Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“Told you.”
Paige is already in front of me with her phone. The clip of Harrison telling the divorced woman to make the call is climbing by the second. “This is the one,” she says. “Look at the comments coming in.”
“Let me see,” Harrison says. Paige shows him her phone. “Thirty years of drum solos, and the thing that takes off is me telling a stranger to go on a date.”
“Welcome to my life,” I tell him. “Paige gets a lot of credit for putting the show where it is. Without her, we may not grow as fast as we are.”
Harrison gives Paige a high-five. “I know Elle appreciates everything you do for the bands.”
Paige beams. “Marketing may be my thing.”
“Is she on payroll?” Harrison asks.
I nod. “Yep, and worth every penny.”
Paige kisses me on the cheek. “Thanks, Daddy. See you oldies at home.” She laughs as she heads into the production room with Bex.
“See you oldies at home,” I mimic in her voice. “Brat.”
Harrison laughs and pats me on the shoulder. On our way out, we stop and chat with Bex, who is beaming at the numbers rolling in.
“I just love you, Liam.”
She hugs me around the middle. I look wide-eyed at Harrison and shrug.
Outside, he climbs into the truck. Katelyn calls and says we sound happy. We tell her we’ll be home shortly.
I pull into the water tower, get out to unlock the gate, and back my truck up.
“Is there a cooler in here I don’t know about?”
“Nah, it’s on the way.”
We get out and start climbing when two more sets of headlights turn in. Noah and Nick carry a cooler up the metal staircase, with Ben and Quinn following behind. We all sit, grab a bottle, pop the top and chug.
“On the count of three,” Ben says. “One, two, three.”
We launch our bottles into the bed of my truck and cheer like we’re in high school, and then we sit back and start gossiping like we’re at Josie’s book club.
TWENTY-FIVE
If it wasn’t for reserved parking, I’d have to park on the street. As a business owner, this is what I like to see, my tenants thriving. As someone who has to go to work, I’m glad I’m the owner and can put up a sign that says: Reserved for the boss.
Actually, it says reserved but in my head it says otherwise.
There’s a second engineer at the board now, and a young woman I’ve never met, keeping pace with Bex without being told twice. Down the hall, Paige has three screens going in her office, running the whole social side of the station and FMG Records. A few months ago, it was me, Bex, Paige, and one microphone I was pretty sure I’d embarrass myself into. Now I have to schedule time to see my own producer. Bex calls it a good problem to have. I’ve never met a good problem, but I let her have the phrase, because she’s the reason there’s a show to have problems about in the first place.
“That’s Ember,” Bex says when she catches me looking. “She’s mine. Don’t scare her off.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. Hi, Ember. I’m Liam.”
Ember lifts a hand without looking up from the board, which is exactly what you want from somebody running a live show. New to town, I’d bet. She keeps half an eye on the room, still learning who everybody is. She tells me she’s a fan, and I can tell she means it, but she says it quick and gets right back to work.
“Everybody’s a fan until they’ve worked a week,” Bex says. “Give it a week and you’ll hate him same as the rest of us.”
“Har, har, har,” I say childishly.
“We got the offer,” Bex says from her seat. I go into her space, something I try not to do because I don’t want my hand slapped for touching a shiny object.
“What offer.”
“The offer. National. Two hundred markets to start, coast to coast, five nights a week, and they want to keep it exactly as it is.” She watches me, waiting for me to come apart with it.
“That’s good,” I tell her.
“That’s good?” She sets the coffee down hard. “This isn’t something that happens over months, Liam. This is something that takes years. You managed to go from a few broadcasts to national in months.”
“I didn’t,” I tell her. “You did. Paige did. All I did was answer the phone. This is all you.”
Bex blushes and breaks eye contact.
“I’m proud of you,” I tell her, because that part’s true. “You took a washed-up singer and a call-in show and turned it into a network.”
“You’re going to be huge.”
“I’m home by ten most nights. That’s as huge as I need to get.”
Bex shakes her head at me and picks the coffee back up, and for the first time since I’ve known her, her eyes go glassy. She built this out of a man who told her no, and I let her have the moment, because she earned it more than I did.