“I guess,” she said, changing the subject before Kim could fire back. “How’s everything with Vegas?”
“I thought he’d be pissed. You know, with me staying on, but he’s, like, the nicest person ever invented.” Her voice flipped back into work mode. “Look, Sebastien doesn’t know yet, but I rescheduled Cary’s interview for tomorrow afternoon. If he doesn’t get on that flight, I’m getting fired.”
“Okay, I’ll make sure he’s on it,” she conceded. “Butonlyfor you. We still don’t have any bands on tour. Did I tell you? I’m trying to get Yestown on the awards show broadcast?”
“Ew. Why?”
“They asked me to.”
An hour later, Tyler arrived at the office and called her contacts in Toronto to see if Yestown could land a performance slot at the upcoming music awards. She usually ignored what industry insiders dismissed as the “Mickey Mouse” awards, but with the event being held in the band’s hometown of Saskatoon, she felt obligated to push for it.
She’d struck out with her first few calls so Allie was next on her list.
Allie picked up her phone on the first ring. “I was just about to call you!” she shouted over noise in the background.
“Where are you?” Tyler asked.
“Winnipeg. Hold on, I’ll go somewhere quieter.” Her boots stomped away from the bustle in the room. “There,” she said, out of breath. “I’m at the Voyager Festival.”
“The Festival du Voyageur?”
“Yeah, that. I’ve got a band playing here.”
“How is it?”
“I like it here, man. Lots of cool shit, nice people.”
Tyler pulled up their artists’ calendars on her computer. “Sebastien has one of his legacy acts there. Brad’s band, in fact.”
Jamespoke had some notoriety in the nineties but didn’t become a festival draw until a popular American act covered one of their songs. After that, Brad—the lead singer and resident Captain Jerk—changed the song splits in his favor, ensuring he earned more in royalties than his co-writers—a dick move by anyone’s standards.
Allie let out a laugh. “I’m well aware Brad’s here.”
“What do you mean?”
Tyler doubted Allie gave a shit about Jamespoke or any of the guys in the band. Their hospitality rider had two items: whiskey and coke—and not the bubbly kind that comes in a can.
“Are you ready for this?” Allie’s voice became giddy. “They playedallnew material last night.”
“No!” Tyler shrieked.
As a legacy act, the festival hired the band to perform their back catalog—their old songs, the hits—not the new ones people didn’t know or care about.
“Fuck, yes.” Allie laughed. “Not one popular tune in their set.”
“Not even—”
“Nope. Not even their number-one song. I’m not going to lie, man, it pissed people off.”
“Jamespoke,” Tyler said with a heavy breath. “Is Tommy still their agent?”
“Totally.” A thud came from the other end and a curse word followed. “I dropped my phone. Just hearing his name ruins my day, man. You called for a reason?”
Tyler had almost forgotten the purpose of her call. “Any chance you can get Yestown on the awards’ live broadcast?”
“Are you punishing them for something?”
“No, it’s their hometown. They’re from Saskatoon.”
