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“Let me see it.”
I pull up the video from Whiskey Cowboy and hold my phone out, buoyed.
Fiona watches the clip for about twenty seconds, then hands it back with a shake of her head. “Keep looking.”
I open my mouth. Close it. Open it again. “They’re good.”
“I’m not looking for good. I’m looking for electric. Not everyone can make it in this industry, Piper. That band is cute, but I’m betting they practice in a barn and never miss church on Sundays. Nothing wrong with that. Nothing I can work with either. Nothing I cansell. You’ll learn to spot the true talent. Not every frog you find will turn into a prince after you kiss it.”
“Sorry about that.” Carl strolls back into his office, settling back down at his desk. “The Jason Martin news broke.”
“No problem,” Fiona replies. “It gave me and Piper a chance to get to know each other better. I can already tell she’ll be an amazing addition to the department, but I’ve got to get to a meeting. We’ll talk soon, Piper.”
I nod, having to force the cheer in my voice. “Sounds good.”
Fiona walks out, leaving me and Carl alone.
I clear my throat awkwardly. “Thank you again. I really appreciate the new opportunity.”
“You’re welcome.” He’s staring at me with a speculative expression. “How is Kyle?”
I pass awkward and veer into extremely uncomfortable.
For some reason, I thought leaving Oak Grove would be like flipping a page. Reverting or returning to a life that Kyle Spencer has no place in.
He’s no longer an artist here. He’s just a guy who lives in Texas.
“He’s, um, he seems fine.”
Carl waits expectantly.
“There’s a ranch—a dairy farm, I guess—where he lives. Lots of cows. Cute town.” I stop talking, realizing he doesn’t care about any of that. “I know you’re focused on the label from a business perspective. But I think, for Kyle, leaving was the right decision.”
“Hmm.” Carl’s expression doesn’t change, giving me no indication of what he’s thinking.
Possibly, it’s that the praises he sang weren’t deserved. I was supposed to convince Kyle to come back to music, and here I am, saying he shouldn’t.
His phone rings, startling me.
Carl studies me for another second, then reaches for it. “That’ll be all, Piper.”
I nod, then quickly walk out of his office.
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
KYLE
Bailey’s grandmother brings her to the ranch exactly at ten, which is the time we agreed on when Piper and I dropped Bailey off at her grandparents’ last week.
Part of me was expecting for that plan to fall through. For Bailey to change her mind about coming over again. For her grandparents to change their minds about allowing her to.
But Bailey’s grandmother waves merrily, accepts Mabel’s offer of homemade strawberry jam, and then drives off after promising to pick Bailey up after lunch.
“Where’s Piper?” is the first thing Bailey asks after greeting me.
Mabel slants a glance my way. I ignore it.
My aunt has been her typical tight-lipped self since returning from California, only asking a few questions about what they might have missed while they were gone. Observing the changes to the ranch.
