The silence makes me fidget in my seat.
Fine, let’s talk about something else.
“What’s with all the black. Did someone die or something?” I hold his startled stare for a moment before moving my gaze away.
“Oh, it’s a tour thing. To ensure everyone blends in when it’s dark on stage. The last thing you want is someone wearing a bright shirt or white trainers walking on stage and ruining the suspense.” He reaches for another bit of chicken with his fork.
“They must all have a lot of black clothes then,” I say, picking up my lemonade. Maybe it will wash away the indigestion.
“Yeah, fifty shades of black,” he says, biting into the chicken.
“I heard you’re more a fifty shades of gray kinda guy.”
Alexander almost chokes on the chicken as Paul and Connie walk back through the patio door. He raises his right hand to flag them down as he grabs a napkin with his other hand and spits the chicken out into it.
“Have you two got a minute? I wanted to follow up on what we were discussing earlier before I go back in to continue recording.” I see a flicker of irritation cross his face.
“Sure, why don’t we head up to the control room, where it’s more private?” Paul says, looking at me coldly.
“Here’s fine.” Alexander points to the two empty chairs at the table.
“I can leave you all to it if you need,” I say, grabbing my plate and pushing my chair back.
“Stay,” Alexander says, gripping the back of my chair.
I get the feeling that neither Paul nor Connie like me, judging by the looks of disdain on their faces as they reluctantly draw the chairs back to sit down. Paul removes his glasses andplaces them on top of his iPad while Connie tucks her skirt under her legs.
I’ve always wanted people to like me. I’ve actively gone out of my way to do things to make people like me more, unless they piss me off like Rob did when we first met. But I have to remember what my therapist said:Ten percent of people will never like you no matter what you do.And maybe these two fall into that ten percent.
“Before you start,” Connie begins, “we’ve just spoken to the head of the label and we’re at number one in the midweeks withMy Anchor.”
“Congratulations,” I say, but the other three remain silent. Paul gives me a brief sideways glance and shakes his head. It reaffirms that my role here is to stay quiet. I lower my head and reach for my lemonade instead, silently telling myself to shut up.
“The issue is, it’s tight at the top, and the label wants to give it another push beyond the remix that they dropped Friday,” Connie adds.
“Get to the point…” Alexander says, pushing the cutlery together in his bowl and scowling.
“The label wants you to do some more promo tomorrow, before the show, to create enough of a gap to ensure you land the number one slot. They’ve got Radio One’sLive Loungeon hold, along with some big podcast interviews lined up.Chicken Shop Date,Table Manners, and one with that pop star Lily…” Connie looks up at the ceiling as if trying to pull the name from thin air.
“Allen. Lily Allen,” I offer, when the silence goes on a beat too long.
“Yes. That’s the one.” She nods at me before returning her gaze to Alexander. “I need to go back to them in the next few minutes to lock it all in.”
Alexander’s finger circles the rim of his glass, clockwise then counterclockwise, seemingly weighing the decision.
“What do you think?” he says, turning his ocean-blue eyes to me.
“Er….” My gaze drifts from him over to Paul and then Connie.
Whatever I say here, I’m going to put my foot in it.
Connie and Paul have measured expressions, but I can feel their frustration at Alexander batting the decision to me.
If I side with Alexander and tell him not to do it, both of them will hate me. They will label me another Yoko Ono, as if I’m trying to get into all his affairs. But if I side with Connie and Paul, then I’ve ignored what Alexander told me about no one looking out for what he really needs. My heart beats rapidly against my rib cage.
It’s a lose-lose situation.
I take another sip of lemonade to draw out my response, working out how to be Switzerland in this discussion.
