Page 34 of Your Play to Call

“The thing about smaller venues like you’re talking about is that they’re not very lucrative,” someone points out. I knew this would be the sticking point.

“You deserve to be paid for your hard work—” someone else interjects like it’s not just about the money for them and sounds of agreement follow.

“I’ve been paid. I have more money than I’ll get to spend in this lifetime. My last album sold more units across more formats than anyone projected, by a long shot. There’s no reason to think this one won’t do the same, or better.”

Erik leans back and clasps his hands behind his neck. He stares at the ceiling, kind of rocking in his chair.

“Here’s the deal. I don’t even need to be paid for the tour. Keep my cut. Pay the team, the venue, and the label can have what’s left.”

I know what I’m proposing is unhinged, and while it’s insane to have an artist work for free, the people across from me seem to relax a bit at the offer.

“How many songs do you have?” Erik questions with a side-eye look.

“She has enough but that’s under lock and key until we all get on the same page. I know this wasn’t what you were expecting, so we’ll let you mull it over,” Claire says while starting to gather her things, indicating we’re ready to go. This is why she’s my manager.

“We can’t just buy into something without hearing any of it,” Erik says.

“Come on, it’sour girl, Willow. You know it’s going to be fucking great. We don’t need the greenlight today. Think about it. Let us know if you have questions or ideas. Let’s get together soon. Emilie, you’ll schedule that for us?” Claire stands.

Emilie nods and follows suit.

“I know this is surprising, but I’m really excited about what I’ve got. I can bring a sample next week, just in case.” I stand up and smile. I try to make eye contact with everyone in the room because I know I’m asking for something that’s hard for them to give. But I’ve given a lot too.

I follow Claire and Emilie, not breathing until we’re far from the conference room.

“Honestly, that went better than I thought it would. Proud of you,” Claire says as we exit the building.

Emilie bursts out laughing.

“I’m sorry. It’s not funny. I was so nervous in there and you know how I get,” Emilie says, trying to smooth her reaction. Her first reaction is always laughter.

“Thank you for not doingthatin there,” Claire says but smiles at the end.

My stomach flips thinking about going against the grain, what I’ve asked for.

“Claire, I’ve got to hand it to you. You’ve got some balls,” Emilie says.

My head snaps to Claire, worrying that she’ll be offended. But she smiles.

“Thank you, Emilie.” Claire puts her hand on her chest in gratitude. “I do have balls. And you know what? They’re bigger than Erik’s.”

“I don’t think anyone doubts that,” Emilie says.

Chapter 22

Willow

After switching cars, askingmy assistant to make it seem like I was headed somewhere else, and stopping to grab snacks, I pull into Willow’s driveway almost an hour late. I try to quiet the voice in my head saying,You should be training.I shouldn’t be training. I’m allowed to take a break.

My apology is more important.

I suck in a deep breath before knocking on Willow’s door. My hands feel heavy and awkward. The seconds after stretch, making my stomach flip like it’s a few minutes before kickoff. Can’t remember when something besides the promise of a big game made me feel like this.

The door opens and Willow is wearing black leggings with a baggy quarter-zip sweatshirt. It’s this light purple color, like lilacs. My mom’s favorite flower.

“Hey, you made it,” she says while leaning on one foot, a light jab at me being late. “And you brought…?”

“Snacks are always a must,” I say, lifting the bag up.