Page 15 of Places I've Never Been

Frustration bubbled. “Mark Serano did the same thing, except he didn’t wait for me to finish the song before he started pushing me for sex.”

Kat held up a finger. “Don’t forget Roger Cruise. And Bishop Keller. Oh, and Greg Nelson. I still get emails from all of them. Bishop called last week to ask if you were available for another project.”

Mattie stiffened. She liked Bishop, but not that way. He was a nice guy, full of down-to-earth charm and honest to a fault, but too, well, boring for her tastes. “What did you say?”

“I told him you were already committed.” Kat winked.

Mattie rolled her eyes and leaned back in the chair. “I’m done working with men. They can’t separate the feelings in the song from actual feelings for a real live person.”

Kat bit her lip. “Yeah. About that.”

“What?” Mattie narrowed her eyes at her. “There’s more, isn’t there.”

Kat flinched. “After he called you out a few times without an answer he went on to say other things.”

“Should I go look?”

“No.” Kat shook her head. “Definitely not. But here’s the thing. He’s claiming he wrote the songs, and you’re trying to steal credit.”

Mattie blinked. She couldn’t have heard that right. “Say that again?”

Kat lit another cigarette. “It’s complete bullshit, of course. We have a contract, and it stipulates that your name be on the jacket as cowriter. If he tries to bypass that we’ll definitely sue.”

Mattie picked up one of her notebooks and thumbed through it. All the scribbled verses, jumbled captions, and doodles were proof she’d written the lyrics on Devon’s new hit. Except nobody ever saw these notebooks on Twitter, and it wasn’t like they announced the songwriter on the radio. “Think I should call him out on his bullshit? Maybe post pictures of my notes?”

“No, sweetie. Don’t take the bait.” Kat held up her iPad. “Thing is, I got an email this morning that makes this a bigger deal than it should be. The song’s been submitted for a Grammy. Best Pop Solo Performance.”

“Not song?”

Kat tossed her iPad aside. “No, hun. Sorry.”

Mattie sipped her tea while she absorbed the implications of that. “So not only did the label submit in a way that basically ignores me, but now Devon’s on Twitter calling me a fake?”

Kat took a long drag of her cigarette. “They can’t ignore you completely. Like I said, your name’s on the jacket. But if it wins he doesn’t have to acknowledge you and from the looks of things, he definitely won’t.”

Mattie swore. “I knew he was pissed off when I told him I wasn’t interested in a relationship, but this is unbelievable. What a spiteful little weasel! This sucks.”

“Yes, it does.” Kat flicked ashes off the end of her cigarette.

Mattie shook her head in disbelief. “I’ve been writing songs since I was old enough to hold a crayon, but my name’s nowhere.”

“Plenty of people know what you mean to music, Mattie, and everyone knows he’s full of shit.”

“Do they really? I mean, when someone says Bellamy who do you think of first?”

“You, honey. Always.” Kat puffed out smoke.

“You have to say that. I meant you in the collective sense. I was never the face. Never the one in front. So when you think of a Bellamy song, you think Della or Piper. Not me. I mean, we won a few awards as a group but never Song of the Year. The way things are going now, I’m never going to win anything, because I’m not performing them myself, and I’m not signed with a label. Of course they back their own artist, and not me. I’m basically invisible.”

“Sweetie, you’ve never been invisible.” Kat tamped out her cigarette and picked up a mug. “But I get your point. You do need some visibility, and an award would give you that. If you don’t get back with your sisters, have you given any thought to going solo yourself?”

Her gut churned at the idea. “No. I’m done with that. I’m done with all of it.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes I do. The well’s dry. I don’t have any songs left in me. Maybe I’ll pull a Della and go move in with Lizzie to help run the inn. It’s really peaceful up there.”

“I guess that means you wouldn’t be interested in a new project.” Kat looked far too coy, and her tone was carefully casual.

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