“Like giving it marks out of ten? What does input look like?”
“Can you imagine?” he asks, pulling me closer and pressing a kiss on the top of my head. “Me holding up numbers one to ten, depending on whether I like a track.”
I laugh.
“I don’t think that would go down well. Not because what she’s doing isn’t good, but…”
“Your artist is a woman?” I ask. “I don’t know why, but I expected it to be a man.”
“Yeah. She’s here with her husband and child.” He says it quickly and reassuringly, like he doesn’t want me to think there’s potentially another woman in the picture. It’s kind and thoughtful, but that’s not what I was thinking.
“You can’t tell me who it is? Would I have heard of her?”
He sighs, and my hand, which is resting on his chest, rises and falls. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be an asshole, but I’ve promised her complete privacy.”
“That’s okay. I mean, I’d like to know, but I’m not getting my panties in a wedge because I don’t. It’s business. I get it.” I pull away from him a little because I want to see him when he talks. “So, tell me. You go into the studio, and you don’t pull out a paddle with a number out of ten on it. You’re not scoring it. But what do you do? You say,I liked that trombone, but I think your lyrics stink?”
Fisher chuckles. “Not exactly that, but kinda. I used to dabble in record production and writing. And so I help with the mix, the arrangement, maybe even some of the lyrics and music.”
“Wow. That’s not what I thought you’d say. I expected you to be the money guy. I mean, you’re friends with Byron, and he seems like the money guy.”
“Byron’s definitely the money guy,” he says. “But I started off in A&R, scouting talent. Then I moved into production, building artists’ careers, and matchmaking musicians together.”
“I bet every day is different for you, huh?”
“Less so now. Because, like you say, I’m the money guy…”
“What?” I ask as his thoughts trail off.
“I was just thinking that you’re right; my career has changed a lot from how I started before Right Records grewinto what it is now. Before that, I was working with different people all the time. And even when I was working in A&R, I’d go to gigs all the time, scour YouTube for the latest thing. Now, I’m the guy that says yes or no across a desk.”
“You miss being on the ground.”
He pulls his eyebrows together in that way he does when he’s really thinking about something. “I’m not sure. In some ways. I haven’t questioned it in a long time. Right Records exploded after a couple of artists I was working with went viral and became overnight sensations. It happened one right after another. For a long time, I was just trying to keep up. I don’t know if it’s being here with one artist, or that I’ve been back in the studio, or maybe because Gerry Banks has resurfaced, but now I’m thinking about it.”
“Huh, you know the other thing that’s changed?” I point at myself, and then shake my head. “Don’t go falling in love with me, blowing up your whole life.”
A shy smile curls around his lips, and I can’t help but lean forward and press my mouth to his. He’s just so freaking adorable. As I go to pull back, he clasps my face and pushes his tongue through to meet mine. It’s like he can’t let me go without getting more first. The thought circles my heart and squeezes.
He grins. “I’ll do my best.”
I turn so I can’t see him. Maybe if I can’t see his expression, I’ll be able to resist him easier.
“Now, tell me more about whoever the hell Gerry Banks is.”
He chuckles and tells me the story of this guy who seems straight-up jealous of Fisher. And frankly, I’m not surprised.
“And you think it’s only you who he targets? Does he have a reputation for being an asshole?”
“No more than anyone else in my industry—me excluded, of course.”
“Of course,” I say, feigning shock that he’d even suggest that he might be an asshole in business.
I pull out my phone. “Where did he go to school? Harvard, I bet. I heard everyone who goes to Harvard is an asshole.”
“I have no idea.”
“What do you mean, you have no idea? You must know everything about Gerry Banks. He’s your nemesis.”