Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 96512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“And after EMG, you set up your own fucking label. Man, I was pissed about that. You were going to get to work for yourself and not have to put up with asshole managers who didn’t give a fuck about anything but being spotted out with the latest singers.”
I chuckle at his frustration. The music business is full of people whose only ambition is to be seen as close to the talent. I’ve never understood it.
“That’s why I became a manager. I didn’t want to have someone telling me what to do when you didn’t have to put up with that shit, either.”
Jesus, even when I thought we’d followed different paths, he’d chosen his because of me. I’ve never felt so sorry for a man as I do for the one sitting in front of me.
“Anyway, I’m good at what I do,” he says. “I got the opportunity at Re because of my own merits.” He sounds slightly defensive.
“I know,” I reassure him. “There’s never been any doubt about that in my mind.”
He nods, his eyes flitting around the room, like he can’t quite take the compliment.
“Our father is an asshole,” I say, pouring out another shot of tequila. “But I’m not him.”
“I don’t know what’s worse,” he says. “Never having the perfect family, or thinking you’ve got it and discovering it’s all been a lie.”
“Pick your poison,” I say. He looks at me, and I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but I swear there’s something I see that wasn’t there before. A softness… or maybe a lack of bitterness.
We both reach for our glasses and raise them in the air and tip them back. It feels like the beginning of a truce or something.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Juniper
New York couldn’t be more different than Star Falls. And yet, somehow, it still feels like home. Fisher was right about everyone belonging in New York. There’s an energy that makes me feel like there’s a place for Riley and me here.
Fisher. God, I miss him. I close my eyes in a long blink in a futile attempt to wipe him from my thoughts.
Riley squeezes my hand a little tighter as people come toward us on the sidewalk of Park Avenue. “There’s just so many people!”
I laugh. That’s an understatement. “You’re right. A little more than Star Falls, right?”
I made sure our hotel is within walking distance of Radio City Music Hall and Grace’s gallery. I didn’t want to negotiate the subway for the first time with Riley. I’m sure it would have been fine, but I wasn’t going to take any chances with my daughter. Yes, I want her to fly, but that doesn’t mean I want her to break her wings trying.
“Yeah. A lot more,” she says. “And it really smells bad, Mom.”
I laugh. “I can’t argue with that.”
“But it’s cool.” She gazes up as we come to a stop at the crossing at 59th Street. “The buildings are so tall. They block out the sky. It looks even more New York than in the movies.”
As ever, my daughter knows exactly how to encapsulate a feeling. “I like that. I agree, it’s more New York than it is in the movies.”
“Can we go to the top of the Empire State Building?” she asks.
We’re not here for long. Just two nights and one full day. First, we’re stopping at Grace Astor Fine Art to meet with Grace. She seemed really pleased to hear from me, and when I said I was coming to New York, she said she’d love to meet.
It’s not that she’d ever been cold or unenthusiastic about my work. The opposite, in fact. It’s just that reaching out to her and hearing how excited she seemed gave me… confidence. Maybe she really saw something in me. It’s not like Riley and I can come to New York on a regular basis, but maybe there’s some kind of way where she could help me get my art seen by more people. Like Mom said, I’ve got nothing to lose by going to see her.
“We’re going to the gallery first.”
“But not the Met?”
“No, this is to a gallery of a friend of—” I nearly say Fisher’s name but I stop myself just in time. “Of mine. She wanted me to stop by if I was ever in New York. Then I thought we could go through the park on our way to the Met and…” I haven’t had a chance to check the price of going to the top of the Empire State Building, but I bet it’s not cheap. The tickets to the Met are expensive, and Riley said she really wanted to go together, but maybe she’s humoring me. Before bed, I used to talk to her about the paintings in that museum like I used to work there.
“Oh yeah, I definitely want to go through Central Park. And definitely want to go to the Met with you. I’ll be right there with you when your dream comes true, Mama.”