Page 22 of Mr. Not Nice Guy

There’s a message from her, and also about a dozen from August, none of which I have bothered to read.

Nurse Antoinette: Finally got it all fixed up. Will be there in 15. So sorry again.

Scarlett Theriot: No worries. See you soon.

Tossing down the phone, I start to leave the room when it starts ringing.

I pause because I know it’s August calling, and I consider not answering. But then again, I’m basically a no-call-no-show, so the most basic common courtesy necessitates that I pick up.

I swipe the screen and lift the phone to my ear, then answer with a deadpan, “Hello.”

“Scarlett,” he hisses, voice low. I know he’s either outside of the building or hiding in an office so nobody can hear him. What I’ve learned about August in the month that I’ve known him is that he’s two-faced. He’s a dick to me when nobody’s around, but one-hundred-percent Mr. Nice Guy whenever we’re around his colleagues. “Where the fuck are you? You’reforty-five—”

“Go fuck yourself, August,” I clip, and then I end the call. Crossing the room to pick up my purse off the rickety floorboards, I dig through it until I find the business card Brennan gave me on the first night I encountered these people. After squinting through August’s scribble-job over the phone number, I dialhim.

“Brennan Riley,” he answers, warm, cordial, polite, and with all the damn manners that August never has with me.

“Hi, Brennan, it’s Scarlett.”

“Oh. Hey.” There’s a pause. “Is everything all right? August said you were supposed to be in the studio today.”

“Actually, I’m having a little bit of an emergency, and I was wondering if Liza’s around.”

“Oh,” he says again, and then there’s a sound of footsteps like he’s crossing the room. “Yeah, she’s right here.”

After another pause and a bit of muffled conversation, Liza’s always-pleasant voice comes over the line. “Hey, hon.” Liza issofreaking nice, and I really like her. “What’s going on?”

“Hi, Liza. I…um…” I aimlessly drift my gaze as the simple kindness in her voice causes a lump of frustration and anguish over Maw-Maw’s deteriorating state to surge to the top of my throat. “I know I’m supposed to be there…” My voice comes out as a squeak. “And I’ll be there soon, but—”

“Oh my gosh,” she says, her voice suddenly full of urgency. “What’s wrong, honey? You sound like you’ve been crying.”

“I’m just having a little family emergency.”

“Do you need help? I can come help with whatever it is. I don’t mind.”

“No, I…” I draw in a breath and lower my voice. “My grandmother has some health issues, and her nurse got a flat this morning, but she’s on her way. I was really tied up with taking care of things here, which is why I couldn’t call.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay!” she says with so much freaking compassion that I could actually cry right now. “Do you want to talk to August really quick? He just stepped outside for a second.”

“No…that’s okay.” I pause as I rake my hand through the short-as-fuck red curls he forced me to get because he’s a vindictive asshole. “I don’t really feel comfortable…you know…talking to him about this stuff.”

“Really?” I can practically see her squinting in confusion. “He’s your manager. You guys need to be close enough that you can feel comfortable telling him anything.”

“Yeah…I mean, I guess…I guess we’re just not there yet.” I pause again and then lower my voice to a near-whisper. “I really don’t think we’re a good fit for each other, and I honestly don’t know if he’s going to keep me on.”

There’s an even longer pause and then the sound of high heels knocking on hardwood before a door closes. “Okay, Scarlett, listen. I don’t know what’s going on or what anyone’s told you, but please understand, it’s nothiscall to keep you on or not. It’s ultimatelymycall or Jimmy’s call. Beyond that, there’s always an adjustment period to building a relationship between an artist and a manager. Y’all are still getting to know each other, and great music is built on passion, so it’s normal to butt heads sometimes. It can be frustrating, but that’s not something that would cause us to let you go. We believe in you, and you’re not in danger of losing this contract, so please don’t worry about that. Especially if you’re looking after your grandmother. Family is far more important than work, and this kind of work has all the flexibility in the world because the most important thing to Jimmy has always been running this label like a family. Okay? We will make sure it’s flexible so you can take care of what matters most.”

I roll my eyes becauseI was right. August is full of shit. He’s basically been lying to me about his ability to terminate my contract, and that simultaneously pisses me off and validates me. But I’m too upset and stressed over Maw-Maw to even care that much right now.

I nod and force myself to swallow the lump. “Okay. Thanks.”

“And you know what?” She sighs. “Don’t worry about trying to come record today, okay? We can wait a day without it disrupting anything, and I doubt you’re in the right frame of mind to perform anyway.”

“Oh.” It’s tempting, but I don’t want to run with the inch she’s giving me right now. I still don’t know a lot about the label’s internal dynamics, so I don’t want this to come back and bite me in the ass, despite how nice she’s being about it. Besides, I don’t need to give August any additional ammo to use against me. “No, I’ll be there. Her nurse is really good, and this is all really important to me.”

“Are you sure? It’s completely understandable.” She sighs again. “Lord knows everyone at this label has had more than their fair share of crises that have disrupted work. We always get through it. We’ll get through this, too.”

“I’m sure. But I really do appreciate it, Liza.”

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