Page 49 of The Deviation
She shakes her head. “Mezzo-soprano. But I can go low if I need to.” The hint of pride in her voice makes me smile.
“Hell yeah, you can,” I say with a laugh. “Do you have some paper and a pen? I want to get those new words down before we lose them.”
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
I give her a look. “And don’t even pretend there isn’t more where that came from.”
“Maybe.” A reluctant grin sneaks onto her face. “Okay, but we have to stop before Cal comes home.”
“Agreed.” I can’t be here when he gets back. I shouldn’t even be here now. “An hour?”
She looks at her watch, deliberating, before turning back to me with eager eyes. “Let’s do it.”
TWENTY
______
CALUM
My feet are like lead as I mount the stairs leading to my apartment door. This afternoon’s meeting with my boss, and the other Rush managers, has been replaying on a loop in my head all the way home, and I’m ready for a long, hot shower to wash away the cloying sense of disillusionment.
While Genevieve is thrilled with the swift progress I’m making with the Starling siblings, her approval is more reserved when it comes to Fifth Circle. Their star is on the rise, certainly, and she has every faith in the band’s future success. She would simply prefer the future be brought into the now. Unfortunately, her accelerated timeline doesn’t gel with the band’s preference for a more relaxed approach.
Fifth Circle’s first full-length album will be released in two months. Then, they’ll play the Autumn Skies Music Festival again. The month after that, they’ll embark on a four-week national tour before regrouping and planning their next move. Is it the boldest of plans? No. But it does take all their needs into consideration—including Ned’s lingering anxiety, Johnny’s available leave from the pharmacy, and Gavin’s reluctance to be separated from his wife for long periods of time. Oz, single and self-employed, is the only one with the ability to pick up and go whenever.
I pitched the plan to Genevieve as a ‘considered path to a sustainable high’. Arthur scoffed from his place at her side, wondering aloud if this crap was down to a lack of commitmenton their part or a lack of persuasiveness on mine. Everyone else in the room remained deathly silent.
“How are you getting along with the members of Fifth Circle?” Genevieve asked.
A twinge of anxiety shot through me before I reminded myself she couldn’t possibly know about me and Johnny when there’s nothing to know. “We’ve developed a strong working relationship and have excellent rapport.”
“You’ve become friendly with them, have you?” she asked with a tight smile.
Swallowing, I nodded. “I would say so, yes.”
“Except clients are not friends, Calum.” Any warmth her expression may have held winked out. “Clients are resources, and the majority of them spoil rapidly. If you can’t get the best out of them while they’re still fresh in the public’s eye, then how will you make the time you’ve spent with them worthmywhile?”
Even now, hours later, I can still taste the sour edge of her disappointment in the back of my mouth. I’ve never wanted to be the kind of manager who wrings the talent from my artists as hard and as fast as possible. The Starling siblings are young and eager. They want a meteoric rise to fame and I’m working my arse off to make that happen for them.
Fifth Circle is different. When I first approached Ned at the festival last April, I tried pitching the hard and fast approach. It didn’t take long to realise my mistake.
These men I’ve come to care about have massive potential. And yes, if I pushed them harder, the embers they’ve been fanning would almost certainly ignite into a blazing wildfire. But that kind of heat would consume them whole. Ned would be the first to succumb to the flames.
My passion for this job came from my dream of supporting Hannah as she stepped into the limelight. For me, treating my artists with less care than I would show for my sister would betantamount to failure—no matter how much money I, or anyone else, made in the process.
However, this is a business. Genevieve’s business. I do appreciate the need for my work to contribute to the company’s profits. I always believed when I became a manager, I would find a way to strike a balance between protecting my client’s interests and meeting Rush’s demanding business objectives. Without being careless like Arthur. Without being manipulative like Zac. I’ve worked so hard these past seven months to make it happen. After today, I’m beginning to wonder if such a compromise is even possible.
Genevieve’s patience with me is wearing thin. While she has decided to allow me to continue as I am for now, the implication is clear: If I fail to meet my targets within a reasonable time frame, I’ll be expected to sacrifice my ideals in favour of Rush’s bottom line.
I’m halfway up the final staircase when I hear her. My body stills, ears straining for more.
Hannah.
She’s singing.
My eyes close, a smile creeping its way onto my tired face. Damn, she’s good. I’d almost forgotten.
I’m about to open the door when something about what I’m hearing makes me stop. The guitar. Hannah is good with a guitar. She’s better than I’ll ever be, but she’s notthisgood. Whoever’s accompanying her sounds like… Johnny. I gasp. It can’t be.