Grumpalicious by Mia Faye

Chapter 7

GENEVIEVE

I was standing right there. Ugh, I hated men like the two of them. They knew they were the shit and so they talked over my head like I wasn’t in the room, as if I was some kind of object.

“Well, let’s hear what you’ve got,” Joe said, turning to me.

My stomach rolled a little but without saying anything I walked to the piano in the corner and laid my hands on the keys. I had been working on the love song I’d last played for Cash and I just started playing it without any pretense. I sang knowing my voice was strong. I was fearless because I wasn’t attached to the outcome. Of course, I wanted this to blow my career out of the water, but I really didn’t attach all my hopes and dreams to that one chance. If Cash Coltrane wanted me perhaps other producers would too.

I also wasn’t sure I could temper my attraction to Cash. He knew that when he got me off in his hotel room, and then just dumped me, he was proving he had the upper hand. He must have thought that I would spend every night we were apart replaying the scene over and over again in my head. I didn’t want to give him that much power, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I had.

I played with all of my heart and just lost myself to the music. When I was done with the song, I felt flush but connected and grounded. My music was going to save me, even from myself.

“Well, shit!” the old man said as he launched himself off of his desk. “I can work with this.”

“You mean, her!” I turned to him and barked, having had enough of the objectification.

Cash laughed. “Careful, she’s a tough nut.” He shook his head, and I didn’t entirely know what he meant but I didn’t really care. I was going to just do my thing and get out of there.

“Send her to me when you’re done,” is all he said as he turned to walk out.

“Will do,” Joe who smelled like expensive cologne, leather, and cigarettes said as he tapped my shoulder and waved his hand for me to stand up. “Here, let’s try this.” He took my place at the piano as Cash walked down the hall.

I tried not to look at him, but I did sneak a peek and of course, it was at the exact time he looked back at me. The moment our eyes met a lightning bolt sliced through my soul. I wasn’t sure how I was ever going to survive my time in New York. I worked on a song with Joe for a few hours and as crusty as the man seemed when I first met him, he quickly grew on me.

“Okay, let’s change this key here and have you do a run over this phrase, you know, go to church with it, show off your range and vocal control and then bring it back home. Pop stuff, add a little sparkle, but keep it bobby.”

While most people wouldn’t understand what he was saying, he was definitely speaking my language and so I worked hard with him to mix pop with vocal flare and some real musicality. By the end of the day, we had two pretty solid songs, one he taught me and the one I had already written.

“Okay, we’ll get a band together, do some practice runs and we’ll lay down the sweet number you played earlier and this one. I’ll send the tracks off to Cash and you’ll be in his hands. If we sign you, you’ll come back here to me and we’ll talk about the record album. Honestly, I think he’d be a dipshit not to sign you, but Cash can be fickle,” he said almost under his breath.

“Oh, I know.” I agreed, rolling my eyes.

“Yeah, he’s a good man, just hides it well. Okay. I’ll take you back to him and good luck, whatever happens, you’ve got one helluva voice and you’re a helluva gal. Don’t lose you in all this mess. You’re worth keeping.”

Joe walked me back to Cash’s office and instead of making the trek in silence he said hello to everyone and introduced me here and there to people whose faces I’d probably remember, but whose names I would forget.

By the time we reached Cash’s office, he seemed a little keyed up.

“Well?” He looked over the top of his computer with his eyebrows raised.

“We got a lot to work with. We’ll start tomorrow and have a two-song demo for you on Wednesday to wet the production team’s whistle. As soon as I get the go-ahead we can map out a debut, should take us a coupla, maybe six?”

Cash’s face eased a little hearing Joe say that. “Fine. Okay. Thanks, Joe.” Cash stood up and stretched.

“Bring me more like her and no more of the raggedly teenage kids who can’t find a note even if it hit him dead between the eyes.”

“Marcus Laughlin already has a recording contract, he’s the biggest thing in Europe right now Joe.” Cash seemed to be scolding the man.

“Still don’t mean I like his voice,” Joe shrugged his shoulders and ambled out the door, just as he was about to enter the hallway he slapped me on the back. “Knock him dead, kid. If he acts like a monkey, just knock him out cold.”

His comment made me explode with nervous laughter.

“Ha ha,” Cash mocked. “The old man thinks he’s my dad.”

“Well, someone fucking should,” Joe yelled out from down the hall.

“He’s harmless,” Cash said, as if I needed protection from Joe and not him.

“He’s fun, we had a good time. So, am I done for the day?” I really wanted to go back to the swank hotel room he got me, take a hot bath, and order a shit ton of food off of the room service menu because I was starving.

“Nope, I’m taking you to dinner,” Cash pulled his suit jacket off of a coat rack near the door.

“Ugh, why?” I actually said, then bit my lip.

Luckily, Cash was in a good mood. “Why? Well, I have something I want to discuss with you.”

“Not music?” I followed him out of this office.

“No.”

“Is there any way out of this?” I looked at him raising my white flag.

“Nope.” With the smoldering glint in his eye, he and I both knew I wasn’t going anywhere without him.

