Double dipping.
“Like I said,” she continues. “Three, maybe four months, depending on how the sessions go. The label’s already approved the budget. They want you.”
Through the window, Lily falls sideways out of her cartwheel attempt, laughing as Rye helps her up. They’re both grinning, and something in my chest tightens.
“I’ll do it as long as it’s here,” I tell her. “I’ve been working in a studio, so securing time won’t be an issue.”
“Darian . . ." She draws my name out. “You know this is where the magic happens. Musicians are a dime a dozen here. If you need someone, you can pick them up off the corner.”
“I take it you’ve never been to Nashville?”
“Can’t say that I have any clients there.”
“Better musicians here than LA,” I tell her.
“I’ll take your word for it,” she says, laughing. “When can you be here?”
“Can I think about it?”
There’s a pause on Laura’s end. “Since when do you need to think about opportunities like this?”
“Since things got complicated.”
“Ah.” Her tone shifts, and I can hear the smirk in it. “Found yourself a girlfriend?”
“Goodbye, Laura.”
“Wait. Look, I get that you hate me, and you have every right to. But don’t let that stop you from taking this. Rex specifically asked for you. He’s heard your work and wants that exact sound. The label’s offering serious money, and the exposure alone . . .”
“I know.” I watch as Lily runs toward the house, probably coming in for water. “When do they need an answer?”
“End of the week. But Darian? Don’t let this slip away because of your issues with me. This has nothing to do with Van or Reverend Sister or any of that mess. This is your shot.”
After she hangs up, I stand there holding my phone. This is the kind of opportunity I left LA for. Now they want me back, and this time it would actually mean something.
The back door slides open and Lily bounds in, cheeks flushed. “Darian! Did you see my cartwheel? I almost got it!”
“You’re getting better every time.”
She beams at me, then tilts her head. “Are we still having our guitar lesson tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
“Good, because I’ve been practicing that chord progression you showed me and I think I finally got the transition smooth.” She grabs a water bottle from the fridge. “Mom says if I keep improving, maybe she will have a kid evening at The Songbird.”
“That would be awesome,” I tell her.
Rye comes in behind her, grass in her hair and dirt on her knees. “Everything okay? You look serious.”
“Work call,” I say, not ready to explain everything with Lily here.
She nods, understanding immediately. “Lily, go wash up. You’re covered in grass.”
“But Mom?—”
“No buts. Go.”
Lily rolls her eyes but heads to the bathroom, leaving us alone in the kitchen. Rye pours herself a glass of water, waiting.
