Page 92 of Heart Strings
Chapter 39
Aidan
If Cielo canface potential cancer while barely flinching, I can surely sever ties with my record label. I have the realization as I stare at her gorgeous face on the exam table, my heart full.
Before I became a full-time musician, I worked with some damn good solicitors—one of them should be able to help me negotiate buying out my contract without destroying my professional reputation or going destitute in the process. Paying back my advance and penalties is a certainty, though, meaning I won’t be able to help my parents again for a while. But I know they’d want me to stand up and keep my integrity, just like Lo does.
My phone buzzes on the little counter next to the examination table where Lo is still resting after her procedure.
Her eyes dart to mine. “Gonna answer that?”
It’s probably Martin calling to convince me I’ve made the biggest mistake of my career and that he’s the only one who can guide me to the next step of success now. No thank you to that conversation.
When I pull my phone out, Nigel Culpepper’s name is on the screen instead.
“Babe,” Lo says softly when she reads it. “Pick up your phone.”
“He’s probably only calling to yell at me.”
Noisy paper crumples under her as she takes the device from my hand and places it between us. It vibrates one more time. Getting my hopes up is terrifying—but I’d done just that with Lo and been rewarded. I brace myself.
She taps to pick up on speaker and my heart races as it clicks on.
“You canceled our meeting today,” Nigel says abruptly.
Nohello,no confirming that it’s me. The pause afterward is expectant, and I wonder if he’s waiting for me to profusely apologize and beg for a second chance. I won’t. There’s only one person worth doing that for.
Clearing my throat, I respond, “Yes. I apologize for the inconvenience. A personal emergency came up. I had to travel to Galway today on short notice.”
“You don’t write bullshit. And I don’t produce bullshit. So don’t give me bullshit.”
Cielo’s brows silently jump. People have warned me he’s blunt. Fine. I can be, as well.
“I couldn’t be there today because someone I love, the person I wrote those songs about, needed me,” I explain. “You’re right. You don’t produce bullshit and I don’t write it. The songs on the demo I sent over come from something real. A real person I couldn’t abandon in her time of need.”
A pause settles on the line between us. Lo doesn’t move. I don’t move.
“I’ve chosen not to work with bigger artists than you for far less.”
“I understand. I won’t apologize for going to the love of my life’s biopsy appointment.” I squeeze Lo’s hand.
“It’s the selfishness of this industry that makes me picky about who I interact with. My time is too precious to suffer wankers with their heads up their own asses.”
Nigel misunderstands me, then. But I’ve said my piece, consequences be damned.
“I liked the demo,” he finally adds. For the first time since our conversation began, I feel like I can suck in half a breath. “There’s something special here.”
Lo’s eyes sparkle. She’s inspired all my best work, and this is no exception. She brings out the best in me.
“When can you get here for us to start working on this album?” he asks.
An incredulous gasp leaves my chest, but I don’t know what to tell him. I won’t leave Lo when she needs me the most. Worry replaces that twinkle in her eye. This answer will be what decides it.
“That all depends on her test results.”
Her eyes pinch closed, and she squeezes my hand back.
“Good on you,” Nigel says. “How about you have your manager call me when you know?”
