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“You driving yourself to the airport?”
“I’ve got an Uber coming. The driver should be here in twenty minutes or so.”
“Cancel it. I’ll drive you. We can talk on the way.”
“Really, Ox? There’s no rush. I can see you next week.”
“No. What I have to say can’t wait. The wine people will liquor you up, and I want to make my offer first.” Ox picks up my suitcase and we head for his Mercedes parked outside.
“Offer? What kind of an offer, Ox?”
“Job offer.” He tucks me into the supple black leather in the front seat of his coupe, and we curl into the slow-crawling traffic. “I’m getting a band together,” he begins.
“Really?” I am all ears. Inner Fangirl is using Inner Analyst’s notepad.
“Well, notClimax.Their day is done. But I got an idea on Connor’s birthday. It was nice just doing the acoustic thing. We were making some wicked harmonies. You’ve got a good ear.”
“Thanks.” I am waiting for him to get the part where he makes me an offer. My mind is reeling at what it could possibly be.
“I want you to be our manager,” he says, turning onto the interstate.
“What? Me?” Inner Fangirl has just spiraled into orbit while Inner Analyst takes notes. This has something to do with Connor, she can just feel it.
“Yes. You’re perfect. I want you to arrange gigs, run the marketing, do all the PR for the band. I want to keep it local to start — just stuff in the Southeast for now. See how we do. I can offer you a decent starting salary, nothing extravagant, but it’ll keep you in lattes. Oh, and twenty percent of the band’s take. Industry standard is thirty, but I honestly don’t know how well we’ll do right out of the chute. And we want your input on music, too.”
“Ox, I … I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll think about it while you’re in California.” I watch him negotiate Atlanta traffic and I know he’s serious about this. “I mean really think about it. This is a totally legit offer. I’ve already talked it over with a couple of the other guys in the band."
“Who’s in the band?” I ask dubiously. Inner Analyst sits back in her chair, her glasses hanging on the tip of her nose in anticipation.
“Well, Sam Slade for starters. And another buddy of mine, Memphis, who will be good on guitar. I want you to sit in on some sessions with us, too. I found this killer instrument called an electric cello. Can you imagine? Your stroking that thing would be bad as fuck!”
“Sam Slade and Ox Carr start a band. That’s like the perfect rocker love child, Ox. You’re going to take the music scene by storm. You’ll educate a whole new generation of music lovers on what real rock and roll sounds like.”
“See, you’re already writing ad copy,” Ox says. His round Santa laugh fills the car.
“And what about Connor?” I ask quietly.
“What about him?”
“What is he going to say about all of this?”
“Does that really matter? Besides, he has enough on his plate right now selling all the restaurants.”
“What? He’s selling all his restaurants?”
“Yep. He’s going to hold on to theJourney’s End— just going to be a silent partner. His buddy, Lincoln, is going to run it. He’ll do a good job.”
“Why?”
“Well, with me starting up the band and Tori’s time invested in her new fashion venture, he’d be managing them all on his own, and that’s just too much. He’s got something new he’s looking to get going.”
“You have to let him know. I won’t let it affect my decision, but I want to know what he thinks about my working for you. I don’t want to cause any problems with your family.”
“Workingwithus, Lainey. You’ll be working with us.”
I give him a hard stare in reply.
“OK, I’ll talk to him. But this is your choice.”
I hug him goodbye at the airport, and board my plane. I sit back in my seat and my mind starts immediately daydreaming about managing a band. Not just any band, a band headlining Ox Carr and Sam Slade. Inner Fan Girl is starstruck. Inner Sex Goddess is drooling. Miss Insecurity paces — again. My Inner Analyst takes copious notes while The Maestro tries to imagine what an electric cello and acoustic guitar duet would sound like. Miss Adventure is raising a glass to toast them all. Me? I’m smiling. For the first time in weeks, I’m smiling.
