“I’ve been reading about the music industry, learning about contracts and royalties and all that stuff. I wanted to be ready to help you when this moment came. And it’s here now.” I don’t tell him that I’ve actually been reading about being a manager in the music industry for the last couple of years. He doesn’t need to know how long I’ve been preparing for this.
He takes a shaky breath. “I’m still scared.”
“That’s okay. Being scared means this matters to you. But don’t let fear make your decisions for you.” I lean closer to him. “These labels wouldn’t be reaching out if they didn’t believe in your talent. Trust them. Trust yourself. And trust me. Together, we can beat your anxiety.”
He nods slowly, and I can see some of the tension leave his shoulders.
“What if we start small?” I suggest. “We don’t have to sign with anyone right away. We can take the Zoom meetings, learn what each label has to offer, and then make an informed decision. No pressure, no rushing. Just information gathering.”
“You’d come to the meetings with me?”
“Of course. That’s what managers do. I’ll even do all the talking.”
He lets out a long breath. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s… let’s see what they have to say.”
I grin at him. “There’s my rock star.”
He rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling now. “I’m not a rock star yet.”
“No,” I agree, “but you will be. And I’ll be right there cheering you on from the wings.”
For the first time since I showed him those emails, he looks hopeful instead of terrified. “Thank you, Cricket. For everything. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out.”
CHAPTER 10
MicahBarrett
Tuesday, November 24
Cricket comesinto the family room in her parents’ basement and twirls in front of me, her skirt flaring out. She’s wearing a floral blouse and a white skirt that looked fine on her before, but now I’m worried it’s far too short for her date with River. I point to the skirt. “You’re going in that?”
Her eyes widen as she looks down at her clothes. “What’s wrong with it?”
I don’t want to sound like a grandpa, so I make something up. “What if you spill food on it? Or sit on something? White is such a bad color to wear on a date.”
She nods, her face reflecting what a horror it would be to get a stain on her white skirt. “You’re totally right. I didn’t think about that. I’ll go change.”
She comes back in an even shorter jean skirt and tank top. Where did she even get these clothes? I never see herwear skimpy anything. I try not to snarl at her. “Isn’t it cold today?”
She shakes her head. “Nope, it’s warmed up again. It’s in the seventies.”
“Where is he taking you, again?”
She shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “I told him to surprise me.”
“What if you feel overdressed? Don’t you think your normal T-shirt and jeans would be better?”
She frowns as she looks down at herself again. “No, I think this is better. Is my outfit that terrible?”
Great. I have no more excuses. I sigh. “No. It’s good,” I admit.
She grins at me and grabs a small purse. “Thanks.”
I hold out my hand for her glasses because they’re dirty again. She instinctively knows what I want and leans down so I can slide them off her face.
“No seagulls here,” I mutter as I clean them then put them back on her face.
