the table to punch Jeremy or I have the wingspan to reach him from here.
He holds up his hands, palms toward me in a ‘settle down’ motion. “Wait. I’m not asking you to break her heart . . . though that would actually be good for your image if you’re looking for a way out?” At my silence, he continues. “But a single, sexy bad boy whom all the women want sells albums. And that’s my goal. And yours too, right?”
It is. But not at the cost of losing Willow.
Not when I just found her.
“Not that way. I love her. And she has nothing to do with whether I can sing or not.”
“Of course she doesn’t. But she has everything to do with the image you project, and it’s our job to tell you when what you’re doing doesn’t work. The way Miller helped Dig Down Deeper be better and Rory helped you pose to show your best assets. You can see that, right?”
“That’s not the same thing and you fucking know it.”
Jeremy looks cool as a cucumber while I’m fired up and ready to walk. He purses his lips, hands steepled in front of his chest. “Here’s the deal, Bobby. NCR Records is prepared to offer you a very good deal. This is not the sort of deal most new artists receive, but I believe that you have the makings of a true star. I want to help you get there. On stage, your name in lights, people singing along with every word. I want you to buy Tannen Farm for your brothers and sister.”
He knows which knife to twist because I feel that one sharply.
“But only you can decide if you want that. You have to be willing to go all in. You sing cover songs. You think those guys didn’t do things they didn’t want to do? You think they didn’t give up one dream to chase a more important one? Hell, I have a kid who gave up a full-ride scholarship to an Ivy League school for a record deal that was a hell of a lot less than what I’m offering you. You’re special, Bobby. But this industry will test you every single day to see how much you want it, how far you’re willing to go to get it.”
No. It’s too much to ask.
I’m ashamed to say that there’s a tiny seed of doubt, though. This is something I’ve wanted for so long, since before I got Betty. This has been growing since I was a kid singing along with the songs on the radio. A dream I lost a long time ago when real life took priority and took away any real chance I might’ve had at making a go of my music. But maybe I didn’t lose the chance. Maybe this is it.
Now.
To get on stage and bleed myself for bigger crowds. Surely, that would quiet the thoughts and emotions and broken phrases of lyrics that never leave me alone.
To buy the farm back. I know Brody wants that more than anything. It holds him back in everything he does, even with Rix. He feels like a failure because we lost it when he was in charge of protecting it and us. It wasn’t his fault, but no amount of telling him that can make him truly believe it. But this would let me give him his pride back, his square of dirt that he builds his entire self-worth on.
To show Mom, up in heaven, that her boy did make it. That I’m good enough.
Fuck.
“You don’t have to decide right now. In fact, I want you to think it over. That shows how serious you take it, how much this means to you and how dedicated you’ll be once you’ve signed on that dotted line you’ve wanted for so long.” Every word out of his mouth is designed to manipulate me, but that doesn’t mean he’s wrong. It might very well take that.
The question is . . . is the payoff worth the price of admission?
No, it can’t be. It won’t be.
The refusal is on the tip of my tongue, ready to be spat out with all the venom I feel at his even considering this a reasonable demand. But my mouth stays shut, my teeth ground together.
“Have a lawyer read over the contract and get it back to me. But don’t wait too long, Bobby. You’ve already waited long enough, stayed in that small town long enough. It’s your turn. Your