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“Okay, but you’ve never even heard Emma sing in person. Isn’t all of this attention a bit premature?” her mom insists.
“That’s why we’re here. We’d like you to play something, just to confirm it’s your voice in the videos. Just a guitar and your voice.” I turn to Emma, who turns pale with nervousness.
“Here in the living room?”
“Is that a problem, singing in front of people?” For a moment, Lilly comes to mind.
“No, I do it all the time, but I haven’t practiced anything. I didn’t think I’d have to.”
I smile at her, trying to calm her nerves. It’s thrilling to be offered a recording contract, but trying to prove your worth to a record company is nerve-wracking even for experienced musicians.
“Don’t worry. Go get your guitar and play whatever you’re comfortable with,” I encourage her as she gets up and runs out of the room.
I turn back to her parents. “I know this is scary. My mom would be reacting exactly like you, but you’ll know of all the decisions that Emma wants to share with you. And if you have any doubts, we’re here. Anything that seems confusing can be discussed. We’re not one of those record companies that leave their artists stranded on their own. Emma is important to us as a person even before she is an investment.”
The mother smiles but doesn’t have time to respond because Emma comes in with her guitar on her shoulder and sits on the couch.
“This is a new song I wrote, but I haven’t made a video for it yet.” She smiles, and I nod for her to start.
She lowers her eyes to the guitar and avoids raising them again. When the first notes fill the room, and her voice along with them, I glance at Evan, who smiles and shakes his head, placing his hand on his mouth. He seems baffled by our good fortune.
Emma is even better than her videos. Her angelic voice fills the room and stirs up all the emotions hidden in the heart. The lyrics of the love song she is singing feel personally dedicated to you, your life, and your feelings. She makes you believe every word, every breath, every vibration of her voice. When the strings stop vibrating on the last notes, Evan and I are holding our breath and I feel tears in my eyes. Perfect is the only word I can think of to describe this performance.
“If I can’t get you to sign this contract, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. Because sooner or later someone will make you a star. It’s not a question ofifbutwhen.” My voice comes out broken.
Emma looks down and smiles shyly. She squeezes the neck of the guitar with such force I’m afraid it will break. “Do you really think I have any chance of making it?” she asks in a faltering voice, almost a whisper.
“I think you have everything it takes to become one of the great artists of our time,” I say with conviction, and Evan nods enthusiastically. I look at him and ask, “What do you think?”
“That those videos don’t do you justice. I agree, we’d be crazy if we let an artist like you go.”
“What is it you’re offering her?” The mother brings us all back to the matter at hand.
I pull out the contract Evan has prepared. “Can I have your parents read it?” I ask Emma before handing it to her mother.
“Yes, of course. I don’t understand any of these things,” she says, almost relieved.
“I advise you to review the contract with a lawyer who can explain all the legal terms. If you have one of your own, we will cover the consultation costs, and if you don’t have one, we can get someone from New York.”
“No, we have a lawyer. His brother works in a law firm in Denver, but even if we call him now, he wouldn’t get here until tomorrow,” Daisy tells me as she studies the pages in front of her.
“No worries. Emma is high priority for us. Take all the time you need. We’ll be staying at the hotel here in town,” I tell her, standing up.
“Tonight I’m playing at a bar in a nearby town. If you want to come…it’s not like one of the clubs in New York, but it’s fun,” the girl shyly proposes.
“We can’t wait to hear you live. Send me a text with the address of the place—the number’s on the papers I gave you.”
We say goodbye and walk back to the car. There is no trace of the sheriff, and I’m relieved because we have plenty of time to drive slowly and talk about the performance we just witnessed.
“What do you think?” He doesn’t look at me; he’s focused on driving.
“That we have the new Taylor Swift. If we let her slip away, we’ll regret it forever.”
I feel the pressure to get her to sign that contract. If I were a snake like Anthony Flores, I’d use all my available ammunition to get her, even the most unethical. But I’m not like him. I saw the genuine fear of those parents at the prospect of something that could completely change their daughter’s life. For better, but also worse, her newfound freedom in a city like New York might lead her to spiral out of control.
“Do you think I can convince her parents to sign? She’s not signing if they say no.”
“I think it’s just a matter of how much Emma wants to pursue this career. I get the feeling they want their daughter’s happiness, so if we assure them she won’t be left to struggle on her own, I’m sure they’ll do what will make her happy.”
