“It has tomatoes.”
“That argument has failed in several courts.”
Richard ignored us.
“We’re building a long-term career. Country audiences value authenticity, but they also respond to familiarity. They like to understand the story.”
“What story?”
“Small-town girl. Big voice. Family values. Hard work. Humility.”
“Does falling off the bull count as humility?”
“No one is releasing the bull footage,” Sophie said.
“There is no footage.”
“That’s what people always say before footage.”
Rachel’s gaze stayed on Richard.
“And her personal life?”
There it was.
The room did not become colder.
No ominous music played.
Nobody leaned forward and announced that this was the part where things became difficult.
The air-conditioning continued humming. Someone laughed in the hallway. My coffee remained terrible.
Richard chose his words carefully.
“We’re not asking Savannah to lie.”
Rachel’s eyebrows rose.
“That is not a reassuring opening sentence.”
“We’re asking her to protect her privacy.”
“From what?” I said.
Richard looked at me.
“From becoming the story before the music has a chance to be.”
For a second, I did not understand.
Then I did.
The pizza settled heavily in my stomach.
Sophie spoke gently.
“The press is going to ask whether you’re dating anyone.”
