Page 6 of Ambiguous
“I’m sure Julian has been trying,” Sam says. While he’s addressing his boss, he’s looking at me, those Caribbean blue eyes sincere. “I imagine being creative on demand is difficult. I have an artist friend who tells me deadlines are rough.” He smiles at me, an expression that manages to be both sheepish and conciliatory at the same time. Like he’s still stressed and embarrassed but wants to do his job. “If I can help you in any way to get this project done, please let me know.”
Will his “help” be spilling things on my trousers? But that was an accident, already forgiven.
Before I can decline Sam’s offer, the boss looks at him as if he’s suggested they give up the law and start a band themselves. “Julian’s been in the business long enough to not require coddling.”
“Every artist needs support,” Sam says, flashing me another smile.
He’s supposed to be demanding I fulfill my contract, and instead he’s sticking up for me. Being kind.
I like his kindness.
Loren nods fiercely. “If you tell an artist they can’t waste time and have to create, they’ll waste even more time worrying about being creative. Jules just needs to focus on writing, and he should be able to do that now that the tour’s finished. Don’t worry.”
“Do you have a place to write?” Sam asks me.
“I have a studio at my house, yeah.”
“Is that conducive, though? Do you need to go somewhere else? A mountain cabin or—”
My heart melts. He’s being persistent in a polite way.
I like his politeness, too.
“Julian Hill doesn’t need a vacation,” Terrill barks, apparently not content to have us figure this out without his input. “He needs to get his job done.”
“But this kind of creative work is difficult, I imagine,” Sam insists. “Julian has extraordinarily high pressures because of the fans’ expectations.”
Sam’s baby face distracts me from realizing he has a backbone of steel.
If he keeps this up, he’s going to become my new favorite human being.
Sam turns to face me fully. “We represent the record company, and they’ve asked us to enforce the contract. But it seems to me that the way to achieve that isn’t with threats, it’s with encouragement.”
His boss looks disgusted, and it dawns on me that Terrill is toxic to everyone, not just those he’s supposed to yell at on behalf of his clients.
But if I’m reading Terrill right, he thinks Sam is weak because he’s not swearing at me and playing by the alpha male rule book.
Funnily enough,becauseSam’s not playing by the alpha male rule book, I’m more willing to cooperate.
I lock my gaze on his boss. “Sam’s right. I can get the job done, now that I have the right environment and incentive. I don’t want to breach the contract, and I’m not going to. Go ahead and tell Lighthouse you threatened me and I was properly contrite. I am. I’ll get cracking on the record.”
However the hell that’s going to happen.
“Excellent,” Sam says, brightening.
Loren nods. “This is a good start.” They turn to Terrill. “You don’t have to beat up artists as if they’re adversaries. You can treat them like human beings.”
Terrill still looks miffed. “Sam, monitor the situation. Mr. Hill, you need to be in contact with him on a consistent basis. We will give you Sam’s business card and expect you to send regular progress reports.”
“I’ll give Sam my mobile number,” I say. “I can just text him. What’s your number?” I catch Sam’s wide eyes and rethink this. “Or— Is that okay?”
Sam blinks at me. “Uh. Sure.” After a moment’s hesitation where he goes bright red, he recites the number. I enter it into my mobile and send him a text.
Jules: Hey
I watch him type back, and then my phone buzzes.
Sam: I received your text, Julian.
