Page 75 of Perfect Pitch

“‘Where have you been all my life, #DJKensington?’” I read from Viego Martinez.

“‘#DJKensington makes my girl parts quiver. Only @BeckettMiller has been able to do that.’ Oh god. That’s Sexy and Social.”

Then I see it. “Oh. My. God.”

#DJKensington redeemed us all last night. I wonder if she’d mind if I snuck into her booth for a duet. It would be my honor. #africa #vivalafrance #whoa—Erzulie

I scream. “Holy crap! Erzulie was there? She’s posting about me?”

Then I hear a frantic, “Austyn? What is it?”

I leap from my bed to dash into the living room. Immediately, I begin sharing, “Mama! I’m in all the news feeds. People loved the show last night!” I wave my phone at her as if she could read it without her glasses on.

Her hand clasps the back of the sofa as she visibly relaxes. “I thought you were being stabbed.”

“No, that would be a different kind of screaming.” Feeling magnanimous, I offer, “I could demonstrate.”

“Please don’t. I think this hotel is lovely and would like to stay in it a few more nights.”

I open my mouth to tell her I’m certain they’ve heard worse when a text from Mitch comes in.

It’s a picture of Trevor’s foot and crutches. Still irritated, all I write back is,

Austyn:

Crap.

Mitch:

Beats, I’ll call you when I’m done with work.

By then, I’ll be in full swing at Redemption, so I have a bit of a reprieve until I see him.

“What is it?” my mother probes.

“You know the guy who was checking my sound last night? Trevor?”

“I met about eighty new people yesterday, Austyn.”

“Fair point. My roommate. He was the guy walking around the club with the mic making sure the sound was good from random locations. If it was off, I could adjust it from the booth.”

A frown mars her forehead. “Yes. Now I recall him. What’s wrong.”

“Slipped off the sidewalk this morning when he was trying to read the reviews. Ankle’s jacked. He’s at Urgent Care. I bet I can’t find anyone who can do that at such short notice.” I add a note of wheedling in my voice.

My mother rolls her eyes at me before she makes her way over to the drawer holding the room service menu. “Is he professionally trained?”

“No. Just a friend helping out. The software is a lot like your... Mama!” I inject a note of surprise into my voice.

But my mother is no one’s fool. She stops me cold. “No. Anything is a no before coffee. You know better than that.”

I take the room service menu from her hands and drop it back into the drawer. “Then let me take you to breakfast and then I’ll ask.”

Thankfully, it took little convincing to have my audiologist mother saying yes.

And me filled with excitement for the night to come.

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