Page 8 of The Mistletoe Makeover

Jace

The log cabin is a welcome relief after spending months touring.As soon as I drop my suitcase to punch in my code for the door, the cats are already curling around my ankles, purring in approval.

“You guys miss me? Did the housekeeper take good care of you?” I scratch their heads, noticing that both cats look a little fatter since I left. Someone must be overfeeding them, although I don’t mind. As much as I hate cats, these strays have grown on me since I bought the place.

My phone buzzes in my pocket as the lock clicks open. Allan is already filling my screen with frantic messages.

Allan:Jace, I already told them you’d consider the concert. This won’t look good if you back out now before reviewing their offer.

He’s concerned about the vague message I left earlier, saying I want to cancel the meeting with the Mistletoe Festival committee. I shouldn’t have texted him my decision yet. Ever since my sales have tanked, Allan’s blood pressure has sky-rocketed. I had to force him to take a night off so he won’t have a heart attack.

The stress feels like it’s killing me, too.

All these people rely on me to feed their families, which is why I don’t want to bother with the meeting. I can’t get their hopes up when I already know I need a month off to recover from a terrible year.

As I drop my backpack on the floor, the sudden ring from my cell phone makes my shoulders tense. I don’t want to talk to Allan, who’s going to try and convince me to do this. All I want is to sink into my leather sofa for a nap.

I let out a restrained moan, then answer the call. “Listen, Allan, I haven’t signed any papers. If I back out now, they can find someone else.” I’m not in the mood to discuss my flailing career.

“But I told them you’d consider it,” Allan says. “This is only going to tarnish your reputation more if they leak it to the press that you bowed out.”

“What reputation?” I say, laughing dryly. “I thought I lost that a long time ago.”

I kick off my shoes and sink into the buttery soft sofa that faces a wall of picture windows and a view of the mountains.

After everything that’s happened in the last six months, I don’t have much of a reputation left. I’m definitely not working with that girl who’s supposed to be in charge. Besides her obvious ignorance, she admitted her motivations clearly: She’s only doing it for the money.

That’s exactly what I don’t need.Someone who’s going to use me for what I can do for them.

“This concert could help your image,” Allan explains. “No one can see you as a villain when you’re singing Christmas songs.”

A grunt escapes my lips. “I’m the villain now? Nice.”

“You lost your heartthrob status when you broke up with Ava. The press hasn’t been kind to you.”

That’s putting it mildly.My stomach squeezes. More like a dumpster fire.

“A Christmas concert is always a slam dunk for resurrecting someone’s career,” he concludes.

“But I don’t feel like celebrating. It would be fake,” I tell him. Right now, my Christmas spirit is like a truck with an empty gas tank abandoned on the side of the road. I’ve nothing left to give. “What I need is to write songs again.” But only if I can overcome my writer’s block. I haven’t written even one line for months.

“Then take January off,” he urges. “Now’s not the time to run away from your career. Christmas could be a profitable month. Use this concert to prop up your sales.”

“So you’re saying do it for the money? You know I’m not that type.” Even if that woman running this event is.

Even now, I’m regretting that Allan knows about my abysmal sales. My album sales have been plummeting, and the ugly rumors in the media about my breakup have only added fuel to the fire. My career is nosediving faster than a stalled airplane.

“I know you care more about the music than the money, Jace. But this is different. It’s an easy win for you. At least consider it,” he begs.

“I already have,” I say firmly, propping my feet up on the coffee table and taking in the stunning view of the valley outside. “My answer stands.”

Allan sighs. “One more thing. If you get musically inspired while you’re home, write a great song to get your career back on track. If it takes off, that will keep your sales steady in January when you’re off.”

If only it were that easy.

“Right now, I’d be thankful for any musical inspiration,” I say, before hanging up. Ever since I broke up with Ava, I haven’t been able to write anything.

Music has always been where I’ve found my peace. And making other people feel that way—giving them something to hang on to—is why I’ve continued making music.

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