“KT,” he said in a soft rasp, “Barry’s part of the past. That world is gone now, record companies. It’s the past.”
“He was loyal. He was always there. He made me platinum.”
“And in a few years, there won’t be any platinum, not like there used to be. It’s going to be downloads and TV and concerts and deals with retailers and airlines and ad agencies. The Industry’s always been changing. That’s the way it works. We’re in a new era.”
“That’s a nice speech. Sounds like you’ve rehearsed it plenty.” Her eyes narrowed and Dance saw within them an anger and defiance that had never been present when speaking with her father. She laughed coldly. “You think I don’t see what’s going on here? This isn’t about me. It’s all about you, isn’t it?”
“Me?”
“You fucked up your career. You let your voice go to hell and now you can’t sing or write your way out of a paper bag. So what do you do? You become the great impresario. What’s Global’s tagline going to be? ‘Now Appearing … Bishop Towne’s Daughter’?”
“KT, of course not. That’s—”
“What’s Barry going to do?”
“Barry?” As if Bishop hadn’t thought about it. “He’ll change with the times or he’ll get into a new line of work. Or we’ll have Art find a place for him at Global. We still need producers.”
“So that’s how you treat your friends. It’s sure how you treated me, isn’t it? You made me give up my …” She tailed off. Dance knew what was in her mind but the young woman wasn’t going there now. “You made me give up so much, just so you could stay in the Industry. It was the only way you could hang on.”
She wheeled around and walked away.
He shouted, “KT!”
She paused.
“You wait just a minute there.”
Kayleigh turned back defiantly and Bishop approached. He regarded her not as a child but as a peer. Oblivious to onlookers he muttered, “You’re acting like a spoiled little girl. All right, you want the truth? Yeah, I asked your sister and Congressman Davis here to discourage you from canceling. And, yeah, I cut the deal with Global. But, why I did that, it’s not about me. And it’s not about you either. You want to know what it’s about? Do you?”
“Yeah, tell me,” she snapped.
Bishop pointed to the filling seats. “It’s about them, KT. The audience. They are the only thing in the universe that matters.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re saying.”
“What you’ve got comes along once or twice in a generation. Your voice, your music, your stage presence, your writing … Do you know how rare that is? You know how important?”
His voice softened. “Music’s the truth nowadays, KT. We don’t get answers from religion or politicians; we sure as hell don’t get ’em from TV news. We get answers from music. The whole world walks around with those little earplugs feeding songs into their brains. Why? So they can learn the truth! They need people who can put into words and music the answers they need. People who take away their sadness, make ’em understand everybody goes through lousy times too, show ’em there’s hope, make ’em laugh.
“And for you, doing that’s easy as fallin’ off a log. It wasn’t for me. But it is for you. Tell me, KT, how many songs you think up in the last coupla days? Without even trying? How many? A dozen, I’ll bet.”
Kayleigh blinked and Dance saw that he was right.
“That’s a gift, honey.” A mournful smile. “Pushing you was never about me. It was ’cause I knew you had that gift…. I knew you’d be everybody’s shadow, KT. I’m sorry you don’t like it but that’s the hand you got dealt. You gotta play it.” He pointed out to the audience. “They need you.”
“Then they’re gonna be pretty disappointed tonight. Because this concert’s going on without me.”
With that, she was gone.
The two dozen people backstage were now all staring silently at the old man. He’d screwed up, probably intentionally not telling her about the Global deal so she’d go ahead with the concert. But Dance’s heart went out to him. He looked shattered.
But Dance’s meditations on the Towne family vanished at that moment.
She heard a familiar voice behind her. “Hey there.”
She turned.
Well …
Jon Boling’s common greeting, just like his personality, was easy, friendly. And more than a little sexy, Dance had always felt.
Until now.
She stared blankly. He gave a surprised laugh, apparently assuming she was caught up in whatever drama was going on backstage at the moment—all the somber faces. And he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her.
She returned the pressure anemically, feeling the weight of the blunt realization that he’d come all the way here—three hours—to tell her he was leaving her and moving to San Diego.
At least he’s got the balls to tell me face-to-face….
A line, Dance reflected wryly, that had a good country beat to it, though she guessed it wasn’t the sort of phrase that would ever appear in a Kayleigh Towne song.
Chapter 79
“YOU LOOK MORE surprised than I thought you would,” Boling said, stepping back from the embrace.
He looked around, an exaggerated frown on his face. “Your secret lover must be here somewhere. And, dammit, I bought a ticket. You probably got him comped.”
Dance laughed, though the sound only made her feel worse, a reminder of the many good times they’d shared. They walked to a deserted part of the backstage area.
Boling looked around. “What’s going on? Everybody okay?”
“Hard to say.” She couldn’t avoid the cryptic response.
He looked her over. “We’ve had the worst phone luck. I’ve been doing ten-hour days. And you, your mom said you were working on that kidnapping case. Some vacation you had, hm?”
My mother, my spy.
“And Lincoln and Amelia were here?”