two bras, a tank top I thought I’d lost, and an unopened toothbrush before I came up with my phone.
Yui stood. “I’ll let you take that. I need to go talk to Tracey over in marketing.”
I nodded and tapped the button to answer. “Hello?”
“Maya, it’s Cole. Thank god you answered. I’m seriously screwed right now.”
I leaned back in the chair. I’d worked with Cole Bryson a few years ago when he’d been suffering from a serious case of sophomore slump anxiety. His first album had been a huge hit, but he’d caved under the pressure to follow it up. When Oliver had sent me out to work with him, he’d been swimming in liquor and self-doubt. I’d helped him pull himself together, write the rest of his songs, and finish the album. And it had sold better than his first.
“Hi Cole, good to hear from you. I’m doing just fine, glad you asked.”
He groaned. “I’m sorry, I’m just panicking.”
“Panicking over what?”
“We’re in the studio and I swear to god, nothing sounds right. I don’t know if I can do this again.”
“Of course you can do it again. You’ve done it twice. Your fans love your music.”
“I know, but—”
“Cole, listen. We’ve been down this road. There is no but. Albums can flop, we both know that. It’s the risk you take when you put yourself out there. But you can’t worry about that when you’re in the studio. All you need to do right now is put your heart into your music.”
“Yeah…”
“What did we talk about before I left?”
“Turn off distractions. Get enough sleep.”
“Have you been doing that?”
“Yes,” he said. “I leave my phone off the whole time I’m in the studio. I’ve been sleeping normal hours, not going out partying. And no girls. I swear.”
I rolled my eyes. Like most young men who found fame, Cole had succumbed to the allure of the countless women who were more than happy to jump into bed with him. To say they’d been a distraction was an understatement. “Okay, so what’s the problem?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re just playing head games with yourself,” I said. “Are you still recording in Seattle?”
“Yeah.”
“Here’s what you’re going to do. Take a day off. Drive… anywhere, really. Just get out of the city. I’ve been there and it’s gorgeous. Go to Mount Rainier or take a ferry to Whidbey Island. Find a place where you’re surrounded by the natural world. A beautiful setting where you can just be. Let that recharge your batteries.”
“Okay,” he said, and I could practically hear him nodding. “Yeah, that does sound good.”
“Awesome. Then get back in the studio and get the fuck back to work.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I know, I know. Thanks, Maya.”
“Anytime.”
I hung up and dropped my phone back in my bag.
“Maya?” Oliver poked his head in Yui’s office. “Good to see you.”
“Hey.” I stood, shouldering my big handbag, and shook his hand. “Ready for me?”
“Yeah, thanks for waiting.”
“No problem.”
I grabbed my coffee and followed him into his office. Unlike Yui’s, which was stylishly modern, Oliver’s office looked like it belonged to a hard-core music fan. He had vintage band posters in frames and several shelves displayed his collection of music memorabilia.
He sat behind his mahogany desk, dressed in a Nirvana t-shirt. His dirty blond hair was short, his face smooth. His gunmetal wedding ring stood out against his tanned skin.
I took a seat on the other side of his desk and sucked down more of my coffee.
“You kinda look like shit,” he said.
I shot him a glare. “I’ve been in the country for less than twenty-four hours. I think. I’m actually not sure what time it is. Or what day. Who are you, again?”
He grinned. “God, I know. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. Just tell me why I’m here and not sleeping off jet lag in Yui’s stupidly comfortable guest bed.”
“Before I tell you, let me just say, I fully intended to give you some time off. I’m not such a dick that I don’t realize you’ve been on tour and you just got back. So I wouldn’t have asked you to come in if it wasn’t important.”
“It’s not that big a deal,” I said. “I’m used to it. Besides, you know me, I don’t do time off.”
“Maybe you should.”
I took another sip. “Oliver, you’re a great boss, but if I need someone to bug me about working too much, I’ll call my parents.”
“How long has it been since you’ve been home to see them, by the way?”