Page 131 of When I Picture You
Fresh tears spilled down Cassidy’s cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done it, but she said you could be in trouble.”
“It’s okay,” Lola said. She hugged Cassidy tight. “This isn’t your fault.”
“Am I fired?” Cassidy sniffed.
“No. You’re not.”
LOLA BIDED HERtime, though not because she expected Gloriana to correct her mistake and send the song to Jamie.
Lola had known immediately what she wanted to do, like a lump of lead in her belly. That certainty felt unfamiliar. She called Claudia to talk it all through, though as usual, her sister only ever encouraged her to follow her own heart. She talked to Tatiana, who had professional insight to share, and a satisfying string of profanity. Still, Lola had never made a decision this huge without talking to Gloriana first. It felt strange and scary to act on her own—but that didn’t mean it wasn’t right.
Lola also waited because she had a lot of planning to do. Cassidy, who knew a lot about the music industry and had apparently been underutilized coordinating the dry cleaning, helped. Lola made calls to her accountant and her lawyers, people she hadn’t spoken with directly in years. She even wrote the start of a new song—her first female empowerment anthem.
Part of Lola wished Renee could see her now. Those final words—that she wanted her to stop saying she’d do anything that Renee wanted—still scalded like a fresh burn. But Renee had been right.
As Lola’s car pulled up to Gloriana’s office, Cassidy—clutching her phone with her usual intensity, but with an added dose of impish excitement—said, “Ready?”
Lola nodded.
Cassidy’s fingers flew over the screen as she changed the password and email contact for Lola’s Instagram account. “Done. The commsteam won’t have access now, but the account might get locked. Here, you should do it.”
Cassidy held out the phone to Lola. The post was queued up. All Lola had to do was hit share.
A satisfied grin spread over Lola’s face. She tapped the button, then stepped out of the car and into the hardest conversation of her life.
THE ELEVATOR DOORSopened onto a large silver Christmas tree decorated with ornaments representing the agency’s clients. Lola spotted her face bobbing on a branch and, on impulse, yanked it off.
“Ms. Gray!” The receptionist choked a little on his iced coffee. “I didn’t know you were coming in—”
Lola didn’t force herself to smile. It felt good. “I need to see Gloriana. Now.”
The receptionist clicked frantically around his screen. “She’s in a meeting—”
“I’ll wait in her office while you pull her out. I know the way.”
Lola headed down the hall, half expecting the receptionist to stop her. But of course he didn’t. She was Lola fucking Gray.
A few minutes later, Gloriana strode through the glass door of her office. “Lola, what a nice surprise!”
Lola had seated herself on the couch and didn’t rise to cheek kiss Gloriana as she normally would have. Gloriana stood awkwardly for a second, then sat opposite Lola.
Lola gave Gloriana a tight smile. “What did Jamie say about the song?”
“Lola, honey, you didn’t have to come down here for that. I know you’ve been having a hard time.” Gloriana’s tone was laden with the affected sympathy that Lola had always misconstrued for the real thing.
“That’s true,” Lola said. “Yet here I am.”
Gloriana pressed her hands together thoughtfully. “Jamie liked the song. Anyone would—it’s fantastic. But he had reservations about some of the lyrics and how they’d be interpreted, and whether that interpretation is consistent with the Lola Gray image.”
“How so?”
“Well, we were hoping the fans would understand that these songs are about Nash, and some of these lyrics don’t make sense for him. Like this line about yourlove interestwearing your shirt.”
“The song’s not about Nash.”
“Exactly,” Gloriana said as if Lola had agreed with her. “With a few tweaks to the lyrics, they’ll really love it. I have a list somewhere here of the lines to change. The label is fine with you taking more time. I have that sorted already.”
“Gloriana,” Lola said heavily. “I’m not changing my lyrics because you don’t like them.”
