And it wasn’t just Danny.
The producer arrived with three others in tow, a videographer and two lighting gaffers. The four of them were all loaded down with cameras, tripods, lights, cables.
As Danny followed his crew into the recording studio, Arthur told Connor, “I suppose it would be too much trouble to inform the guy whose house he just invaded.”
The Latina asked Connor, “Does the old man always register so high on the crankometer?”
Danny set down the camera, slipped the cables off his shoulder, and returned to the front room. “My aching back.”
“You didn’t mention bringing the circus act,” Arthur said.
“Apparently so,” the Latina said.
Danny greeted the ladies, said, “Why don’t you go get miked up while I have a word.” When the women went next door, Danny addressed the three men and Connor’s band, “You don’t need me to tell you the song is first rate.”
Connor told Ian, “Something tells me there’s a big ask hidden in that compliment.”
“You’re not as dumb as you look,” Arthur grumbled.
Danny went on. “We can run through a couple more takes of what you’ve already done. Work up a nice little video we can use as a feeder for the film’s release. Everybody goes home happy.”
Connor asked, “And the alternative is . . . ?”
“The story ends with them coming back together,” Danny said. “Sort of. The final scenes are a romantic cliffhanger. A lot of heat and possibilities and uncertainty. Myron and I went back and forth over the last melody.”
Connor asked, “And Myron is . . . ?”
“Myron Riles,” Danny replied. “Multiple Oscars, Emmys, the works. We never found exactly what we were after. So we went with what sounded, well, okay.”
Arthur demanded, “Why am I only hearing this now?”
“Do you want polite or the truth?”
“Polite will do just fine, thank you very much.”
“We didn’t want to trouble you with issues unrelated to the final cut.”
Arthur gave that a moment. “That will do, I suppose.”
Danny asked, “Would you be open to recording a second song?”
Connor asked, “And that is . . . ?”
“It hit me listening to your take,” Danny replied. “I think a new rendition of ‘Fever’ might just knock our film’s ending into next week.”
Arthur said, “Oh, well, now.”
All eyes turned to him.
Danny asked, “You like?”
“I actually have chills.” Arthur seemed to gather himself. “Of course, I might just be coming down with a fever of my own.”
* * *
Danny Byrd played director. It was a relatively new role for him, and his nerves were evident. Ian did not mind. Nor, apparently, did any of the others. Even Arthur set aside his irascible nature and calmly followed Danny’s cues.
Written by Eddie Cooley and Otis Blackwell, “Fever” was originally recorded by R & B artist Little Willie John in 1956. Since then, the song had been covered, or restructured and sung, by over a hundred recording artists, including such standouts as Peggy Lee, Ray Charles, Natalie Cole, Michael Bublé, and Beyoncé.
