Page 52 of Chronicles of a Rockin' Mess

She closes her eyes for a moment, and when she re-opens them, she looks determined. She pushes her bag to the side and sits down next to me, placing her hands in her lap. She looks up at me under her thick lashes, and it takes all my willpower not to kiss her.

She takes a deep breath before speaking. “Roger Shapiro is what’s up,” she says.

My mind takes a moment to wrap around her statement. “You spoke with Roger Shapiro?” I ask her. I scan my memory because I’m pretty sure she mentioned he was one of the recording douchebags that turned her down when I interviewed her for the PA position four years ago. In the music industry, one doesn’t forget a name like Roger Shapiro.

She nods and takes another deep breath. “He found me after we played and wants me to call him this week for a meeting,” she says.

“Lark…that’s great,” I say, honestly excited for her.

She shrugs.

“You don’t think that’s great?” I ask, bewildered. Most musicians would give their left arm to meet with him and to have another chance with him, well, that’s unheard of. She must have blown him away, just like she blew me away with her talent.

“I…know I should be excited, honored even. I know. But I guess my pride is still hurt from the ninety seconds he gave me last time I met him. He…crushed my dreams,” she says, the last phrase a mere whisper. I can see her fighting tears, and it breaks my motherfucking heart. It also makes me feel like the biggest asshole in the world because I’m pretty sure I also broke her heart just like this twat waffle did.

I swallow before speaking again. “You gave me a second chance,” I offer.

She’s quiet for a long moment, considering what I’ve said. “I guess I did, but that’s different. Maybe you were a fucking dick before, but you at least gave me a chance,” she points out.

“True…on both points,” I say to her. She half-smiles at that, and I grin back at her like a fool. “But…I mean, maybe you should at least give him a chance. People change…” I add, trailing off because I’m pretty sure I’m just talking about myself now.

“You think I should?” she asks.

“Yes. Roger isn’t a bridge you want to burn. He could literally make all your career dreams come true,” I point out. “I’ll come with you if you want.” I have met Roger before at parties. He’s a typical record exec, he’s a bit swarmy, but I hear if he likes you, he will kill for you.

“You need an agent,” I add.

Her eyes grow big and she points to herself. “Me?”

I laugh. “Yes, you. Let’s call Gwen,” I say to her.

Her nose wrinkles. “Uh…” she starts but doesn’t finish her thought.

I laugh out loud. “I’ve been wondering about that for years. So, you don’t like her?” I ask. She shakes her head and shrugs. I tap my jaw thinking.

“Hold on,” I say as I pull out my phone and dial Celia.

“Hey!” I say.

“Hey, how are you?” she answers.

“Good, I have a favor to ask,” I say to her.

“Is it about a certain someone?” she asks. I groan.

“Not now, I need the name of that agent friend of yours, Tiffany Reiser?” I say, cutting her off before she says something loud enough that Lark can hear.

“Oh…uh, sure. Just a second…OK…sending her contact stuff to you,” she says.

“Awesome,” I say. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing. We should catch up soon,” she says.

“Absolutely, I’ll call you back later,” I say to her as I hang up. Then I call Tiffany. After a brief discussion with her assistant, I have a meeting set up for Lark the next day.

“OK, tomorrow, I’m taking you to meet a friend of Celia’s, Tiffany. She’s a great agent, and I think she’ll be just your type,” I say as though I’m some sort of agent-musician match.com.

“OK, tomorrow, I’m taking you to meet a friend of Celia’s, Tiffany. She’s a great agent, and I think she’ll be just your type. Do you have a recording that I can send over to her?” I say as though I’m some sort of agent-musician match.com.

---