She’d reached out to Thomas to express a fervent interest as soon as she’d heard.
Even though it still wasn’t yet public knowledge who would be on the album, the buzz had worked its way through town. Especially given that Copper Canyon was producing it, she’d been able to verify all of the information that came her way.
And the information was: she wasn’t asked to participate.
So,yes, she was aware.
Thomas lightly drummed his fingertips on the table. “How would you feel about being featured for a song?”
Shock shot through her, and she snapped to attention. The dread and trepidation washed away, replaced with awed delight. “Really? I mean – I thought it had already been recorded?”
In fact, she knew it had been because she’d kept careful tabs on it. The album was going to drop in November, so everythinghad been recorded over the summer. Given that it was now October, it was really late in the game.
“It was.Is,” Thomas corrected himself. “It is already recorded. But the powers that be want one more song on it, now. Hence the locale today.”
He gestured around as the small conference room they sat in, located on one of the top floors of the label. Thomas did love symbolism.
“I’m in. You know I’m in.” It was rare that her genuine excitement bubbled over when she was in the same room as Thomas or Harrison, but the odds were shot today, apparently.
She wondered if she had any choice in the song. Frankly, she didn’t care; she’d do anything. She needed to get out of here and back home, start working over her arrangement; she assumed it would have to be recorded as soon as possible, to be appropriately mastered along with the others.
She shook her head, drawing a hand through her hair. Without meaning to, she darted her eyes toward Harrison.
Which was a huge mistake.
Because Harrison looked far too satisfied. And she’d long learned that Harrison didn’t take satisfaction in her happiness.
She dragged her gaze back to Thomas, her hands falling back into her lap.
Thomas tilted his head. “I’m glad you’re excited. There’s just one caveat.”
Of course there were strings. There were always strings.
Juliet kept her chin jutted out, though, refusing to let herself deflate. She’d do just about anything to be on Shelby’s album. Literally, anything.
Did they want her and Robbie to get publicly engaged to drum up publicity? She’d been side-stepping that for years, but for this opportunity? She could probably make it work.
“What is it?”
She wracked her brain, trying to figure out what could be big enough to put a damper on this. The way Thomas was acting, it had to be something he knew she wouldn’t like.
“They want you to record ‘Porchlight,’” he began.
And just like that, this beacon was glowing even brighter.
“Porchlight” was inarguably one of Shelby’s best songs. An angry, heartbroken powerhouse ballad about a woman leaving her porchlight on every night for her husband, only to discover his infidelity. A true country anthem. Adreamto be able to re-record.
She did her best to tamp down the thrill that bounded through her, but she was basically already salivating over this.
Thomas continued, “As a duet – with Darcy Kincaid.”
Just like that, two freight trains simultaneously slammed into her, the excitement being pummeled with insult.
“Darcy?” The name fell from her lips like acid. Which was exactly what it felt like in the back of her throat. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I didn’t come up with this plan, Juliet,” Thomas said in his patronizing voice – the one that made her twitch – with a shrug. “And I knew you weren’t going to like it.”
She could think of very few things she would like less! “Is thereany–”
