Page 4 of Hero on the Road
Evidently I’d been wrong.
I got into the bathroom and turned on the shower, then let my mind go back to that dream again. The feel of writing with Olivia, the memory of her laugh and how easily music came to her...
It hit me like the legendary lightning bolt. One moment I was thinking about how Olivia had written and the next my mind was full of melody and lyrics, like they’d just come into being at the thought of her. I fought to tie them down, to get them to organize themselves into the song they wanted to be, but it was no good. They were all over the place, the music a cacophony in my head. And the lyrics were slipping right through my fingers.
I had to get them down on paper.
I darted back into the room, grabbed my guitar out of its case, and sat down on the bed with a notebook. Seconds later, I was playing and finding the right notes. Putting them in order and massaging them until they become a melody. And then a better melody. And then a song.
Once I had it down, I started putting the words I’d written to it, finding where they fit and making them live for me. Before long I was closing my eyes and playing it by memory, feeling it out and finding where the sweet spot was.
When I opened my eyes again, I realized I’d just written one of the best songs in my catalogue. It was beautiful and sweet and tragic and almost impossible to reach. It was a song that would make you laugh and cry at the same time, and that you’d go back to again and again, always needing it one more time.
It was, in short, a song about Olivia Johns.
My phone rang, jerking me out of the thought, and I grabbed at it in that way you do when something loud has interrupted you when you were doing something you shouldn’t be.
“Yes?” I barked.
“Wow, good morning to you too,” a voice said.
Danny Reynolds. My agent. Right.
“Danny,” I said, glancing at the clock. It was only 7 in the morning. “Sorry, you caught me still half-asleep. What are you doing calling so early? Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s great. Get up, get dressed, and get some breakfast. We’ve got a meeting with Atomic today. They’re finally ready to move on your contract.”
CHAPTER3
Olivia
“You ready for this?” Taylor asked, grabbing my hand and squeezing.
I gave her the look she deserved. “Are you? You’re the one who’s going to be in charge of making sure they don’t walk all over me in there.”
She snorted and returned the look times ten. “Girl. Don’t question my abilities. I’m the witch here, remember?”
“You better be,” I said, turning to face the door again. “Because I’m not walking out of there without my contract.”
We were in the Atomic offices getting ready to walk into a conference room, where we’d be facing nameless execs with the power to make or break my career. Men who thought they knew best and who probably didn’t care what I wanted.
These weren’t the men who’s offered me the contract back at Christmas. They were the ones in charge of making it happen. And I wasn’t entirely sure they believed in their mission. I’d been trying to prove my worth to them since I got here in December and they had barely even looked my way.
Now we were going to march in there and tell them I needed my contract, or else.
No problem.
I wasn’t nervous at all.
I had total faith that Taylor could pull it off.
“Ready?” she breathed.
“Not even close,” I replied. “But let’s get this over with.”
We walked through the door hand in hand, both of us doing our best to stand taller than we really were and look more impressive than we’d ever been. This was our moment. This was when we finally got this deal inked so I could move on with my career and Taylor could spend her time obsessing over some other struggling artist.
This was when my dreams finally started coming true.
