Page 53 of One Last Verse

“In the next month or two,” he said. I heard a lick of excitement in Frank’s voice. For the first time since the accident, he sounded like himself. “We’re trying to get Gary Torino on board.”

“Really?” Linda gazed at me, looking for confirmation.

I nodded.

Gary Torino was best of the best, an industry veteran who’d produced over two hundred albums. Three quarters were platinum. Half of them sat at the very top of the Billboard chart.

Frank wanted to go all out with “Afterburn.”

“I haven’t heard it yet, and I’m already impressed.” Linda typed up some more notes.

“It’s still pretty rough,” Frank explained. He’d only attended one rehearsal, but now that he was finally on the way to recovery, three more sessions were lined up for the next couple of weeks.

“Can you guarantee Billboard?” Brooklyn barked from her spot.

I could almost taste her annoyance. It plagued the air like the smell of rotting leftovers.

Linda flashed a cunning smile and the spark in her eyes told me she was going to make it happen. Despite the fact that there were no guarantees in this business. Never. “We can probably try for a Grammy nomination as well.”

“I like that!” Frank beamed. It was a magazine cover-worthy grin. I hadn’t seen him this fired up in weeks. He was riding the high of anticipation, and I was hoping it would make him change his mind and give up the idea of the lawsuit.

“Do you have any questions, Frank?” Linda asked.

“I think you answered them all.” When he stood, she did too, and they shook hands.

“I’ll have my girls start on the proposal today, and we’ll send it over to Brooklyn as soon as it’s ready.” Linda slammed her MacBook shut and slipped it into her bag. “As always, it’s a pleasure, Frank.”

“Pleasure is mine.” He grinned.

“I’ll walk you out,” I offered and rose from my chair. Brooklyn’s unhappy growl behind my back was the last thing I heard as I left the den.

“He looks good,” Linda noted as we made our way over to her SUV parked in the driveway. She pulled the door open and tossed her bag on the passenger seat. “How’s his shoulder?”

“Better. He’s seeing a doctor in a couple of days. So we’ll know more then.”

The January sun was perched high in the sky, its rays glittering in the generous falls of the fountain water. The light breeze that danced across my cheeks was soft and cool, typical for a Southern California winter.

“Any news on the replacement singer?” I asked carefully, my voice almost a whisper. Not that anyone could hear us. Frank’s yard was the size of my entire apartment complex. “Off the record, of course.”

“Management is in talks with a few candidates right now. I’m sure you understand these are some big shoes to fill.” Linda narrowed her eyes and inched closer. “Looks like it’s going to be either Marshall Burns or Joel Frederick.”

“Really?Frederick?” I tried to hold the sudden rush of anxiety at bay. “He can’t hold a note long enough for the crowd to hear it.”But he’s a great showman.

“He had vocal cord surgery last summer.”

“He did?”

“His team just wanted to keep it under wraps while he was in recovery. I heard he nailed all theHollow Heart Dreamsongs during his audition.”

“Shit.”

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone. Not even Frank.”

“Of course. You have my word.”

“It’s up to Dante to choose who he wants to play with anyway, and my gut tells me he’ll go with Marshall. He’s a bit more down to earth and easier to work with.”

“Is it bad I want this tour to flop?”

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