.” Paul gave a casual wave, which was in direct opposition to how Hunter was suddenly feeling. “We hoped it would happen when the kids were small, so the timing couldn’t be more perfect.”
The dreamer in Hunter, who had been working toward this moment for more than a decade, couldn’t have agreed more. Unfortunately, the realist in him wasn’t so sure. His marriage hadn’t been able to withstand a four-month tour with only nineteen shows. Mackenzie had said she was all-in, but that didn’t include eleven months apart just when things were heating up.
Shit.
