The record label had expectations. So did her manager and fans. She didn’t want to disappoint any of them.
The yellow legal pad, still as pristine as when she’d bought it, mocked her. She grabbed the pencil and wrote in big, block letters, WRITE.
Not much in terms of inspiration, but right now, it was all she had.
Tapping her pencil against the paper, she closed her eyes. She thought about her conversation with Lauren, which made her think of Luke and his great club for kids. She should really volunteer there to get her mind off her troubles. She’d given music lessons in college to make money, why not do some good while waiting for inspiration to strike?
The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. But would Luke accept her assistance? Only one way to find out.
With her mind whirling, Cassie hurried to the guest room. Even though it was Sunday, she’d go to the Klub and see if Luke was available. If he was as dedicated as Lauren said, she suspected he’d be on site. She chose an outfit, showered and dressed in record time, braided her hair and slipped on chunky ankle boots. Enough worrying. She needed action. Time to make a positive impression like her life depended on it.
After calling Lauren for directions, she drove her rented red convertible, complete with all the bells and whistles, to the Klub’s address. The sporty two-seater was similar to her car back home, her one splurge after the first album. As she entered the spacious warehouse, walking into a gymnasium setup, butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She noticed teens hanging out, some playing hoops, others working on some type of project, a good indication Luke was indeed here.
She stopped a young man with glasses. “Can you tell me where I can find Luke Hastings?”
“In his office.” The boy pointed to an opening on the far side of the gym. “Down the hallway.”
“Thanks.”
Hand on her stomach, Cassie ventured to the door clearly marked Mr. Hastings. She lifted her hand to knock on the partially open door when she heard the sudden peal of bells.
Bells? She blinked, realizing the disruption came from her cell phone. Grabbing it from her jacket pocket, she read her manager’s name on the screen. She swiped the screen and said hello.
“Hey, stranger,” said Travis. “You don’t write, you don’t call.”
Did he suspect her dilemma? He couldn’t. She’d only told Lauren about her predicament. See, she was so off balance she was transferring her fears to everything.
“Sorry. Been busy with wedding stuff.”
“Not too busy to work on new material, right? I gotta say, I’m a bit concerned I haven’t heard from you.”
Travis Bailey had taken Cassie under his wing when she’d first made a splash in the club scene around LA. Without his guidance, there’s no telling how she would have navigated the murky waters of the recording industry. The man had a heart of gold, for his clients, anyway. Otherwise his instincts resembled an attack dog, brokering deals and keeping those he managed away from bad contracts and shady characters making false promises. A middle-aged hipster with thinning hair, he had plenty of lines on his boyish face, attesting to years of smiles. He’d become something of a substitute dad to her over the years. Letting him down would break her heart.
“Sorry, Travis. I’m trying to get some work done while I’m here.” She bit her lower lip. Not a lie, exactly. She was trying.
“Great. We have to hit this thing with everything we’ve got. I’ve spoken to Ron and they’re looking for a stellar product.”
Cassie swallowed hard. Ron Harding, an executive at the label and the idiot, er, mastermind, in proposing the changes in her sound, was a hard man to please. He’d dropped other artists for less of a flop than Cassie’s last album.
She’d always wondered why Travis had let the producer tweak her sound. Travis had been gung ho and she’d been so caught up in the whirlwind excitement of cutting another album, she didn’t dare ask. Didn’t dare voice her opinion after only one album with people who’d had years of experience. Well, she’d learned. The bad album fell squarely on her shoulders for not expressing her true self. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
“In the meantime, what about a few touring dates before you go into the studio? You know, for momentum. Any thoughts?”
How on earth could she make any appearances when she was most likely going to get kicked out of said studio? All without her manager realizing any of her concerns.
“Um, why don’t you hold off. Or better yet, start looking at the calendar after I finish the album. Don’t want too much on my plate. This project is so important.”
And she needed to stay in Cypress Pointe where she had access to Luke.
Travis went silent for a few beats. “You okay? You sound weird. Pressure isn’t gettin’ to you, is it?”
“We both know this is make or break, Travis. I’d be unrealistic not to be concerned.”
“Now, calm down,” he tsked in the soothing voice that had pulled her from the edge multiple times. “You’ve got this.”
“And if I don’t?”
“We’ll figure it out. Like we always do.”
His words should have made her feel better, but created the opposite effect.
“You’ll keep me in the loop?”
“Yes, sir,” she answered, adding a little sass to her tone.
He chuckled. “That’s more like it, although I still think you should consider touring.”
She winced. “I’ll get back to you on the concert idea.”
“That’s my girl. Talk to you soon.”
Hitting the end button, she stared at the dark screen. She couldn’t tour, not now or in the future. Planning a concert was on the bottom of her to-do list. If, and when, the album was made, she’d consider going on the road. Until then...
Her manager had faith in her, but did she? “What were you thinking, Travis?”
The sound of a throat being cleared made her jump. She looked up into amused brown eyes. “Talk to yourself much?”
Good grief. So much for a positive impression.
* * *
LUKE HELD BACK a grin at Cassie’s mortified expression.
He’d been in his office, fingers stalled over the calculator as the same numbers kept appearing on the screen. A sharp ache took residence in his temple. No matter how many times he went over the accounting, there was still a big gap in his operating capital. Contributions came in regularly, but since the move to the warehouse, cash was tight.
A shout came from the gymnasium. Every Sunday, a bunch of the boys gathered for a game of basketball. Luke didn’t mind opening up, especially when he discovered how many kids wanted to hang out. To him, the sound of voices meant he was doing something right, justifying his decision to move into this larger building.
He’d been about to abandon his depressing act of going over the finances when a feminine voice floated in from outside his office door. He recognized Cassie’s sweet cadence. What was she doing here? Intrigued, he went to investigate.
He certainly hadn’t expected to see her any time soon, if at all. Since the wedding events were over, he figured she’d leave town before they had a chance to reconnect. Yet here