In the quiet confines of the car, I make a decision. One that will change my life for the better, because once the tour is over, I’m quitting. I know it won’t be easy and that I’ll no doubt have obligations to fulfill, but I can’t do this anymore. The constant pressure to perform, even when I’m doing something as mundane as grocery shopping, was never what I wanted. The young girl who moved to Nashville only ever wanted to write and sing her own songs. That hasn’t changed. But I don’t need to do that in an arena in front of ten thousand fans.
I’d be quite happy doing that in front of one man.
A wave of emotion, something I can’t quite name but feels a lot like a cocktail of anger and resentment, washes over me. I swallow it down, refusing to show Penelope how much her going back on our agreement has hurt me. I’m certain she’d only find enjoyment in it. I hate that I wouldn’t be where I am without her or that I feel some semblance of loyalty to her because of that. If I didn’t, I’d have fired her long ago for the way she treats me.
We pull up to a small airstrip, and a sleek private plane is waiting on the tarmac for us. A man approaches the back of the car as we come to a stop at the bottom of the steps. Penelope climbs out, striding toward the plane before turning to give me a stern look.
I scramble out of the car and follow her. Not because I’m ready, but because it’s easier than standing on the tarmac and admitting that maybe I’m making one of the biggest mistakes of my life.
I’ve barely boarded when the door is shut behind us. The flight attendant leans around me, pointing to the array of seats in the main cabin. “If you’ll just take a seat, Miss Blake, we’ll be in the air momentarily.”
It’s only when I really look around the small cabin that I notice a man in one corner, dressed in a suit with a laptop open in front of him. My immediate thought is, why is he here, and who is he? His hair is slicked back, and he’s talking in hushed tones to his screen. When I take a seat across the aisle from him, he looks up, a relieved smile on his face before returning to his call.
This is it.
The life I thought I wanted.
The life that doesn’t feel like mine anymore.
I settle back into my seat, kicking off my shoes and pulling my knees up to my chest. My vision blurs at the edges, but the seat belt digging into my hips grounds me in a reality I don’t want.
The safety announcements play out, but I’m not really paying attention to them. My focus is on the mountains beyond the window, the ones I won’t get to see again for a very long time. Unless I figure out a way out of this life, one that doesn’t disappoint my fans but also doesn’t break me down like it did before I left.
We’re in the air for no more than thirty minutes when the man closes his laptop and leans across the space between us. He holds out his hand and says, “Will Houghton. Artist Relations and Business Manager for ENG Records. It’s nice to finally meet you, Avery. We were getting worried we’d have to cancel the tour.”
Instinctively, I slide my hand into his. “It’s nice to meet you, but I wouldn’t ever let my fans down like that.”
Releasing my hand, Will nods like he knows me. “Of course, forgive me. But it was a concern, nonetheless.” He winks at me before continuing, “Besides, I’m sure two hundred and fifty thousand dollars is a drop in the ocean for you, but to some it’s a hefty penalty to pay.”
A groove forms between my brows. “I’m sorry. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars? I thought it was millions?”
Will’s head rears back like I’ve hit him before he chuckles nervously. “Don’t be giving us ideas. I’m not sure where you’d get that number from, but I’ve personally never seen a contract with a penalty that large.”
My body goes cold, and my stomach drops. I look over at Penelope as she talks to the flight attendant. Why would she have told me that we would be on the hook for so much more money?
Like a light being flicked on, it dawns on me: she lied to me. My mouth goes dry, nausea swirling in the base of my throat as the cabin jolts. Rage flickers beneath the surface. Why would she do this?
“Will?” I ask, my eyes still fixed on Penelope.
“Hmm?”
I lick my lips nervously, turning my attention to him. “If I were to come back to Nashville next week, how much would I have to pay ENG Records?”
Confusion cloaks his features. “Nothing.”
I inhale before slowly blowing out the breath. “Nothing would need to be cancelled that would mean I’d be on the hook for anything?”
“No. I mean, sure, you have studio time booked, but I’m sure the label would fill the slot with another talent.” He pauses, his attention shifting to Penelope before returning to me. “Avery, are you telling me that we wasted a trip and you’re going back to Montana?”
I’m terrified of what comes next, but more than that, I’m terrified of waking up a year from now and being left with nothing. So, I nod. It’s all I can manage. Maybe I was running when I left Coldwater and Grayson twelve years ago, but I’m not running now. I’m taking back my life, but more importantly, I’m done letting other people control it. Especially Penelope.
“Oh.” Will looks a little shocked but composes himself quickly. “Let’s talk to Pen?—”
“No. I want to wait until we land, then I’ll talk to her in private. Maybe you can get the ball rolling on whatever it is that needs to happen next with a plan for me to return to Nashville next week instead? It’s really important to me to go ahead with the tour, but I have things I need to take care of back in Montana.”
He nods in agreement, opening his laptop and getting to work while I sit back and pray for this flight to be over. My body is trembling, a mix of excitement and relief rushing through me.
33
