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“Agreed. Enjoy your night, Madison.”
“You too.”
Madison left the office a few minutes later, surprised at how well that had gone, but Jack was easygoing like that. It was one of the reasons they’d worked so well together over the years.
Madison found her driver waiting for her downstairs, butterflies coming to life in her stomach, knowing that she’d see Payton in just a few hours.
47
Payton tapped her pen against the page, already filled with a mind map. The question at the center of her journal page was ‘What should I do with my life?’
She looked up, sitting back against the couch in the middle of the coffee shop, the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans blending with the sweet scent of baked pastries and flavored syrups.
The front door occasionally chimed as a new customer entered, and nearly every rustic wooden table was full of either people working on their laptops or engaged in conversation.
Payton brought her mug to her lips, the warmth radiating through the ceramic as she took a sip.
She’d applied for a few odd jobs this past week, but she didn’t want to get into another situation that felt as temporary as all of her other jobs had. She’d never really stopped to think what she wanted to do with her life, and being six months ahead in her rent gave her the time to think about what her next move was going to be.
Payton scanned the page on her lap, her eyes lingering on the business degree that she had. She also had her love for theater, and she did live in New York. That might be a path to go down.
She hadn’t expected to figure her life out in one journaling session, but it felt good to write it all down and maybe in the next few days something from this page might jump out at her as the right path to take.
As she glanced at her watch, she knew she should get going soon. She wanted to get home and take a shower before she went over to Madison’s tonight. They were supposed to be going out for dinner, but Madison suggested coming over instead in a text she’d sent just a few minutes ago, saying that she’d cooked.
Payton had smiled as she’d read that text. It still didn’t seem real, that Madison had shown up at her door like that on Monday, and that nothing had changed during the week. They’d texted every single day, and Payton would be heading over to her place in just a few hours.
As Payton closed her journal and slid the elastic band into place, she caught the conversation going on behind her. She wasn’t one to eavesdrop, but she couldn’t help it. The two women weren’t exactly speaking in hushed tones.
“The wedding is tomorrow!” The woman sounded defeated.
The other woman spoke now. “I know, but it’s not your fault your singer was in a car accident yesterday.”
“I know, but I don’t know what to do. She insists that she’ll be fine. That she can take less pain meds during the ceremony, and that she can stay seated. What am I supposed to say to that? I don’t have a backup plan, but I can’t ask her to do that. I don’t know how I can get married without music.”
Payton opened up her journal again and wrote down her name and phone number as well as Ashley’s name, underlining it twice before ripping out the page. She slid the journal into her bag and slung the strap over her shoulder as she got up.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” Payton said, coming around to stand beside the table behind her, both women looking up at her. “I represent a very talented singer song writer. She does all kinds of events, but her specialty is weddings. I’m actually all out of business cards right now,” Payton improvised. “But my name’s Payton, and I’d like to give you my number and my client’s name. Look her up. There’s plenty of videos of her performing live online. She also happens to be free tomorrow. Call me if you’d like to book her. I’m sorry about your situation,” Payton added, her heart racing in her chest. “Anyway, I’ll let your two get back to your coffees.”
And with that Payton left the piece of paper on the table between them before turning to leave, adrenaline pumping through her veins.
She was barely in the door of her apartment when her phone rang. The woman wanted to book Ashley, and when she asked for a price, Payton held her breath.
She had a vague memory of Ashley mentioning prices a year or two ago, about weddings paying better than her gigs in bars. The figure popped into Payton’s head, and before she could overthink it, she doubled it.
Payton waited for the woman to say something, and she was about to defend the price, ready to say that it was a last-minute booking, but she didn’t have to. The woman agreed. She asked Payton for Ashley’s number to see if she could meet her tonight to discuss songs.
Payton gave it to her and as soon as she hung up, she called Ashley’s name, hoping she was in her bedroom.
“Ashley!”
“Yeah?” Ashley came out from the bedroom, her hair tied up in a bun.
“Your phone’s going to ring in a minute. Just go with it. I got you a wedding for tomorrow.”
“What? Are you my agent now?” she asked with a grin.
Payton smiled back at her, but it made her pause.
