Only it seriously doesn’t.
MARCO
It’s still sitting on my desk. I have no intention of looking through it. Why would I? I’m just going to see my drunken self staggering back through the building late at night and lifting two valuable guitars off the wall. Did I honestly think I wouldn’t get caught? How drunk was I? Okay, so I know the answer to that – no-sense-of-judgement drunk. What an idiot.
Betsy leans her head around the doorway. ‘Where’s the new girl?’
I don’t want to think about the new girl. Not after last night. ‘Lunch,’ I say snappily. Hoping Betsy will disappear, I don’t look up, but I can tell she’s going nowhere, just loitering in the doorway looking for answers.
‘And?’ I say.
‘Last night, did King know anything about our little Miss Golden Vocal Cords?’
‘No. He was impressed, though.’
Betsy laughs. ‘That doesn’t get us any further. And the new girl, she’s gone through all the original auditions? The unlogged pile?’
‘Yup.’ Betsy is beginning to irritate me. ‘You can always check them yourself if you fancy.’
She gives me a sour smile. ‘Not really my job.’
‘No,’ I say. I’m actually convinced that Betsy’s job is purely to irritate me. ‘Besides, both Terry and Jeff swear they can’t remember auditioning the mystery woman and they say, with a voice like that, they would have remembered.’
‘And you?’ Betsy asks, her eyes narrowing. ‘Would you have remembered?’
I’m guessing this is some kind of dig. Most people know I was pretty paralytic by the time the auditions were winding to a close. Adele could have come into the audition and I would have forgotten all about it. It was that bad.
‘Sorry, Betsy,’ I say, keeping my voice steady. Going for the moral high ground. ‘What are you trying to get at here?’
She sighs, moving into my office. ‘This company used to have a bit of a…’ She hesitates. ‘Reputation.’
‘The best label in the country. I know.’
‘Actually.’ She draws her arms up, folding them in front of her. ‘That’s not what I meant. I meant the other thing.’ She lowers her voice and leans in. ‘Your father.’
‘You do know he’s dead, right?’
She purses her lips, a hard look deepening her already granite features. ‘Don’t get clever with me, Marco. Women were offered… Let’s call it advancements or incentives. They were offered things in return for their…’ she lowers her voice and leans in towards me, ‘…favours.’
She has seriously lost me now. ‘You’re going to have to just spit it out.’
Betsy steps forward, leaning her upper body across my desk. The woman is built like a bulldog. I have no idea what she’s up to, but I sure as hell don’t like it.
‘How about if you carried out your own auditions? Snuck back up here with some young hopeful. Recorded it. Meant to get rid of the recording, but…’
‘Seriously?’ This is total utter BS. But I can’t help myself. I feel my face flush with anger. ‘I’m not my father,’ I say, my voice laced with irritation.
‘Well, that’s for sure.’ Betsy pulls back.
‘You can’t…’ I get to my feet.
‘Hi, guys.’ It’s Fitz. It’s about the first time in my life I’ve ever been overjoyed to see her. ‘Oh,’ she says cheekily. ‘This looks serious. Is it shareholder stuff? Should we be in the meeting room?’ She glances towards the room we normally use.
‘Hey, Fitz,’ I manage, with a lightness I am not feeling. ‘I didn’t know you were coming in.’
‘Just.’ She waves her hands in the air. ‘You know, passing by. I thought you might be out to lunch.’
‘Working,’ I say, holding up the remains of a sandwich.
