Page 109 of A Country Kind Of Love
“Open it,”Shonda says.
“Is this the CD?” There’s a note taped to the inside of the plastic case. Peyton readsit out loud.
“You told me you’d help me achieve my dreams. Promise me one day you’ll give Peyton the opportunity she deserves, because my dream is for her dreams tocome true.”
Peyton’s hand goes to her mouth. It’s her mom’s handwriting; she would recognise it anywhere. The way she swirls the bottom of the letterLand dots herI’s with tiny round circles rather thansimple dots.
“It was the last interaction I had with your mom. She sent me that small piece of paper; that’s all it read. Some years later, when I heard of her passing I found it buried in a box of things. I felt this urge to keep it with me, and I haveever since.”
It’s a lot to process. Peyton feels blindsided. “I can’t believe this. Is that the only reason you’re signing me? You feel sorry for me?” She shutsthe CD case.
“No.” Shonda reaches to take the brown envelope from her grasp. “I made your mom a promise, but until I saw you perform at the Bluebird with Cleo, I didn’t realise how easy it was going to be to keep it.” Shonda gestures. “Look around you, Peyton. This is not a game. In this building people’s dreams are made, but they’re also crushed. I won’t take a chance on someone just because they’re an old friend’s child. I would have no credibility in this business if that were my strategy.” Shehad a point.
“Thenwhat is it?”
“You have something special. There’s a naivety about you that we need to work on, but your talent speaks for itself. I never came looking for you, Peyton. I didn’t drive to California and hunt you down because your mom asked me to. You came to Nashville. You pursued this career, and you ended up on my doorstep because you feel it deep in your soul, just like she did.” Shonda sits next to Peyton on the sofa. “You look just likeher y’know?”
Peyton smiles through her tears. “I miss her.”
“I know sweety,” Shonda whispers. The hard exterior has cracks, and Peyton can see why her mom would’ve liked Shonda. “What do you say we go makeher proud?”
Peyton nods and it seals the deal. She’s always been afraid of losing her mom to music. If she pursued her dreams, she would lose a part of her that was sacred to them. For many years she thought she had to choose between the two. It never occurred to her that her mom’s dream was to see Peyton live her dream. In one way or another she still can.
?
The sofa in Shonda’s office is now a preferred seat of Peyton’s. It’s where the majority of their meetings take place. Do most artists spend a significant amount of time in the general manager’s office? Probably not, but Shonda insists, and she is the boss. Peyton is thankful for her guidance. She doesn’t want to have her dream handed to her on a silver platter, and Shonda is a good mentor. Peyton has been working as hard as any other artist, from long hours in the recording studio, to early morning meetings with promotions managers and frequent zoom meetings with the director of publicity.
It’s been a month since Peyton and Cleo officially signed the contracts. The recorded version of “The Luckiest Hand” was locked and loaded within the first few weeks. After that it went to radio stations around the country, and they launched their official Spotify channel. It showcases the cover shot for their single, and Peyton feels good about it.
A week ago, Shonda insisted Peyton and Cleo would need a social media manager. The next day, in walked Marisa wearing Prada trainers and a purple double-denim co-ord. She came equipped with a pair of air pods in her ears, headphones around her neck, a MacBook in her hands, three cell phones, and an iPad. The number of technological devices looked exhausting to Peyton, never mind actuallyusing them.
Marisa isn’t great with greetings. Cleo thinks she’s socially awkward, which is interesting considering she’s a social media manager.
“Your romantic interest isfront page.”
“Seriously?”Peyton says.
“Yep, you’re trending on Twitter,” Marisa adds. “I have a Google alert set up for your names; you should do the same... or maybe not. The internet can be mean.”
“Yeah, I’ll pass.”Cleo admits.
“As if they’d ever say anything bad about you.” Peyton says. She leans over and kisses Cleo softly on the lips. There’s a flash that kills the sweetness ofthe moment.
Marisa smirks. “What? The fans willlove this.”
“What fans?” The last time Peyton checked she had five thousand followers, which was a hike from her pre-recording contract total of two thousand five hundred. Nobody cares that she has the same breakfast every single day, or that she religiously watchesCarolevery Sunday morning when she’s hungover, because that’s her comfort film. She has an unhealthy crush on Cate Blanchett, okay?
“You’ve reached seventeen times more accounts in this past week compared to your weekly average. Your insights are all trending up, and your account engagement is through the roof.” She pulls that information from one of her threecell phones.
“I have no idea what any of that means.” Peyton shrugs.
“For someone in their mid-twenties you act forty. In the simplest of terms, you’ve gained eighty-nine thousand followers.” Marisa flicks from the phone with the grey back to the one with the blue back.
Peyton chokes. “Eighty-nine thousand? You’re joking? How? Why?” She can only assume it’s another one of Marisa’s pranks.
“I don’t joke about statistics. Do you want my professional reporter version, orthe truth?”
“Both,”Peyton says.
