Page 125 of On the Power Play

"Delia! My girl! I'm assuming you got the memo about the drop."

She forced a shallow breath. "Yeah, I did. I was just listening to it with Mary. I think there's been a mistake though. My vocals are off."

He grunted. "They sound perfect to me."

"No, sorry, the lyrics. We rewrote them, and?—"

"Ah, right. Ethan submitted that, but I asked for the originals we'd initially approved."

Delia's pulse thudded against her temples. "Did you listen to the new ones?"

"I did, and while they were excellent, we didn't feel they were on-brand."

She clutched the phone so tightly, she thought the case might crack. She wanted to scream. To quit. To do anything but sit there in the booth and pretend she wasn't shrivelling up and dying on the inside.

Christian shuffled something on his desk. "Streaming numbers are through the roof. It's out-performing the first hour of any of your recent singles, so give yourself a huge pat on the back. We're thrilled with all the work you and Tony have done on this. I know there's only more to come."

More to come. Meaning more songs she didn't care about. A breakup she had zero desire to follow through with. More to come. It sounded like a death sentence.

"Listen, Delia, I've got to run, but let's get together once you're back in Toronto. I've got some ideas for your next single."

Delia thanked him—thanked him—and ended the call. What the hell was wrong with her? She had a contract with IndieLake. She'd just gotten off the phone with one of the country's most celebrated music producers, her first ever positive royalty statement was probably going to land in her inbox within a month, and she was a household name across Canada. She'd even seen her account tagged on radio stations and news outlets in California and Colorado. She had everything she wanted. And here she was about to cry in a booth because of some damn lyrics.

"What did he say?" Mary searched her face.

"Just that they thought the original lyrics were more on-brand." Delia bit the inside of her cheek. She would not make this about her. Mary had tromped around Alberta with her for weeks and she was finally sitting here having a nice breakfast with Alvin. On the other side of the booth, Jack was less than a day out from an NHL playoff loss and he hadn't complained once. Granted, they'd been doing plenty to keep his mind off it, but still.

She had to figure out how to be a better friend, and that started now.

"Delia, I'm so sorry, I know how?—"

Delia held up a hand, cutting Mary off. "Nope. Totally fine. The song is doing great, so I'm not even going to worry about it." Mary blinked, and Delia didn't give her time to comment on how this was disturbingly out of character. "How was your night?"

Mary raised an eyebrow. "I could ask you the same thing."

"But you won't because we're in a public place." Delia kissed her cheek and stood.

"You found your bag, I assume? Since you're wearing one of the outfits I packed for you?"

She nodded. "Yep, and it's perfect. You're amazing, Mary. Thank you." Delia left Mary with a befuddled look on her face and scooted back into the booth next to Leslie and across from Jack.

"You good?" Jack asked, concern etched in his expression.

Delia took a forkful of hash and nodded. "Mmhmm. Good!" It was too chipper, and Jack was immediately skeptical.

"Sounded like you were talking to someone."

She nodded. "Yep, just my producer. But I want to hear the rest of your mom’s story."

Leslie looked pleased and dove back in where she'd left off. Jack wasn't fooled. He reached under the table and put a hand on her knee, swirling his thumb over her skin. She reached down and held it, giving him a squeeze. They sat like that while she finished her food and the waitress brought their check. Marc insisted on paying, which both warmed her heart and made her wildly uncomfortable. Less so since she knew she wasn't fully lying to them about her intentions with their son.

They exited the restaurant, stopping at a few tables to greet fans on the way out. Jack was more popular with the brunch-goers, but Delia winced every time they mentioned how thrilled they were that Edmonton won while complimenting him on his game play. They were about to duck into the car with Mary and Alvin when Jack stopped her.

"I have to get to the arena for a team meeting. I'm going to catch a ride with my parents."

"You're not practising are you?"

Jack shook his head. "No, just game strategy. Then I'll be back at the hotel." He handed her a key. "If you want to meet me?"

---