Henri could try flattery and stroke the man’s ego, or tell the truth and risk losing his last hope. No way would he admitbecause you take on hopeless cases and give them fresh starts. “Because you’re the only manager I’ve talked to who didn’t advise me to lie, cheat, or steal my way back into my old band.”
“They were choking the life out of you and turning your talent to rubbish. Why would I tell you to go back?” Lucas leaned forward in his chair, staring eye to eye with Henri. “Those other managers are fools.”
Really? “Mr. Honeycutt? We’re gonna get along fine.”
“I’ll warn you upfront: I won’t tell you what to do. I think you’ve had enough of other people’s manipulation. I will, however, make recommendations. And I absolutely insist that you meet me halfway. If you’re not willing to work hard, I’m not wasting my time on you.” Lucas sat back in his chair, one foot crossed over his knee and iPad in hand. “First off, you’re leaving the band, but what about the songs? You wrote most of the lyrics, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, but they’re listed as collaborations. My m… manager kept up with the copyrights.”
Calm and cool, the man who might become Henri’s new manager didn’t miss a beat. “Then write more. Some of those are old, and I’m sure you learned a bit along the way.” He winked and added, “Songs can be copyrighted. Titles can’t. Also, I want you to take a good, hard look at yourself. For the last few years you’ve been coasting. You’ve lost some of your sparkle, and your own band didn’t seem a good fit for you anymore. Now’s your chance to decide who you are, what kind of music you want to perform, and make it happen. Our spin will be you’re leaving the band voluntarily to pursue a new direction.”
Reinvent himself? And had Henri lost some of his drive? Well, coming to a concert stoned or hungover might count as showing a bit of disinterest, though he’d given up hard drugs two years ago in favor of pot and booze. The heavy stuff sapped his creativity. “What do you want me to do?”
“First thing, you’re going to take time off, write new material while I lay the groundwork for your return.” Lucas punched away on his iPad for a minute.
“Do you really believe this will work?” Could Henri drop the fake and finally be himself?
“I wouldn’t waste my time if I didn’t.”
So cool, so confident. And yet so down to earth. Different from Margo in a million ways. Trusting anyone at this point might be beyond Henri’s abilities. He snorted. Look where trusting family had gotten him. “I’m taking time off here.”
Lucas wrinkled his nose. “No offense, but this environment isn’t conducive to the creative process.”
True. But the public knew where Henri’s houses were, and his usual haunts. “Where can I go?”
“I’ll work out the details and get back to you.”
“Let me see the contract.”
Lucas reached into his briefcase and extracted a sheaf of papers. Old-fashioned, despite the iPad. Nice.
Extremely straightforward, nothing out of the ordinary. “I’d like my lawyer to look this over.”
“But of course.”
In the end Henry signed on the dotted line, one step closer to getting his life back.
* * *
“You hada visitor, but he wasn’t on the list and wouldn’t tell us his name so we turned him away,” Nurse Cranky announced.
“He?” Dare Henri hope his dad had come by? “What did he look like?”
“How should I know? Fred was on shift.”
“Can I talk to Fred?”
“In about two weeks, when he gets back from Cancun.”
Fuck. Henri wouldn’t be here in two weeks.
“Oh, I do remember one thing. He told Fred he’s your biggest fan.”
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. He’d been found. Henri held his breath to keep panic at bay.
The moment the woman left the room, he dialed Detective Shepherd. Then he called Lucas. “Get me the fuck out of here.”
* * *
