“This could go one of two ways,” Grace said. “The press might latch onto this music as kind of a comeback. A rebirth of the Luca Sterling they knew.”
Luca blew out a breath. “Or they’ll be harder on me than ever and shoot this project down before it ever grows wings.”
“Exactly.” Grace gave him a sad smile. “That’s why I want to make sure you’re ready for this. Because once we put the wheels in motion—once your music gets out there—there’s nothing we can do to stop the train.”
“What do you suggest?” Luca asked her. “I’m sure you and Cash talked about it before you came here. What doyoubelieve I should do?”
“Well, I certainly didn’t come here for an engagement present.” Grace gave him a pointed stare that had her mother Ella written all over it.
Luca winced. “Grace, I’m sorry I didn’t call. Congratulations. Truly. I’m happy for you and Sam.”
She laughed. “I’m messing with you. But seriously, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think this was something worth pursuing.” She paused and leaned forward, running her fingers down Emilia’s back, her gaze fixed on Luca. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have faith in you.”
A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, his gaze falling to his lap.
“Thank you,” he said.
“But as my client, and more importantly, as my friend,” Grace said, “I have to prepare you for every possible outcome.”
Luca inhaled deeply before turning to me. “What do you think I should do?”
“Oh, um, I…” I trailed off for a moment. “Luca, I don’t know this business.”
“That may be true, but you knowme,” he said softly, his hand squeezing my knee. “And I care what you think.”
I swallowed hard as I considered his question. I didn’t know a lot about the music business or the media, but the look on my mom’s face Thursday night when she pulled up those articles about Luca was burned into my mind. She’d come around once I’d explained the truth, but most people weren’t like that. We lived in a world full of clickbait headlines—one where people weren’t afforded the ability to fuck up, least of all in the public eye. People made assumptions first and asked questions later, if they asked questions at all.
But Luca’s music, his story, deserved to be heard. And once people heard his songs, there’d be no way they could see him as anything less than the amazing man I’d come to know.
“McKenzie?” he said, his eyes searching mine.
“I believe in you,” I finally answered, reaching for his hand. “And I believe in your beautiful songs. So, do I think you should do it? Yes. But more importantly, I think youwantto do it. Ever since the idea became a possibility, there’s been this…lightin your eyes. You want this, and it’s okay to want it.”
He chewed his lip. “I do. I want this.”
I squeezed his fingers and turned to Grace. “What can we do to prevent the media from being dicks? How do we get them to give him a fair shake?”
“We’ll do a crash course in media training, and we’ll start small,” Grace replied.
Luca spoke up. “Cash mentioned the idea of me playing The Bluebird. I wouldn’t call that small.”
“As far as venues go, it is,” Grace said. “But it’s also prestigious. It shows the world you’re coming out swinging. That you’re a force to be reckoned with.”
I gave him an encouraging smile. “And you are.”
He studied my face for a moment and nodded.
Grace opened her binder and pulled out a few sheets of paper. “I have a management agreement right here. It’s pretty much identical to the one you signed with Cash back when you were in the band. There’s absolutely no pressure on my end. I can leave it here for you to look over and—”
“That won’t be necessary,” Luca said. “I’m ready to sign.”
Grace beamed and let out a high-pitched squeal. “Really? Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” he answered, looking over at me. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
He held my gaze, and for a moment, it seemed like he was talking about more than just his career decisions.
“Me either,” I said, releasing a contented sigh. “Me either.”
