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“No,” Jimmy said stubbornly. “I’m going to donate it. Take some of my good luck and, you know, pay it forward.”
Making a face, Rowena set her purse down and joined him in clearing out the closet. “You’re hopeless. You’re way too sweet to be a mafia boyfriend.”
“Yeah, yeah… Hey, wait!” Jimmy exclaimed when Rowena’s indiscriminate trashing had reached a faded black T-shirt. “No, not that one.”
Rowena stared at the ragged old AC/DC shirt. “Are you serious?”
“It’s sentimental.” Jimmy grabbed it back.
“Aw, your dad’s?”
“Mom’s actually.” Jimmy chuckled. “It’s from the Razors Edge Tour. She was a huge fan. She dragged my dad all the way to Paris to see them on their honeymoon. She always used to joke that it was the night I was conceived.”
“Aw, that’s so cute.” Rowena smiled, continuing to indiscriminately pillage Jimmy’s old clothing and throw them aside.
“Yeah.” Jimmy laughed as he hung the precious shirt back up. “Most people were like, wow, Paris for your honeymoon? How romantic! Not my mom. Paris, pffft. She only wanted to go there to rock out with AC/DC.”
Rowena’s smile took a softer turn. “Mom was a little bit of a groupie, huh?”
“Well, let’s just say there’s a good chance that Brian Johnson might be my real father.”
Rowena laughed, chucking the last of the clothing that failed to pass her standards into the pile on the floor. “Need to cash in on that, you know. Oh, maybe that’s where you got those pipes from!”
“Hey, maybe. Wouldn’t mind some of that rock star money.”
“Speaking of those beautiful pipes!” Rowena twirled around to retrieve her giant purse. “It’s paperwork time, sweetie.”
“Right,” Jimmy said dutifully, leading Rowena to his kitchen table to start filling out the forms. She used her cell phone to scan his identification and helped him fill everything out. The last form left was the contract.
“Now.” Rowena tapped her nails across the paper. “I can’t say that this is as exciting as your, ahem, current arrangement with my brother. But it’s more than fair. Twenty-five hundred a night, two nights a week guaranteed. I wanted more, but Roddy wouldn’t let me. He, cough cough, wants to keep your evenings open.”
Jimmy was dumbfounded. “That’s… that’s five grand a week.”
“Yeah, for two nights of singing pretty. Plus, weekly rehearsals. You need to get up with Dario and work some shit out.” Rowena ran her fingers through her hair and then switched to full business mode as she said, “Your first set was good. Keepin’ it nice with the classics, but new stuff with a jazzy twist? Mama likes. Figure out some three to five song sets. I’ll give you wiggle room with modern stuff as long as you change up the feel.”
“Got it.”
“I’ll give you all of this week to practice with Dario and figure out your wheelhouse of tunes, but I want you back on stage by Friday. That’s Roddy’s birthday. We’re having a party at the club, and uh, duh, you’re going to sing for him.”
Jimmy gulped.
“Any questions?”
“Not… at the moment?”
Reaching into her magical purse, Rowena pulled out a check and passed it over. “For last night. Now remember. As an independent contractor, you’re responsible for keeping some moolah aside to pay your own taxes. Blah, blah, blah. Got it?”
“Got it. Yup.”
“Mm, I’m thinking Wednesdays and Fridays for you. I’m excited to see you sing again. But! Definitely wanna make sure you and Dario have time to work your sets out. I’ll text you his number. See if he can meet you at the club tomorrow afternoon.”
“Okay.” Jimmy nodded. “Got it.”
Five grand a week.
He was still stunned. It wasn’t quite fulfilling his dream of working at a prestigious law firm helping those in need, but it was a hell of a paycheck. He could get all of his stuff out of Maury’s shop, put money in his father’s commissary account, and try to find a new lawyer. He could get his life back on track no matter how this deal with Cold ended.
“Now!” Rowena stashed the papers away. “All work and no play makes Rowena a very, very bored girl.” She grinned wickedly. “Unless you already pawned it, there’s a blender here, and it’s time to party.”
