Page 43 of Out of Tune
Our lunch turns into an early dinner as we attempt to cover the last ten years in a single afternoon. At first, the wait staff eyes us but after I hand over an extra two hundred, they leave us alone.
Eventually, we do leave because Lydia has plans to meet up with another client, a promising young rapper she swears will be everywhere in the next year. It’s good to see her and her businessthriving. After I sign for the bill, she drives me back to my hotel since it’s on the way to where she’s headed.
“There’s one last thing—Wesley. How are you two really? I’m assuming you two aren’t in the midst of a torrid love affair?” she asks with all the intensity of someone who witnessed the events as they happened and comforted me in the wreckage.
“He wishes.” I huff. “We’re cordial? At the very least, on speaking terms.”
“Not friends?” she pushes, weaving across three lanes to take our exit.
“There’s a long way to go before I’d consider that. And honestly, if everything goes well with this tour I won’t have to deal with him ever again.”
Though, I’m not sure how true that is. It’s an exercise in restraint to not message him. Replying to him over Christmas? That was a gift for me. Because after I got off that stage, I had to go home alone to an apartment I didn’t even bother decorating.
“Explain.”
“You remember how I used my inheritance to produce my debut album?”
“How one day you had no deal and zero dollars to your name?”
“I had more than that,” I protest.
“And the next, millions. Yeah, that rings a bell.”
“To access it, there was a condition I needed Wes’s help to meet.”
“You’re not telling me.”
“We took a trip to a little white chapel, and he’ll only sign the divorce papers once the tour is over.”
The car pulls to a stop under the awning of the hotel’s entrance. She releases the wheel and leans all the way back in her seat as she digests my confession.
“Well, fuck.” She cocks her head as her lips tip into a smile. “Working with you never gets boring, does it?”
“You know you missed it.”
“Fine. I did.”
I exit the car and ride the elevator to the floor Kendal is staying on so I can learn more about the new producer she texted me about.
But before I do that, there’s someone I want to talk to first. The one person who would understand what a reconciliation with Lydia means to me.
He picks up on the first ring. “Is everything okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” I ask, watching the elevator numbers light up as the cabin climbs higher.
“Because the only scenarios I can imagine calling me for are apocalyptic at best.”
“Is that why you answered so quickly? It sounds like you’re at the venue.”
“Yeah, final rehearsal. But I have your number set to a specific ringtone, so I told them to take a break.”
Is he saying that he only picked up because it’s me? What an idiot.
“It’s not the end of the world. Actually, it’s good news.” I catch a warped reflection of myself grinning like a fool in the polished elevator walls. There’s something about telling someone about good news that makes it better.
“Don’t leave me hanging.”
“I met with Lydia and she’s willing to put up with me again.”