“Where are we going to eat?” I sighed, knowing I was defeated.

“It’s a surprise.” His smile was infectious.

“You’re the worst,” I said, shaking my head as he took my arm.

“No, I’m the best.”

Cash took me to a fancy restaurant I was hardly dressed for, but I was with Cash Coltrane, I could have been wearing a bathrobe and I’d be fine. He knew almost everyone in the place, so I was very happy that we were shuttled into a private room. Somehow I felt better just braving him instead of a room full of people who knew him, but that being said, I’d been seen. Whether I had agreed to it or not, I was now on Cash’s radar.

“So,” I started right in after sitting down. “Is this part of your plan to put me out there as your ‘next’?”

“Superstar, maybe.” He knew what I meant and purposefully avoided the answer.

“Or?” I glared at him.

“You’re fresh and sweet meat. So, yes that’s exactly why I invited you out to dinner. I want to be seen with you so that people know you’re the next one.” He then picked up the menu and pretended like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on my head.

“Well, I don’t have to stay. I can walk out of here looking like I hate you and your reputation would still be in the trash. I’m not up for grabs,” I threatened, but in a teasing tone so as not to elicit his complete and total wrath.

“You could, but why would you? You passed the Joe test, you’re on your way to making your dreams a reality, why throw that all away because I’m trying to seduce you and I have an abysmal reputation with women?” He actually said that with a straight face.

“What is your bottom line then?” I finally wanted to get to the heart of the matter.

“I need to clear my name and I need to fuck you.” Well, that was the bottom alright. “At the moment I know fucking is off the table, but I have a proposition, one I don’t think you can or should refuse.”

“No.”

“How can you say ‘no’ when you haven’t heard my proposal yet?”

“I can only guess what it might be.”

“Guess,” he dared me.

“You want me to be your fake girlfriend,” I huffed.

“I want you to be my fake wife.” Boom!

“You are absolutely batshit crazy. No, no way. Nah uh. Can I go back to my hotel now?” In truth, I was ready to go all the way back to Texas.

“It’s a very simple proposal. I give you five million dollars and you marry me. You go on that abysmal reality show with me, I get your recording contract all squared away. You play doting wife, I fuck who I like, and hopefully, it will be you at some point. You can have a wing of my house, most of which is empty collecting dust anyway. We separate and consciously uncouple in about five years. Voila, my problems are solved and you get a lot of money.”

“Five million is not enough money to throw five years of my life away.”

“You will be focusing on your career. For five years I’ll be building you up to be the biggest thing in music. I’m talking about the Grammys, movie offers, endorsements.”

“Don’t you think people will disregard my talent thinking I got to all those things because of my ‘marriage’ to you?” I had to choke on the word marriage as I could hardly even say it.

“No, because the world and I are going to fall in love with you at the same time. We aren’t getting married today, that’s later in the timeline. It’s all mapped out.”

“And if I say no?” Because I was going to say no.

“Then we’ll be having dinner every single night together out in public under their scrutiny until you say yes.”

“And you think threatening me is the best way to go about this?” I was seriously getting mad. “Besides, wouldn’t I have to be out with you anyway? I mean if we were this hot item, you’d be taking me places.”

“Yes, but I’d be taking you places to get you seen, build your career, make it all about you. If you don’t say yes, then it’s all gonna be on my turf, with my people, about me. Perhaps people are gonna think you’re my next piece of ass.”

“And what if I just go back home to Texas, tonight!” I stood up wanting to leave.

“Go.” He looked at me, daring me to walk out of that restaurant.

My heart bottomed out. I was at a crossroads, was I going to do it? Did I really have the guts to just toss all of it away and go back to honky-tonk bars and high school dances? I told myself it wouldn’t be like that. I’d find another producer; I’d get my songs on the radio. I’d make YouTube videos and use my friends to help me find someone, anyone who wasn’t Cash Coltrane to represent me. I could do this. I could. I was better than a fake marriage contract. I wanted real love. I deserved it and so without saying another word I walked out to the restaurant and to my absolute shock he let me.

As I stood outside on the noisy New York street, I did everything in my power to hold back my tears. While I had heard it was hard to get a taxi in New York City it didn’t take me too long to flag down a cab. All the time I was standing out there, I could feel eyes on my back. Chances are they were the patrons of the restaurant, they may have even been Cash’s eyes, but I didn’t look back to see. I had the taxi take me to my hotel and I immediately started packing up my things. I was throwing things in a bag with one hand and calling the airline to change my flight with the other.

I half expected Cash to show up at my room, but he didn’t. Then I expected him to show up at the airport, but he didn’t. So, I went back home and at six in the morning, on the day after I’d arrived in New York, I was back in Houston, Texas. As soon as I walked into my house, I surprised Peyton, though I’d called her and left her a message. I saw her face and burst into tears.

“Everything is going to be alright, sweetie. You did the right thing.” She pulled me into a hug, and I just sobbed.

I had left her a long rambling message telling her everything that had gone on that day and so I was grateful I didn’t have to go over it again. I just let her hold me while I cried.