Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
It’s odd for her to call us kids. She’s Cassie’s age. She’s younger than me and Frederick.
Lisa whispers something in Bryce’s ear. He whispers back. “I wanted to work with your dad, but he turned me down.” She directs the comment at us, but she doesn’t specify which of our fathers she means. “He said he doesn’t write for young women anymore.”
My father.
And since when?
I guess that’s a conversation I missed somewhere between drowning my thoughts in bourbon and drying them to death.
But that’s not the point here. What the hell is the point? I don’t know how to judge normal human interaction anymore. I don’t know if she’s mentioning Dad as a friendly gesture to remind me I’m here because of nepotism (no doubt true, but it’s not thanks to my father directly; it’s thanks to my family’s friendship with Cassie’s), or to underline her desire for a female lyricist.
I am lucky I was born into music industry royalty. But it means I spend my life running from my father’s shadows.
People see that when it comes to work.
They don’t remember the addiction. Or they pretend it doesn’t exist.
“Good thing I’m here then.” Cassie smiles at Lisa. “And don’t mind Damon’s frown.” Cassie reaches out and runs her fingers over my jaw. “He hates being compared to his father. Who doesn’t?”
Bryce nods. Lisa too.
“I love being compared to my father,” Tinsel says. “He’s a great guy. Smart and hardworking. Well, those parts. He’s an accountant, so he’s not Mr. Creative. But he is the best.”
Frederick nods. “He’s great, yeah.”
“Should we move onto Mommy issues next?” Bryce laughs and whispers something in Lisa’s ear.
She shakes her head. “No. Let get right to it.” She smiles. “Ms. Steele already guessed why I’m here. Bryce asked for help picking songs for his albums, but I have ulterior motives. I want to steal you.”
Cassie takes my hand and squeezes hard.
“See, Bryce loves your drafts.” She names the song we submitted a few hours ago and another song. The other team’s. “But I love it too. And he won’t relinquish it.”
“It would be better for you,” Cassie says. “It’s cutting and people don’t want that from Bryce. He’s like… a hot Ed Sheeran.”
Lisa laughs. “That’s what I told him. But he wants it all the same.”
“We can pull back,” Cassie says. “So it fits him. For you, we can do something similar.” Cassie offers Lisa all her attention. “I know exactly the style. Something with that hint of hard-rock grunge, that mix of anger and hurt. Like your covers.”
Lisa’s face lights up. She looks at Cassie like Cassie is the star, finally paying attention to her.
“I love them,” Cassie says. “I listen every time I need to feel… anything. They shouldn’t work. All that anger and all that hurt shouldn’t fold together as well as they do, but they do. You make it happen. I want to help you make that happen. Whatever it takes.” Cassie releases me and moves to the couch. Without asking, she sits next to Lisa. “Can I borrow this?” She motions to the phone Bryce is holding.
He hands it over.
Cassie pulls up a streaming app and plays a song. It’s a deep cut from the nineties. One I don’t know. But Lisa recognizes it immediately. “Only we do it your way. With all that pain in your voice.”
“I love that.” Lisa puts her hand on Cassie’s. “But, well, that’s what I was getting to… we want both of you. All of you.”
Bryce smiles. “Yes. All six of us, at the house, next weekend.” That was the plan. Only it was supposed to be the three of us. “We’ve got a studio there. We’ve got food, drinks, an assistant willing to fetch us anything.”
“And the view there… gorgeous,” Lisa says.
Bryce whispers something in her ear, then turns to us. “Come Friday. We’ll work all day Saturday and Sunday. My producer will show up Monday. Help us sort through everything.”
Lisa takes the floor. “We’ll take the songs you submit this week, what we work on this weekend, and then we’ll pick what goes where.”
Cassie bites her tongue. She wants to protest, to mention the superiority of a cohesive album, but she doesn’t. She works with the client. “Sure. If it’s okay with you, baby.”
A weekend, with these two weird celebrities, and her ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend.
Three days straight of pretending in front of Bryce is one thing. We can focus on work. Ignore the bullshit.
Adding her ex and his girlfriend means we need flawless execution. He can’t see us break character once. And he knows Cassie well. Too well.
Still.
The choice is easy.
We both need this opportunity. Now, with the chance to take twice the opportunity, we need to play both our parts four times as well.
We have to rise to the occasion.