Page 20 of The Deviation

“Fifth Circle is my find and if they sign with Rush, I want to be the one to bring them into the fold.”

“That’s an excellent idea, but apparently you’ve already taken no for an answer.” Her tone is mild but there is a wealth of judgement in the words. I had my chance. I failed. “All right, everyone,” she continues to the room at large. “Mr Ellis and I are going to need the room.”

A clamour of activity begins as everyone rushes to leave before they’re contaminated by my vocational stink. Arthur is in no such rush. He knows his worth here, even if he does misuse those beneath him to maintain his lofty reputation.

Finally, he pulls the door closed behind him and silence rushes to fill the space between me and the woman who signs off on my pay cheques.

She remains in her chair at the far end of the boardroom table, her hands loosely clasped in front of her as she regards me with inscrutable eyes. “Calum, dear, I have high hopes for you. You’re smart and you work hard. But I’m beginning to wonder if you have the determination required for this line of work.”

“I do,” I assure her.

“It’s been three months since I offered you the opportunity to sign a band of your own. You’ve found a suitable band. What’s the problem?”

“They insist they don’t want to grow beyond what they’re doing now.”

“Ridiculous. Everyone wants to grow.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“You only spoke to the lead singer, Ned Corbyn. Yes?” At my nod, she continues. “If Johnny Durant is the one who formed the band, why not go directly to him? I’m sure he didn’t spend years piecing this act together so they could hide their light under a bushel.”

“I got the impression Ned is the most reluctant.”

“Who better to change his mind than his band mates.” She stands from her chair, indicating this meeting is nearing its conclusion. “I agree, Fifth Circle will be perfect as your first client. I expect the signed papers on my desk by the end of next week.”

My heart is racing and I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Yes, ma’am.”

She pauses by the closed door, one hand on the knob. “Last chance, dear. If you want to be a Rush manager, find a way to turn that no into a yes.”

ELEVEN

______

JOHNNY

The guy on the dance floor has been watching me from the second I stepped onto the small pub stage, and I wonder if maybe I could be into him. His face is too far on the classical side of handsome to float my boat, normally. But he’s quick to smile. His body knows its way around a beat. And when the light shines on his pale hair from the right direction, I can almost pretend it’s ginger.

He’ll do.

By the time we finish our last set, my mind is racing. Can we load out our equipment fast enough for me to reach my target before he has a chance to disappear? If I do reach him, will I be able to go through with whatever happens next? I mean, itcouldhappen. I chased Calum halfway across a music festival; surely I can ask this guy to join me for a drink. If I’m a little less enthusiastic about it this time, that’s probably a good thing. I don’t want to be so desperate for dick I fall for every man who manages to make my pulse kick.

Load out seems to take forever, but as soon as we’re done, I rush into the tiny backstage bathroom to rinse the stage sweat from my face and torso. After drying off, I stuff everything into my duffel bag before heading out to the car park to throw it in the boot of my car. I’ll say a quick goodnight to the boys, and then slip back inside and—

One look at the man standing alone in the dimly lit car park brings every hopeful thought to a screeching halt.

Shock holds me frozen for a long moment. When I do begin walking towards him, I’m sure the mirage will dissipate with every step. I don’t stop until we’re up close and personal. My heart pounds, and my deepening breaths draw the scent of him into my lungs. He’s really here. And he really does look that good.

“Calum.” I imagine he can hear all sixty-seven days’ worth of longing in the roughness of my voice.

“Hello, Johnny.” His voice is rough, too.

We stare at each other in silence. I shift awkwardly on my feet. He remains stock still, his hands jammed into his pockets.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I um… I need to talk to you.”

Sparks of excitement tug at the corners of my mouth. “Couldn’t stay away from me, huh?”