When we reach the safe house, Harper’s concerned she won’t be able to sleep without her things. I know we can’t go back for them, but I feel awkward asking the guys at Heartline for helpgiven it’s not a security-related issue. Instead, I give Garrett a call, and he swings by her rental to pick them up along with the groceries we left behind.
Garrett’s dad ran a security agency for years—he helped me land this job. Garrett knows how to handle himself in a serious situation. He also knows how to keep things private and avoid being followed.
Harper’s sipping tea in the small kitchen area when he shows up. I grab two beers from the fridge, and the three of us sit down to chat for a while.
“Chase mentioned you own a record label?” She dips her tea bag a few times.
“That’s right.”
“Any big names I would know?”
He chuckles, then he glances at me, and I nod to let him know it’s OK.
“Ever heard of The Lost Souls?”
Her eyes grow wide. “Wow, seriously?”
“Mm-hmm. You know Chase’s sister, Lexie, is their guitarist?”
“What?” She spins toward me, blinking. “Is your whole freaking family famous?”
I shrug.
She shakes her head. “What about you, Chase? I suppose next you’re gonna tell me you’re secretly a rockstar yourself?”
I stiffen. I know she’s teasing, but Garrett looks to me, and I shake my head slightly to signal for him to let it drop. She doesn’t need to know.
“Hold on. Are you?” Her brow furrows. She’s too perceptive.
“Nah.” I hop up to grab a plate from the cupboard, then arrange some crackers and cheese for us to munch on.
Thankfully, Garrett changes the subject. “Chase tells me your management’s running you ragged?”
“Yeah. This new company took over last year”—she sighs—“and I don’t like how things have changed. They insist they know what’s best for the brand, and they tell me to stick to the music.” She glances at me, and I nod. “I wish I had more say in how things were run, though. That’s how it used to be.”
Garrett leans back in his chair. “How’s the ownership set up? Do you own your brand?”
“Yes, it’s mine.”
“OK, then. You’re in charge. You call the shots.”
“Right. I just—I don’t really understand the business side, but I’ve been thinking I should learn more about it.” She tips her head. “Maybe then I could figure out a better situation for myself and my team.”
He sips his beer, then rests it back on the table. “Good management should be looking out for you. Protecting your needs. Making sure you have the time and energy stores to stay healthy and perform at your best.”
She chuckles. “Yeah, that’s not…happening.”
“That’s what I gather. What are they like on creative control?”
She shrugs a shoulder. “On the music, that’s mine. That’s how my mom set it up originally, and I own legal control on that side. They’ve been careful to give me the leeway I need there. But with the shows and the schedule—a lot of it, they try to micromanage, and it’s too much.”
He nods. “They should be working hard to make the brand fityourvision. Creating something you can feel proud of. You’re the artist,” he tells her. “Without your creative energy, none of this exists. If you’re exhausted, the whole system breaks down. It’s not sustainable, no matter what some suit tries to tell you.”
Garrett knows his stuff. I’m glad she’s talking with him. He’s honest and ethical. One of the few people who’s been on both sides of the equation.
“Wow, any chance you manage pop stars?” she jokes, and he smiles.
“Not yet.” He says it in a friendly way, as though he’s offering, and she nods slowly.
