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Cooper Davies is getting under my skin. I don’t like it.
“Sorry,” I say, falling back into my desk chair.
A wicked smile starts to play on Fiona’s lips, and I don’t like that either.
“He’s getting to you, isn’t he?” She wags a knowing finger at me.
“No. He’s not.”
“Yes, he is. I’ve never seen you so out of sorts in the years I’ve known you. It looks to me like you may have just met your match with this particular rockstar, and the session hasn’t even started yet. You guys are in trouble.”
“Well, you’re not wrong there. He has met his match. I’m not falling for the rockstar bullshit, which won’t be a problem since I give him two weeks tops. After that, Mr. Murderous Crows will fly the coop, mark my words.”
Fiona’s evil smile is back. “Okay…words, marked.”
* * *
After Fiona leaves my office, I call my friend and Chairman of the Board of the Rhapsody Foundation, Barry Sparks. He answers with his usual genteel southern drawl.
“Sloane darling, to what do I owe the honor of hearing your glorious voice?”
“Barry, sweetheart, you’re killing me here.” I purr right back at him, leaning into the sarcasm. Conversations with Barry are always fun. “I have a feeling you know exactly why I’m calling.”
His slight chuckle on the other end tells me that’s true. We’ve known each other too long.
“Don’t tell me the resident bad boy is already up to no good. Classes haven’t even started yet. And I bet Georgie it would be at least two weeks before it imploded.”
I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see me. “Interesting, I had the same timeline in mind. But no, nothing yet. My question is, why him? And why now? And why the hell didn’t you tell me?” If anything, that last question is what hurts the most. Barry and I go way back, ever since he was my original producer years ago. He knows how much this program means to me, especially as a former artist myself. I thought we trusted each other. He is one of the few people I trust in the music industry.
“Oh, you know how it is in this town. We are all distilled down to back scratchers at the end of the day.” His voice is apologetic. “My old friend Eliza at Blackmore asked us to do this, and who knows, there may be something we need from Blackmore someday.”
I sigh, shoulders slumping. The entanglements of the industry never change. “I am well aware of how things work, but I usually have a say in who teaches here.” I do my best to keep the hurt out of my voice. “My toes are feeling a little bruised.”
“There was absolutely nothing nefarious in the arrangement, I promise. And I thought a high-profile name like Cooper’s could actually help us with funding. That’s all, I swear. It wasn’t personal.”
I know he’s telling the truth. We share the same passion for nurturing young talent. He is just as committed to the Rhapsody Foundation as I am and wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the program.
“And you didn’t tell me because…?” I understand the situation, but I’m not letting him get out of this conversation without answering that question. I thought we had better communication than this.
“How much pacing of the floor and yelling have you done to poor Fiona since you heard the news, hmm?” he asks.
Damn it. He knows me too well.
“That’s beside the point, Barry. You really need to talk to me about stuff like this.”
“I promise to consult you on all future placements that drop in my lap, okay? I’m sorry, songbird. Consider it a one-time slip.”
The old nickname makes me smile. “Apology accepted, maestro. Fine. I guess I’ll deal with it. So what is your bet with Georgie?” I’m curious what he would wager with his husband on something like this. “Tell me it’s something good, at least.”
“Nothing drastic. Just breakfast in bed.”
“That’s it? Your bets are usually higher stakes. You’re slipping in your old age, Barry.”
“Oh, no, honey. It’s breakfast in bed in Paris.”
“Touché.”
four
