“Anything else?”
“The cover and song list are handwritten in the CDs. Templates for creating cover art and CD inserts are readily available online. If they don’t take the time to do what they can with the resources out there, can we trust them to do any self-promotion?”
Jeremy grinned, “All excellent observations. It’s almost like they heard there was a music festival and thought they could make a quick buck on mediocre CD sales.”
“And five dollars is such a good deal that they’ll probably sell out, never to be heard from again.”
“Exactly. That’s not what we’re looking for. We’re looking for big dreamers that just need that one shot to take the world by storm.”
“I get you.”
But it wasn’t just his words I understood. Jeremy was on fire. Face lit up and all but bouncing on the balls of his feet, his eyes darted from place to place, taking it all in. He was positively buzzing with energy and lit by a fire I longed to feel, he was radiant. It was like looking in the mirror in my glory days, when the urge to play tennis had me jumping out of bed at dawn.
“You really love this part, don’t you?”
“I do, but I don’t get to do it much.”
“Why?”
“Honestly? I spend a lot of time playing catch up when I should be out scouring music festivals and small venues for untapped talent.”
“Garret?”
“I hate to be like that, but yeah. He’s pushing deadlines so much and it really throws my schedule off. I try to work around it, but when we have a cover reveal or a teaser, I need his graphics to pique interest. Then there’s stopping what I’m doing to help him catch up on his work.”
“Why doesn’t Laura just fire him?”
Jeremy blew a breath upward so the loose spiral that had made its way to his forehead floated back into place. “He’s talented, and we need him. And he always makes it within reason, but it would be nice if he didn’t wait until the last minute to get after it, you know?”
“I get it. If he finishes a little early, you can plan what you have to do.”
“Yeah. If I say I need his final picture by noon on Monday, he’ll hand it to me on Tuesday morning. It wouldn’t be so bad if it was once in a while, but it’s every single project and it’s ridic.”
“Sometimes creative minds struggle with boundaries,” I offered.
“You’re right, and I think that’s why Laura goes easy on him. Plus, his work is incredible.” He shook his head and sighed. “Let’s forget about Garret and have a little fun.” He held out his hand and without thinking, I took it. He smiled, then he pulled me into the crowd and showed me the world of music through his eyes.
The festival was over far too soon, and I was reluctant to end the day. When we got into my car I gripped the steering wheel hard and took a deep breath before I looked at him. “Today has really gotten me thinking about music and what it means to me.”
“I had fun, too,” he said.
“I’ve been working on different things while I get a feel for the job I’d like, but maybe we could talk about the possibilities. Laura and I talked about laying down guitar tracks for demos and such, but I need a regular job to keep me busy a few days a week. Besides the social media and design side with you and Garret, I’ve worked on the newsletter and shadowed Laura on sales but nothing really struck my fancy. You are such a wealth of information and I was thinking dinner would be nice.”
I waited, forcing myself to take easy, measured breaths while the silence stretched between us.
“I would love that,” he said. “But I’m all peopled out. Any way we can pick up Chinese takeout?”
“Perfect,” I said, hiding my glee.
It had gotten colder since we’d left the office for the festival, so I put the top up, silencing the wind that had whipped around us and made conversation difficult. We grabbed takeout and after loading it onto Jeremy’s lap, I carefully guided my convertible down the road avoiding anything that might make the food spill. Radio off, we rehashed the day while I drove, then I noticed Jeremy was on his phone and my hackles raised. “Something come up?” I asked, hiding the disdain from my voice with monumental effort.
“No, actually, I was texting Laura. I had an idea. I hope you don’t mind me sharing it with her.”
“What was that?”
“Today you were on your game and you seem to have a knack for seeing right through people. I think being a talent coordinator would be the perfect position for you.”
“You do?” I was beaming.
“I do. You’d spend most of your time scouting out fresh talent,” he paused, his fingers brushing my hand that rested on the gear shifter. “Sometimes alone, but we could do it together, too. You wouldn’t spend much time in the office except in the early stages of recruiting new acts. It would be the best of both worlds, and it would take a small amount off Garret’s plate so he could focus on design. Laura thinks it’s a wonderful idea.”
“That sounds ideal,” I replied, pulling up in front of my house and killing the engine. “Wait there, I’ll come around and get the door and some boxes from your lap.”
“I’ve got it,” he said.
“No, really. Let me help you.”
He rolled his eyes but he stayed where he was until I’d collected most of the boxes. When he got out his lips were tight, though he didn’t say anything about me carrying most of the load.
When we stepped inside he went straight to the table to set down his boxes, then he returned, scooping a bag out of my hands before I could object. “I almost forgot you’ve been here before,” I remarked. “It wasn’t my finest hour.”
“We’ve all been at our lowest at one time or another.” He was pulling white boxes out of the paper bags and started arranging them on the table.
“Thank you for keeping it to yourself, at least. It means a lot not to have my face plastered all over the front of the tabloids. Not that they pay much for former tennis stars anymore, but still.”
“Even if they did, I don’t care about money that much.”
“I’ve noticed.” I had. Where most men had mentioned the quality of my wardrobe or pushed me to reveal the cost of my home or car, Jeremy seemed to be completely oblivious. He was either the best liar I’d ever encountered, or he was genuine.
You thought Steve was genuine and look what that got you. The doubt crept in but I pushed it away. Jeremy wasn’t like the others. Right?
“Everything all right?” Jeremy asked.
I realized then that I was sitting there, chopsticks in hand, frozen in place. I laughed it off. “No. I was just thinking I’m too hungry to wrestle with chopsticks. Would you like a fork?”
He let out a heavy sigh. “I’m so relieved because I was trying to figure out how I was going to fake my way through that. Put a piano in front of me and I’m all grace, but a pair of thin sticks and rice?” He shook his head. “Ain’t happening.”
When I returned with the forks he had taken the seat next to mine instead of sitting across from me. Our eyes met and my heart skipped a beat. His smile was lopsided, the mass of curls framing his face perfectly. “You’re so handsome,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.