with every passing second he knew how true it was. More than anything, he needed to keep praying. Keep pressing in. Things were plain weird right now. Between Harold and this dry spell, God had to be shifting things. Maybe He was through using him in Christian rap. He never promised that Brian would have more than one album.
Brian got his Bible out of his bag and sat at the desk. Suddenly he didn’t want to rush to get on the road. He was desperate for God to lead him in some kind of way . . . although lately he always ended up at the “wait on God” verses, which never got him excited.
He was about to turn off his cell when it rang again. Monica’s name lit up the screen.
“Hey,” he said.
“Heyyy, tell me you’re still here.”
Brian could hear the smile in her voice. “I’m here. Why, what’s up?”
“I wondered if we could have breakfast. I’ve got some time before the first session, and I’m about to order in the suite. My assistant, Laura, is up here too.”
“Aw, sounds good—and I’m definitely hungry. But I’m over here stressing a little. ’Bout to jump into some quiet time, hopefully get some direction.”
“About the album?”
“Album, school, plus Harold’s trippin’ as usual.”
“You don’t need direction about Harold. Stop being nice and let him go. It’s long overdue.”
“You’re probably right. I guess I felt I had to be loyal because he took me on and got me my deal.”
“But if you ask me, he was never straight up with you, saying he wanted to make a move to the Christian genre. You were his chance to get back in the game. But he’s wanted you to go mainstream all along.”
“He made that clear today. Wants me to leave Revive.”
Monica sighed. “It won’t hurt you to go without a manager, at least for a while. You’ll have more freedom to figure out what you want to do without him pressuring you this way and that. It’s one stress headache you can get rid of.”
Brian nodded to himself. “I can always count on you to tell me like it is.”
He and Monica had struck up an easy friendship from their first meeting a couple of years ago. They could kick around most any topic, but he especially liked having someone to talk to who understood the industry.
“Of course you can count on me.” The smile rang in her voice again. “I understand not coming to breakfast, but you’ve at least got to stop by the conference before you go—oh! I’ve got an idea. It would be fun if you could sit in on some of the workshop this morning, share some of your wisdom with budding songwriters. You know, give back a little.”
“Nice guilt trip.”
“Seriously, I know they’d love to hear from you. When I attended, my favorite part was hearing from people who were doing what I wanted to do. Just think—one comment from you could motivate someone to keep trying.”
“I don’t know about that, but . . .” He actually did like sharing about music and the industry. “I don’t mind stopping through,” he said. “Don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay, though.”
“Awesome.”
They wrapped up the conversation, but when he meant for his thoughts to land on the Bible he’d opened up, they landed on Kelli instead. He could see her here, mixing it up with songwriters. That had been her passion. Had she ever pursued it? Was she still writing?
He heaved a sigh. Five days had passed since he’d seen Cedric and Lindell, and just as he’d expected, Kelli hadn’t called. Being here only made him think of her all the more. How ironic that he’d be talking to songwriters today, when she was the first songwriter he’d ever known.
Lord, please help me get in touch with her. I want to talk to her. I . . . I miss her.
KELLI WALKED WITH STEPHANIE AND CYD INTO THE first session of the morning, coffee in hand.
“Aww,” Stephanie said, “I thought we were early. The first few rows are already taken.” She cast a disapproving glance at Cyd. “You just had to stop in Starbucks. That line was ridiculous.”
Cyd sipped her caffè mocha. “I’m not seeing the problem. There are scads of available seats.”
“I wanted a clear path to the panelists so I could snag one of them to tell about Kelli’s songs and see if they’d listen.”
Kelli huddled closer to them. “But Rita said we can’t do that.”