to the floor. We gave her a sincere round of applause, and she returned to the kitchen to pack up.
“Hey, Jordan,” his wife said, loud enough for us to hear her. “How about if you and Miles hop on stage and give us a preview of the entertainment?”
Jordan shook his head, but everyone else hooted and clapped, and Miles waved him toward the stage. Jordan shook his head again, but this time he was grinning as he rose and went to the piano. “How about some classic jazz?” he called out to more hoots. “Let’s do a little ‘So What’ from Miles Davis.”
He was flawless, his fingers lightning quick on the keys. We clapped when he ended, and he smiled out at us. “We’ll bring in people to cover the standards, but we’re also going to showcase singer-songwriters who have an interesting point of view. Sometimes that may verge toward Americana, other times toward soul and R&B roots, but from blues to bebop, the Turnaround will have it.”
“How’s the booking going?” I asked Miles as Jordan headed back to his seat.
His big smile tightened a tiny bit at the question. “Tougher than expected. We’ve got great regional acts coming in, but we’ve had a hard time getting calls back from some of the other acts I wanted.”
“Use your name,” Aaron said from the next table. “I keep telling you that, bro. All you have to do is use your name.”
Miles rolled his eyes at him. “Eat your torta.”
“What was that about?” I asked him.
“Nothing. Old argument.”
“Get up there,” Jordan told Miles. “It’s your turn.”
Miles leaned toward me instead, his eyes glinting. “These are all friendly faces. How about you get up there and sing? Do a cover if you don’t want to do your own stuff.”
My cheeks burned even at the thought. “No. Not even covers.”
He lowered his voice, his expression turning serious. “It kills me that everyone else doesn’t get to see how good you are.”
“Dylan and Chloe know. That’s half the room. And it’s enough.”
Miles looked like he wanted to say something else, but he closed his mouth and shook his head instead. “Okay. But I wish you’d change your mind.”
“I know.” He stressed me out more each time he brought it up. “But they’ll be happy to listen to you. Go,” I said, as Jordan called for him to go up again. “Do one of your new ones.”
“Which one?”
“Any of them. I love them all.” It was true. He’d played me three new songs over the last two weeks, and I’d loved each of them for different reasons.
Miles went to the piano and sat for a few seconds, like he was deciding what to play. As soon as he plucked out the first notes, I recognized it. He’d chosen his new up tempo one, a song about dancing like no one is watching. If the industry was a fair place, this would be everyone’s new summer jam, and it was fun to watch everyone’s head move and fingers tap, even cranky Dylan’s.
And once again, when Miles sang about love, I pretended the words were for me. For now, it was enough.
The second chef showcase went well too. Jordan brought in Boogie to play while we ate so we could get more of the full Turnaround experience, and while the second chef was good, the group voted six to two in favor of the first chef, Le Anh.
As if hiring her made the prospect of opening real, suddenly everything went into high gear. Keisha from the gallery had connected Miles with the muralist she’d mentioned, Elijah Remy, who came in and transformed the walls into something magical. He designed it with moments of color in a dark grounding, meant to be seen by the low lights of the jazz club. That also required another visit from the electrician to install strategically placed lighting floods to bring the art to life. Miles called Jordan over the next morning, stood us in the center of the club, and switched on the lights. We all caught our breath.
“It looks amazing,” I told him.
“Yeah,” Jordan agreed, moving closer to study one of the murals. “Like this place has been here forever and was always meant to be here.”
“Won’t be if you don’t get the bookings up.”
We all turned to Aaron, who had offered this cheerful prediction.
“The bookings are fine,” Miles said, his voice mild. “We’re booked the first three months solid.”
“But sales aren’t,” Aaron said. “We haven’t even sold out the first