Page 16 of Noah
I’d been protecting the girl since she was six, and having her out of my reach—out of my control—was driving me crazy. I wanted to know that she was safe and comfortable. Maybe even happy. I didn’t like the idea that she’d arrived in LA and put us in the past.
But I was starting to think she must have.
Honestly, I was beginning to wonder if she liked LA so much that she’d forgotten about me entirely. And that didn’t feel good.
Iglanced down the itinerary, looking for anything that might cause trouble. We were already in the first city, and I knew most of the places from there. This wasn’t our first time traveling this particular route. Same crowds, same tourist traps. Same small towns mixed with big cities. It wasn’t original, but it was dependable, and I knew for a fact that we had fans in most of these cities, which would make the shows even better.
Then I saw a note at the bottom of the itinerary and looked up at Rivers, catching his eye over his cup of coffee.
“We’re meeting label reps on the road,” I said quietly, my heart soaring. I’d already hoped we would be, and Taylor had promised me she’d try to arrange it. But this was the first time I’d seen confirmation.
My plan was working.
I saw a grin hidden in the corner of Rivers’ mouth, and knew he was thinking the same thing I was. “Looks that way, doesn’t it? Maybe Taylor finally heard the hints you’ve been dropping.”
I returned the grin and looked down at the paper again. Not just one or two labels, either. A full five companies were sending reps out to meet us in some of the biggest cities. I’d been bugging Taylor about our label for months, telling her again and again that they were too small to take us to the heights we wanted. Sure, they’d sent us on one pretty big tour with Olivia Johns and Connor Wheating, but they’d blown their load on that one and had really backed off since then. They also didn’t want to give us any time in the studio, and that was making it hard to get the publicity we needed.
And they hadn’t renewed our contract, which was a very big problem.
Maybe she had finally heard me. Maybe she’d actually started to believe I was worth listening to. If she had… My fingers twitched on the table, nearly reaching for my phone again. I hadn’t told her about my plans, yet. The ones where we wrote a bunch of new music to entice the labels and give them something to work with. Entertain the crowds. But if she’d heard me about booking meetings with execs, this seemed like the perfect time to bring up my other ideas.
The woman was hard as a rock and almost never listened to anyone other than herself. If she was finally willing to give me a place at the table, I was going to throw everything I had at her.
“Listen up, boys,” the woman herself said, striding suddenly into the private room we had in the restaurant. She clapped her hands like she didn’t already have our attention and looked at each of us in turn. “If you’ve looked at the itinerary, you know we’ve got some important guests meeting us on the road. Someone—” She glared at me with a look that could only be described as scorching. “—Has been making a lot of noise about you needing a new contract, and you know I take my clients seriously. You want a new contract? I can deliver it. But only if you’re on your best behavior out there. Play nice. Show us some new music. Stop breaking shit. And I just might be able to get you on with someone new.”
Play nice. Stop breaking shit. At one point she might have included Rivers and me both in that statement, but right now she was only looking at me. She’d already cleaned up the Rivers problem. Lila Potter had come in and played his girlfriend, then won his heart and taken him on a Real Live Rehabilitation Tour, and ever since then he’d been the media’s darling.
Leaving me to be the band’s designated bad boy.
So Taylor—and the reps from the labels—would be watching me even more closely.
Well, shit. This wasn’t part of my plan. I’d never done well with that sort of scrutiny, and something told me I was going to be even worse now that Molly wasn’t watching my back. She wasn’t exactly a girlfriend, there to make sure I behaved myself, but she’d always been my Girl Friday. She kept the press off my back and reminded me about things I was forgetting. Without her here...
Without her here, I reminded myself, I was better off. I didn’t have the pressure of her always leaning into me and ordering me around. I’d be able to stand on my own and make my own decisions. And I didn’t have to worry about her sensitivities orthat pout she’d been wearing for the last week. I could be my own man.
Though I was going to have to do it without pissing anyone off if the record execs were going to be nosing around.
I sat back abruptly, suddenly done with the meal. I didn’t like the idea that I might mess it all up, and liked even less the creeping realization that this whole plan was going to be a lot more difficult without Molly here. I stood up, uninterested in the food I’d ordered, and walked quickly out of the restaurant. There were reporters and photographers out front, of course, no doubt waiting for Rivers and Lila, but the moment they saw me they started shouting.
“Noah, what’s going on with the tour? Rumor has it you’re looking for a new label!”
“Noah, how is it having Lila Potter and Anna Tatum on tour? Are they messing with your chemistry?”
“Noah! Why the long face? What’s going on?”
I took a drag on my cigarette and blew the smoke in their direction, but didn’t answer. The moment I said anything, they’d take it as fact and run with it, and publicity wasn’t my job. Let Taylor talk to them about what was going on with Lila and Anna and the tour. We paid her enough to do it.
I pushed through the reporters, throwing them off when they got too close, and made straight for the hotel and some privacy. One word, and those reporters would write all about it, and that could start a shit show if the labels were watching the rags for any mention of us. Hell, they might even write a story about how I’d refused to take any questions and that meant I was unhappy or something.
They would be hitting too close to the truth if they did.
No one was saying it, but the band was at a breaking point. We were tired of constantly touring and not getting enough support. We’d never made enough to get anything more than asingle small house, which we all packed into when we were in Nashville. We were tired and broke and creatively tapped out, and it was no way to live. We needed a new contract, and quickly. If we didn’t get it, I was worried that we might not survive another year. And if we broke up, I’d be left on my own, without any clue where to go or who to turn to.
Alone. Again.
10
NOAH
