Page 120 of Sing Your Secrets

“I don’t understand.”

“You shouldn’t,” she says. “They did a very good job burying the fine print. But bottom line, they don’t want your music, they want your life. The way this is written, you could go off and breed golden retrievers and they will still take eighty-five percent of the cut. This is the most restrictive, demeaning contract I’ve ever seen”—she narrows her eyes at Roger—“and that’s coming from someone who is legal counsel for a multinational bank conglomerate.”

“I don’t think you’re qualified—”

“Let me stop you right there. You don’t want to dive into this contract with me. I will spit so much legal jargon at you, your head will be spinning as I thoroughly explain how this contract is not only unfair, it’s borderline illegal.”

Roger looks at me then back at Robin. “We can get you different legal help at Elite. This woman is clearly—”

I drop the pen and shake my head. My entire hand shakes as I speak. “I’m sorry to waste your time.”

His eyes turn to slits as he snatches the contract up from the table and stuffs it in his briefcase. “Big mistake, Miles.” His charming, salesman demeanor instantly dissipates and he’s nothing but huffy and red-faced. “We won’t offer again. Big mistake.” Charging for the door, he makes sure to slam it behind him, rattling the frame.

Robin lets out a deep sigh and rises from her chair. She takes a seat next to me on the couch and pats my knee.

“Did you do that for Reese?” I ask.

“No, it was honestly a bad deal—”

“I believe you,” I say, “I mean you could’ve let me make a huge mistake. Reese told me you didn’t want us together. I figured you’d be furious when she moved—”

Robin’s bright blue eyes bulge. “She was going to move—” She stops mid-sentence and buries her face in her hands, grumbling for a moment. After a few deep breaths, she pats my knee again. “I had Reese when I was eighteen years old. Her dad had one thing on his mind—making music, partying, hooking up—he didn’t want to grow up, and not even a baby was going to change that for him.

“We were so fucking broke. My hospital bills after having Reese went to collections. I couldn’t afford formula for her, and I had creditors knocking on my door. I felt so guilty about the situation I’d brought my sweet little baby into. She didn’t deserve it. So, I worked my ass off to make sure she never had to feel as scared and unsure as I did. Then it happened. And minus the baby, with Petey, Reese fell into everything I tried to protect her from. So, I’m sorry, Miles. I see you and I see—”

“Mac.”

She nods. “He dumped me, by the way.”

“What?”

Robin nods. “When he found out about the screaming match Reese and I had, Mac kicked me out. He told me after all this time…” She trails off. “Well, it’s not important, but it made me see that while I killed myself to be a good mother to Reese, in a lot of ways, despite the drinking, DUIs, and all his reckless decisions…Mac was the better parent.” She dabs her eyes with the back of her hand. “Whew. Okay, enough of that. I came here to save you from signing your soul away. You don’t need my telenovela.”

“Thank you,” I say, patting her hand on top of mine, “for saving my ass.”

“Miles—what he said…”

I shake my head and shrug like I’m shaking off a bad soccer game. “It’s okay—”

“No, listen. If this is what you’re meant to do, there are endless opportunities. When that time comes, I’ll check your contracts and make sure no one takes advantage of you. But I believe if you keep your heart set, and your eyes fixed on what you want,” she taps her chest above her heart, “things will always fall into place exactly how they’re supposed to.”

As she says it, I search my heart. I expect to find music there, but there’s something more. Someone that takes up a lot more space than a dream of making it big.

“Does Reese know you’re here? I can go get her.”

“No, I’m going to take off. This is your guys’ big night. I don’t want to cause any strife.’” She retrieves a folded-up piece of paper from her pocket. “Will you give her this?”

Nosily, I open up the folded paper and see a print-out of a ticket for an Italian cooking class at the culinary school on Broad Street. They’ll be making wood stone margherita pizza. At the bottom of the paper Robin scribbled: Reese, I’m sorry. I still have a lot to learn too.

“Tell her it’s for Saturday night if she’s willing to meet me. I’ll be there.”

“I will.”

“Thanks.” She stands. “Break a leg out there,” she says with a big smile. “I’ll make sure to catch the next one.”

Robin leaves through the emergency exit out the back, assuming correctly that the alarm isn’t set. Popping my headphones back in, I try to calm my pre-performance jitters as I get lost in the music that I wrote…my words…my girl…

From here on out, I’m going to sing exactly the way I always intended to.

From the heart.

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