Page 2 of Love on Tour
“It’s a good cover. Most people think I’m a dumb singer. I’m actually pretty smart.” He smiled at her.
“Then why the dumb act?”
“You’d be amazed at what people say in front of you when they think you don’t understand them,” he said.
“I bet. The executives often have bigger egos than the artists.”
“You speak the truth. You’re the plugger who found my last song, right? ‘Promises to Me.’”
Christine had always disliked the term “song plugger.” There had to be a better way to define a job where a person liaised between songwriters and artists, matching the perfect penned tune to someone who could sing it.
“Yes. That was one of the best meetings I’ve ever been in,” Christine said.
“Why’s that?”
“’Cause I knew I had the right song for you. I could feel it. And I knew I could sell you on it if given the chance to try. My job rides on me finding the perfect song for an artist. That’s a lot of pressure. But when you know, you just know.”
“You had the only song I liked. I remember listening to it and envisioning myself singing it onstage. I had to have it.”
“When you said, ‘I love it. I want it. Put it on hold for me,’ it was the best day of my career. Then you decided to make ityour next single to radio. And as we know, getting a radio hit is still the biggest thing you can do as an artist and songwriter,” Christine said.
“For sure. Radio taking it to number one makes everybody more money. And if it becomes a streaming hit, even better. You have a good ear.”
“I’ve always had a knack for it. I’m glad you think so,” Christine said.
“I told my producer, ‘That chick Kristen was the only person in the room who really got me.’”
“Christine.”
“Huh?”
“It’s Christine. Not Kristen.”
“Right. I’ll tell you what. If I win Breakthrough Video of the Year, I’ll thank you from the stage,” Austin said, giving her a thumbs-up.
“Unfortunately, I won’t see it. I’ll be in an Uber on my way home.” She frowned.
“I forgot. You don’t have a ticket.” He reached into his pocket and produced two tickets. “And I don’t have a date.” He wiggled his brows and grinned.
Christine choked. “Right.Youdon’t have a date.”
“I don’t. My sister was going to come with me, but her flight out of San Jose was delayed. I have a ticket, you need a ticket, and we have fifteen minutes until showtime. Let’s go.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. Look at me.” Austin’s gaze traveled over her broken shoe, runny makeup, and disheveled appearance.
“Yeah, you look a bit rough. How fast can you clean up?”
“I can be ready in about ten minutes,” Christine said, standing up. Then she pointed to her foot. “Other than a broken shoe.”
Austin chuckled and looked toward the rear of the bus. “Relax. Look in my back room, second closet to the left. You’ll find some women’s shoes.”
Christine raised her eyebrows before he continued.
“I entertain some ladies and sometimes clothing gets left behind.” He shrugged.
“Oh my God. Gross.”
“One woman’s gross is another woman’s awards shoes. Go find a pair that fits, go into the bathroom, straighten up your makeup, and let’s roll. Ten minutes,” Austin said.
