Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“Old man? Don’t think I won’t knock you one just because you save lives.”
Drew laughed. “Don’t think I’ll let you get over on me just because you’re wise and my niece or nephew’s grandfather.”
That seemed to please the old man, who slid the platter back to the middle of the table. “Glad we settled that, then.”
Drew nodded. “So, were you really on tour with the Rusty Nails?”
“Oh, yeah. It was all sex, pot, and music.” Granddaddy laughed and shook his head. “It was good time. You should’ve been there.”
“I was still in my dad’s nuts back then.”
Granddaddy exploded with laughter and pointed at Drew. “You’re not the stuffed-shirt I thought you were, Dr. Drew.”
Drew’s lips twitched. “Don’t call me that.”
Zola laughed and soon, Suzie joined in, and I had no idea why. Neither bothered to fill us stupid men in on what was so funny. Drew’s lips twitched and soon he was laughing, too.
It was a great moment, one of those moments that would sustain me on the road, thinking about our crazy families having dinner together for the first of what I hoped to be many dinners. Everyone smiled as laughter filled the dining room.
It was perfect.
“Who wants to fill me in on the joke?” At the sound of Alex’s voice, the laughter died slowly. “Gavin,” he said as if he hadn’t noticed the revelry his presence had broken up. “We need to talk. Right away.”
My heart stopped and I slid a look toward Suzie. She did her best to appear unaffected by Alex’s presence when I knew damn well that she knew what it meant. I was leaving. My heart started up again and kicked against my chest like a bull in a rodeo.
“All right. After dinner.”
“Now,” he said, his tone serious.
“After. Dinner.” I stood and pointed to the seat beside Drew. “Sit and eat or wait for me in the office. Or outside. Somewhere else.”
“We need to go over the schedule, Gavin. No time to waste.”
“No time, really?” I folded my arms and glared at my agent. “So, the first thing on the schedule is tomorrow morning?”
Alex blinked. “No.”
“Then I can damn well finish my dinner.”
And I did, but the mood was different after Alex’s arrival, so I postponed the brownie pie Granddaddy made and took Alex to my office.
“All right, what was so damn important that it couldn’t wait?”
Alex sighed. “Sorry,” he said without a hint of apology in his tone. “Starting Monday, we kick off three weeks of promo, doing the rounds on TV, radio, and internet. Magazines, too. We’ll get your face in front of everyone we can. We’ll do a few live spots of you playing some of your biggest hits and then ten days of downtime that may or may not include a few interviews.” Alex sighed and looked up at me—finally—for approval. “The week the album drops, you’ll be going pretty much nonstop with live musical performances of your first couple singles. Then,” he sat back with a smile, “North American tour for four months to start.”
My heart sank. Four months. To start. That would definitely cost me this chance I had with Suzie. “Why so soon? Usually, we wait to see how the album sells before setting up a tour.”
Alex laughed. “You’re Gavin fucking Ross, man. A guaranteed stadium sell-out artist. And the pre-sale orders are through the roof. This is a good thing, Gavin.”
“I know it is, Alex. The timing is just awful, but I’m on board. No worries.”
Now I just had to go out there and tell Suzie.
I found her sitting quietly in the theater room, a stoic, almost blank expression on her face. “Suzie.”
She looked up with a small, sad smile. “It’s all right, Gavin. We knew this would happen, and sooner rather than later.”
“I know, but I hate it.”
Her smile flashed and it was still sad, but more affectionate. “When you came to Jackson’s Ridge, you were worried you might not ever sing again, and now you have an album and a half worth of music and a tour in your future. This is a good thing, and I don’t want you to be unhappy about it. This is your career, the thing you love most.”
Not anymore. But she wouldn’t be able to hear those words, not now. “Still, I’m not ready to leave you.”
She sighed and pushed off the sofa. “And I’m not ready for you to leave, but you have to. This is what you do, it’s your superpower. And you’re contractually obligated to do it.” She put a hand to my chest and gave me a small pat. It felt like goodbye, like she was trying to put the distance between us that she’d talked about at the start of the week. “Go out there and make the world fall in love with you through your music.”