I go straight to Google and begin searching for the agent who worked with Dylan Knox on his acting career, to see if it was anyone I know. When I see one name in particular come up on my screen, I break into a wide grin.
I set my alarm for 5:55A.M., 5:57A.M., 6A.M., 6:03A.M., and 6:05A.M.
I reach The Lark café in Soho at quarter past seven.
I lean against a brick wall and enjoy my flat white in the early morning sunshine, scrolling through social media to make sure I didn’t miss any breaking celebrity news overnight.
At half past seven, I spot Shamari walking toward The Lark, her eyes fixed on her phone as she types. Smiling at her promptness, I put my phone away and wait for her to emerge from the café with her coffee in hand.
“Shamari!” I say, bounding up to her and making her jump.
“Harper,” she gasps, stopping in her tracks. “You gave me a heart attack!”
“We have got to stop bumping into each other like this. Are you stalking me?”
A smile creeps across her lips. “In twenty minutes, I have a meeting with a particularly difficult, rude, and currently very pissed-off actor who’s just been dropped from a project and will be taking his frustration out on me, so you had better get to the part where you tell me what you want, pronto. I need to get to my desk and prepare myself for the torrent of abuse that’s coming my way.”
“Why was the actor dropped from the project?”
She brushes my question aside with a wave of her hand. “Creative differences.”
“I love that phrase. Do you ever get to tell anyone the truth about why an actor is dropped from a film?” I ask, falling into step with her as she speed walks to her office.
“No,” she replies. “Now, come on. Who are you after this time?”
“Dylan Knox.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Of Artistry? You’re barking up the wrong tree, Harper.”
“You represented him during his short-lived acting career.”
“A lifetime ago.”
“Not that long ago,” I reason. “Bet you can still contact him and I’ll also bet that he’s a big fan of yours.”
“Why would you think that?” she asks curiously.
“Becauseeveryoneis a big fan of yours. Even the actor who’s going to yell at you this morning.”
She breaks into a reluctant smile. “You really live by the phrase ‘flattery gets you everywhere,’ don’t you?”
“Is it getting me somewhere in this instance?”
She gives me a look. “We’ll see. Why do you want to speak to him?”
“You know why. The reunion tour that never was. I want to know what happened and whether there might be a chance of fixing it.”
She stops and turns to me in disbelief. “You think you might be able to talk to Dylan Knox and persuade him to reunite Artistry for a reunion tour? You’re good, Harper, but no one is that good.”
“Now, haven’t you ever heard the expression ‘You won’t know until you try’?”
“What makes you think that Artistry might be persuaded by a journalist of all people?”
I shrug. “Because a journalist is very good with words. And words are powerful, Shamari. Anyway, I’m not saying that my goal is to get a world-famous band back together—I simply want to interview him. See if there’s any hope.”
“I thought you didn’t go in for gossip.”
“Look,maybeit’s none of my business why the tour is suddenly off the table,butperhaps if they talked about what wentwrong, they might iron out their issues. It always helps to talk to someone. I want that someone to be me.”
