“I…I have a website.”
He picks up his boarding pass and a pen. “Write it down for me. I’m going to show the girls when I get home.”
I shyly oblige, wishing I could ask him to write something on my boarding pass. And then I have a brainwave.
“Would you mind signing an autograph for Daisy? She’s a huge fan.”
He chuckles. “Of course.”
I hand him the card and watch as he scrawls a message.
Dear Daisy,
Thanks for listening to my music! It is amazing to know I have fans like you.
Have a beautiful life.
Lincoln.
P.S. Your mum is very talented!
I read it and smile. “Thank you so much! She is going to love this.”
“No problem.”
The food cart comes by and interrupts our chat. I figure I should give Lincoln some space, so I eat the breakfast wrap the attendant hands me while reading through the notes for my meeting on my phone. But I can’t concentrate. Having this rock god sitting inches away from me is making me giddy. His arm accidentally brushes mine, and I feel like I’ve been zapped.
“Oh, sorry, did I hurt you?” he asks when I physically jolt.
“No! I’m just nervous. About a meeting I have today.” Phew. Nice save, Tash.
“What’s your meeting for?”
I explain to him about my appointment with the supermarket people, and he nods, impressed. “Going by what I’ve just seen, you definitely deserve success. So, it looks like we both have interesting things happening today.”
“If your secret meeting doesn’t turn out the way you want, I will be very surprised,” I say.
“I appreciate your vote of confidence.”
The rest of the flight goes way too fast. I think I could stare at Lincoln forever and not get tired of it.
When we land, since we’re right at the back, we’re the last to disembark, but it still doesn’t feel like enough time. At least I didn’t get a chance to freak out too much about my appointment.
We go our separate ways in the terminal and Lincoln waves. “Good luck today. You’re going to kill it!”
“Thank you! You, too! I’ll keep an eye out on social media for what’s happening with your music.”
I watch him walk off, almost fanning myself. Millicent will find it hilarious when I tell her what just happened.
I take a deep breath. All right. Fun time is over.
Now I’m ready for business.
***
Some of Lincoln’s stardust must have rubbed off on me because my meeting goes even better than I expected, with the acquisitions department practically agreeing to stock my meals before I’ve even opened my mouth. Of course, they have a whole bunch of stipulations, and they want to maximise their profits, but I come out of it with a deal I feel is more than fair. Our lawyers are going to talk next week and make it all official.
I whip out my phone the second I’m sufficiently far enough away from the supermarket headquarters and call Millicent.
She answers immediately. “How did it go?”
“So, so well! They love the product, and they’re going to start stocking it in July.”
“Well done, babe! I’m so happy for you! And now for me, too! I’ve been looking at the Audi website today, and I’ve picked out this cute little silver number…”
“Ha-ha. Oh! I have other news! You would not believe who I was sitting next to on the flight here!”
“Who?”
“Lincoln freakin’ Page!”
She cackles loudly. “Seriously? Did he need to have you restrained by the flight crew?”
“No! I’ll have you know I was cool, calm, and collected the entire time, thank you very much. I did not try to maul him, as much as I would have liked to. I respect that he has a partner and family.”
“Good for you. Was he just like he seemed on TV?”
“Oh God, yes. Missy, he was so nice! And he even asked about my business!”
“Aw, that’s sweet. I guess I’ll have to prepare myself for endless talk about Lincoln Page once you get home, huh?”
“If I were to die today, I’d be a happy woman.”
“Well, don’t go accidentally wandering into traffic. You have an empire to expand and a daughter at home who needs you.”
“Duh, of course. I was being silly. Anyway, I should probably go check into my hotel. I’ll call again later when Daisy is home from school.”
“Okay, bye!”
I book an Uber and have it take me to my accommodation at Cockle Bay Wharf. After checking in, I open the minibar and celebrate my new business deal with a bunch of tiny spirits mixed with Coke. I don’t even mind that I’m on my own. Daisy is my favourite person in the entire world, but having a day off from the school routine and all the work that goes with being a single mother is heaven.
I switch on the hotel’s cable TV and locate the music channel. It’s blaring a setlist of nineties pop. Perfect. I dance around the hotel room, singing along.
When I get tired of that, I open Instagram on my phone and navigate to Lincoln’s account. I don’t actually follow him, because it would be kind of embarrassing to make my reality TV crush public—especially since I only have the one account for my business. I have a lot of followers, thanks to my bright photos of fun food. Pining after a reality singing star does not quite fit the image I’m trying to portray.
I am very tempted to start following Lincoln now, but I chicken out at the last minute. If he checks his notifications, he’ll make the connection immediately, and it will be mortifying to have him know I’m still thinking about him hours later.
His latest photo was only posted a little while ago. It’s a picture of him standing outside a big building with one hand doing the rock-n-roll sign. On anyone else, it would look like they were trying too hard, but Lincoln pulls it off. Probably because you can tell he’s enjoying himself and not taking the situation seriously.
I read the caption.
Exciting things are afoot!
There are dozens of comments already, with people telling Lincoln he was robbed and should have won the show. I read through every single one. He has a lot of fans.
I pause on one that looks like it’s from a friend of his called Felix.
Are you in Sydney, man? You want to meet up tonight at Nicky’s Bar? 9?
There’s actually a reply!
Sounds great. I’ll call to confirm.
Oh my God. Did Lincoln Page just tell everyone where he was going to be tonight? Does he not realise how many people follow him? That place is going to be insane.
I google the venue. It’s only two blocks away.
No. I am not going to stalk Lincoln at a bar. I look at the time. It’s seven thirty.
To distract myself, I scroll through his other Instagram photos. There’s one of him with his partner and girls. I look at how happy they all seem together, and my heart breaks a little. I wish I had that. Not with Lincoln—although, of course in another universe that would be the dream—but someone who looks at me the way he looks at Rachel and the twins.
It will happen for me eventually. I’m sure of it.
FOUR
Lincoln
I’m almost more nervous now than I’ve been at any of the previous elimination shows on Sing to Me. Maybe because this is real life now, and not a game.