Page 62 of Falls From Grace
“We didn’t give you much choice,” her mom said shakily. “And I’m… I’m sorry I lied to you about your singing. You had the most beautiful voice, even as a small child. And afterward… well, I never heard you sing again. I told myself it was for the best, but I missed hearing your voice. It was a terrible thing to do to a child.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Brynn felt about eight years old, as she reached out to hug her mom over the gear stick. They hugged tightly, then her mother pulled back.
“Listen to me,” she said fiercely. “Thea is right. Chase your own damn dream, okay? Don’t you ever try to please us, ever again.”
“Uh, sure, no problem.” Brynn managed a smile.
“Nice digs,” Lane’s voice crackled from her phone a week later, as Brynn gave them a video tour of her new rental. It was just one bedroom and nothing particularly beautiful, but the light was nice and it featured a complete lack of roommates. Brynn loved it.
“What do you reckon?” Brynn asked Tucker as he popped his face into the screen.
“Reckon!” he replied.
“Do you just copy everything we say now?” she asked with a grin.
“Evwything we say now,” he confirmed.
“Let me tell you, as a paid employee, that is very unfortunate at times.” Lane shook their head.
Brynn was about to push them for an example to highlight exactly where they were falling down as a nanny when another call came in.
“Gotta take this.” She hung up. Ever since Savannah had broken off contact she’d gotten superstitious about unknown numbers. As a result, she seemed to be a wildly popular target from cold-calling sales lines, scams and political surveys.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Brynn Marshall?”
“Yeah, who is this?” It was a woman’s voice, but not one she recognised.
“Jennifer Landry, Sony Records.”
“Oh, uh… hi?” Brynn wasn’t sure she was ever going to be in the right place for whatever discussions about Savannah’s album had to eventually happen.
“Listen, I’m just walking into another meeting, so I’ve got to keep this brief. Bryce Campbell gave me a call. He had some pretty interesting things to say about you and told me to set up a meeting.”
“I’m sorry…. Bryce?” Brynn was unsure.
“Bryce Campbell.” The woman sounded mildly incredulous. “The head of the label? He saw you during recording with Savannah Grace in Nashville?”
“Oh! That Bryce Campbell.” Brynn smacked her forehead, embarrassed.
“I understand you’re LA based? I’m there on Tuesday with a free spot in the afternoon if you can make it.” Her tone was breezy, but at the same time absolutely assumed that Brynn would be there. “Do you have representation?”
“Representation? No. Do I need it?”
“I’d recommend arranging someone right away. I can send you some names if you need some?”
“I don’t understand.” Brynn’s brain was slowly catching up with her in a spiral of worry. Savannah’s boss, formal meetings, representation required. “Am I… being sued or something?”
There was a pause.
“No, Ms. Marshall.” Rebecca Landry sounded amused. “We want to offer you a recording contract.”
In the end, Brynn took Noah with her, and his agent, Bella. Bella was Korean and no more than five feet tall and between her casual sneakers and unassuming smile she didn’t seem like much of a threat, but Noah assured her that Bella was cut-throat.
“So,” Jennifer Landry said, as they all sat around a boardroom table. “The story goes that you’re getting a co-writing credit on four songs on Savannah Grace’s upcoming solo album and you’re a featured vocalist on what will likely be her first single.” Brynn swallowed. It was a lot to take in. Even just attending a business meeting where Savannah’s name was casually thrown around was a lot.
Jennifer was a glamorous red-head somewhere in her late forties, with striking green eyes and impressively sculpted arms. Brynn wasn’t sure if she was attracted to her or mildly terrified of her, or both.
