Page 23 of Grave Misgivings
“Fine.”
I lean one arm on my windowsill while I palm the steer wheeling, focusing on the drive ahead as Katy texts on her phone.
“What’s up?” I ask, raising an eyebrow because I can see she’s pretty focused, and usually, she’s talking my ear off the minute I pick her up.
Technically, I don’t need a manager anymore. I’m a one man act, and as such, I like to be in control of where I play, what I play, and what I write.
After Geo left, that was it. His mother was pissed; hell, we all were.
But I was just the guitarist then, and I didn’t want to perform anything without him. Eventually, his mother picked up other acts over the years.
Katy was the only one who listened to all my stupid, heartbroken songs then. She was the only one I played for, and finally, after years of playing for her, one day at college, she told me she’d booked me a gig.
Now, she’s more like my assistant than a manager. She runs my booth, posts on social media, and sometimes, she even buys me coffee.
Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without her, sometimes.
“Mom said Cora Cozette canceled last minute because she lost her voice,” she says, looking up at me with a grin.
I raise my eyebrow. “And that’s good?” I ask, a little dumbfounded because usually, when someone is sick, that isn’t smile-worthy.
“Um... yeah, Zeb. She was headlining, so...”
I pull through the Starbucks drive-thru, rattling off Katy’s usual grande oatmilk mocha and my usual nitro cold brew. When I pull through to the window, she smugly responds, “Mom said she talked to the event coordinator and nowyou’reheadlining.”
My blood heats at her words.
Headlining? Me?
I can’t hide my shock. Partly because, well, it’s a reach even for her.
Debbie Graves barely acknowledges that Ihavea music career, despite the fact we see her and her new protégés all the time on the circuit.
“Is this a trick?” I glance at her, knowing the doubt is written on my face.
Katy shakes her head as the attendant hands us our drinks through the window and I give her my payment card.
Katy smirks at me. “Thought you were a starving artist,” she touts, taking a sip of her drink.
The woman hands me back my card and I thank her.
“That was earlier. Now I’m a headliner,” I say with a grin. “Besides, I told you, I’m a gentleman.”
Katy laughs, and I can’t help but laugh, too.
“More like a gentle giant, but I’ll take it,” she says, and I can’t help but laugh, too.
“We should put some glitter on you, too,headliner,” she teases.
I nod. “Sure. Go for it.”
It wouldn’t be the first time, that’s for sure. Katy’s been dolling me up for years for events.
I don’t miss the excitement in her voice. “Yes! You’re going to dazzle them all, darling.”
Maybe today won’t be so bad after all.
The crowdat the festival was a lot bigger than I anticipated, but I’m sure it’s nothing compared to what Geo is used to.
