“Well, okay. I’m headed towards you. Call 9-9-9 and don’t move.”
“Alright, darling.”
I hung up and raced to Betty. My face said it all.
“Oh, shit. Are you okay, Mary?”
“I just… I’m so sorry. I need to rush and deal with an emergency. I’m so sorry, Betty. You’re amazing and?—”
“It’s okay,” Betty said, disappointed but kind. “Look, I get it. Shit happens.”
Too often in my case!
“I’ll head out. I gotta get a cab back anyhow. I need to be at the barn at eight.”
We filed out to the corner cab line, dodging a couple having a drunken argument.
“You take the first cab,” Betty urged.
“Oh… okay.” I stepped forward.
She threw her arms around me, then kissed me goodbye. “I hope whatever it is, Mary, it’s going to be okay.”
I didn’t know it yet, but I’d not forget the warmth in her voice for ages. It was as if I knew this old soul for longer than three hours. I didn’t know it, but the missed opportunity to get her number would haunt me for years. If I’d even stood a chance, I would have tried. Unfortunately, Betty remained anactualenigma. Who was she? And why was I so drawn to her?
Part One
The Single
Chapter 1
Making Magic
MARY
“Stop, stop, stop!” Winifred Kew announced. “God damn it, Barry. You’re off.”
He wasn’t off, Winifred. Another day producing a band on the verge of stardom and dealing with their diva frontwoman. Playground’s problem wasn’t their sound or cohesion. It was that everyone had fucked everyone and Winnie had main character energy in the biggest way. Unfortunately, she was wildly talented, and I loved writing and producing for her.
I glanced to my right at their manager, AJ, looking like he might die. He wasn’t managinganyonetoday. Winnie was out for blood with her ex, Barry the Drummer. His cardinal sin? Daring to mention he was bringing his wife to an industry event. They’d been broken up for years, but she never got over it.
We were running short on studio time and trying to record the most important single of their careers—an angry pop banger destined for Europe’s foremost song competition, UniVox. Of course, none of that mattered if we couldn’t channel Winifred’s rage into something productive.
Taking in a deep breath, AJ hit the call button. “Winifred, can we just try again without Barry and the track? We don’t have to do it all live.”
“Yes, but I don’t think he’s even bloody well managed to nail the beat on the backing track!” She glared in his direction before spinning back around.
“Winifred,” Alicia groaned. “Let’s just kick ass, okay? Focus!”
Her pleas fell on deaf ears. “No way! I’m so fucking done!”
“Winifred!” Barry called. “Can we just not?—”
“No. You know how I feel when you talk about her! You’re trying to throw me off—just like now.”
“Oh my God it does not matter!” Clarice Portan, their lead guitarist, urged. “Can we just finish the single and move the fuck on? We don’t have time or money to waste here.”
Winifred threw her sheet music up dramatically. “Youwoulddefend him! I swear to God I’m gone?—”
