Page 29 of Saving Graces
Three days later, Hailey called Cassidy and Kinsey in for a meeting. They sat across from her in a downtown diner, a far cry from the upscale restaurants she usually picked.
“Sorry,” Hailey apologized, her face slightly flushed, “there was no time to make reservations and this place is near my apartment. I’ve got news. It’s big.”
Kinsey’s chest went tight and Cassidy straightened beside her.
“What?” Kinsey asked, her mind racing. Greta had literally only just recorded their demos. They hadn’t been edited, let alone produced or released to anyone yet, so no record label had been contacted. Had they?
“I got a request from a high profile agency early this morning, for you to play an opening slot on a tour that’s coming up. It’s not the whole tour, just the dates in Nashville.”
“Okay?” Cassidy’s leg had started bouncing under the table and Kinsey fought the urge to grab it and make her stop.
“It’s a big deal.” Hailey’s eyes sparkled, a barely contained grin twitching at the corners of her lips. “A major artist. You’re going to die.”
“Who?” Kinsey and Cassidy snapped in unison.
“Brynn Marshall.”
Kinsey felt dizzy. Brynn Marshall. The singer-songwriter of one of Kinsey’s favorite albums of all time? Brynn Marshall whose live concert made Kinsey sob like a baby? Not to jinx it, but what manager thought Kinsey and Cassidy were a good fit to open for Brynn Marshall?
“No.”
Kinsey’s head snapped to Cassidy, her bandmate pale and frowning.
“I’m sorry?” Hailey gaped like a fish.
“It’s a no from me,” Cassidy said, shrugging. “Our styles aren’t a good fit.”
“What?” Kinsey turned her whole body in her chair to stare at her. “Cassidy, it doesn’t matter if our styles are different, this is a massive opportunity. We would be insane to turn it down.”
“I said no, okay?”
“That’s… that’s not how this works,” Kinsey said, voice straining as she tried not to freak out. “We’re a team aren’t we?”
“Yeah,” said Cassidy, her face tight, “so I need you to listen to me right now when I say that this is a terrible idea.”
Kinsey opened her mouth to snap back when she realized Cassidy’s chin was literally quivering. She was three seconds from crying.
“Hey,” Kinsey said to Hailey, “do you mind excusing us for a minute?” She stood up and grabbed Cassidy’s hand, pulling her through the busy diner and out the door. She looked around, but the street was packed too. She tugged her down a side alley before she stopped and leaned against the wall and looked at her.
Cassidy’s arms were crossed tightly across her chest, both fists balled. Her eyes were filled with angry tears.
“Okay,” Kinsey said, taking a deep breath and trying her hand at diplomacy. “Listen, it’s okay. Tell me what’s happening here. Are you nervous about the crowd size? Is it because it’s literally Brynn Marshall we’re talking about? I’m scared too, but we can do this, Cassie, you know we can. It’s early, but we’re ready.”
“You don’t understand,” Cassidy said, some kind of desperate conflict in her face.
“Try me,” Kinsey said. Cassidy stared down at her feet. Kinsey reached out and grabbed her shoulders, trying to get through. “Cassidy. You can trust me. You know that right?”
Cassidy raised her eyes to search Kinsey’s, her jaw clenched tight. Eventually though, she nodded. It took her another full minute before she decided to speak.
“I don’t want to tour with Brynn,” she said slowly, “because she’s my sister-in-law.”
All the soothing words Kinsey had at the ready, fell from her brain. Of all the things she was expecting, that wasn’t anywhere on the list. The words weren’t computing.
“Brynn Marshall is your sister-in-law?” she said slowly. She tried to make the family tree work, then her brain exploded. “Brynn Marshall is married to Savannah Grace,” she said hotly, her eyes nearly popping out of her head as all the dots slid together in a line. “You’re… Savannah Grace’s sister.”
Cassidy closed her eyes. She looked like she’d just told Kinsey she was dying. She nodded.
“Cassidy. What… oh my god.” Kinsey’s jaw worked as her brain tried to catch up. “Of course you’re her fucking sister, you look exactly fucking like her, how am I that stupid?” She pushed up off the alleyway wall and paced several feet before turning and pacing back, her hands flinging up in the air. “That’s why you can get Greta, and why you don’t have to have a job and why she can buy us studio time - oh my god - Savannah Grace paid for our studio time!”
