Lucas returnedthree days later. “I have just the place. I know someone I’d like you to spend time with, though his style of music is vastly different from yours. If you don’t mind my saying, vocally, you need a bit of discipline. You’ve never taken the first voice lesson, have you?”
Voice lessons? Really? A bit late for vocal training. “I’ve got a gold album. What do I need with voice lessons?”
“The man who thinks he knows everything is a fool.” Lucas displayed no smirk, no smugness, merely a matter-of-factness Henri couldn’t deny. Damn the man for being right. “And wouldn’t you like to add a platinum album to your collection one day? If you want to up the rewards you have to up the stakes and, to be totally honest, your current version of ‘A Matter of When’won’t get you there.”
Finally, someone said what Henri always believed, instead of “You’ll get it next time.” “I hang out with this guy, he teaches me a few things, I write some songs, and then what?” Maybe the guy smoked good shit. And shared.
“You’ll need backup, a name, a little exposure. We’ll go into the studio, leak a few tracks to incite interest, and you start touring again.”
“You make it sound easy.” The doctor’s words came back to Henri:Nothing worthwhile is easy.
“It’s my job to make it easy.” Reared-back shoulders and a determined gleam in his eyes said Lucas meant business.
Okay, Henri could play along. It wasn’t like he was doing anything else useful at the moment. “Who is this guy I’m supposed to learn from?” Was it too much to ask for a gorgeous Greek god of a man? A horny one? Damn, but Henri needed to get laid, but the mere idea of inviting someone into his bed who’d sell him out five minutes later deflated his libido.
“Sebastian Unger, an opera tenor, and the son of a good friend of mine, so be on your best behavior.”
Opera? Well, Henri could make a deal. Let this Sebastian guy keep whatever he’d been offered, as long as he left Henri alone and gave Lucas good reports. Bonus for drugs provided. No way in hell would the creative juices flow without a bribe for the muses, despite what Dr. Worthington said.
“Where does he live?”
“Evergreen, Colorado.”
Colorado? Woot! Legal pot! “When can I leave?”
* * *
“Now, Iknow you’re leaving and aren’t my client anymore, but if you ever need me…” Tessa pulled out a business card and scribbled on the back.
Oh. So now she’d show her true colors, with a wink and a “Call me.” Henri should have known.
Instead, she said, “That’s my personal e-mail. If you’re stressed, feel yourself slipping, either call or e-mail.” Her crystal green eyes bored into his. “If not my help, though, please ask someone. A family member, a friend. You’ve come too far to go back now.” She hugged him as tears glittered in her eyes. “Take care of yourself.”
So this was what it felt like to have someone truly care. Strange, but nice. Henri kept the card.
