Page 70 of From the Embers
“If it was a record executive on any continent, including Antarctica, tell them to check their pile of demos over the last hundred years. I’m sure I’m in there somewhere.”
She giggled melodically. “I get it. Trust me. I spent my fair share of time in the trenches too.” Slanting her head at the man beside her, she said, “This is my husband, Sam. Sam, this is Eason Maxwell.”
I extended my hand.
He met me with a firm shake. “Nice to meet you. You killed it out there tonight.”
“That was all your wife.” Releasing his hand, I pulled Bree against my side again. “This my girlfriend, Bree. Bree, Levee and Sam.”
Levee aimed her smile down at Bree. “I heard a lot about you today. I think your guy might like you a little bit.”
Bree tilted her head back and smiled up at me. “Well, the feeling is very mutual. I kinda sorta maybe like him too.”
“Oh, please. She loves me. Really, it’s more of an obsession. Though I think she might be holding out for Shawn Hill over there?” I winked and Bree pinched my side.
“Well, I have a feeling the rest of the world is holding out for Eason Maxwell now.” Levee laughed. “Hey, I’m glad I ran into you. We were actually on our way out.”
“What? Why? Isn’t this your party?”
“Yeahhhh,” she drawled, glancing around the room. “It’s good for the label, but this isn’t really my scene anymore.” She slid under her husband’s arm and nuzzled into his chest. “I’m more of a bathrobe, glass-of-wine, room-service-while-going-through-the-swag-bag type of girl these days.”
Bree put her hand to her ear. “I’m sorry. Did you say swag bag?”
Levee snapped her finger and pointed at Bree. “I see you’re my type of girl too. Don’t worry. It will be in your room when you get back. But listen, while I have you here, I have no doubt the offers are going to start rolling in for you tomorrow. But Henry and I would absolutely adore to have you join the Downside Up team.”
My whole body turned to stone and the oxygen that had been freely circulating in the room suddenly disappeared. “Like…as a songwriter?”
She grinned. “Sure, if you have words to spare. But I was thinking more along the lines of a solo artist.”
Bree grabbed my hand and gave it a hard squeeze, which I was only vaguely aware of through the surge of adrenaline roaring in my veins.
“I…um—”
She waved me off. “Don’t answer now. There are agents and managers and lawyers who need to talk first. But I was really impressed with you tonight, Eason. No commitments or strings attached. I’ve got a few weeks off. Maybe, instead of going home tomorrow, you could take a detour through San Francisco for a few weeks. I’d love to pick your brain on a couple songs I’ve been working on. We could even collaborate and see about getting a single out for you while the world is still aflutter with all things Eason Maxwell.”
“Oh wow. That sounds amazing, but I don’t know if I can do San Francisco. I have kids. Bree has to get back to work and—”
“He’ll be there,” Bree interjected, the tip of her high heel landing painfully on my toe. “Just let us know where and he’ll be there.”
Levee grinned. “You’ve got a smart lady there. Listen to her. It was nice meeting both of you. Good luck treasure hunting in the swag bag tonight.”
“Thanks,” Bree replied. “For everything. This has been an amazing experience for both of us.”
“You’re very welcome, but I’d be lying if I acted like I did do you a favor. You’re gonna be big-time, Eason. I’m just trying to get in on the ground floor. We’ll talk soon.” She looked at her husband. “You ready?”
Sam gave us both a chin jerk then threw his arm around his wife’s shoulders, and together, they sauntered to the door.
I stood like a statue, trying to process everything that had just happened. A potential record deal with Downside Up. An invitation to collaborate with Levee. Hell, even the prospect of her “picking my brain” could score me a cowrite credit on her next album. None of these were bad problems to have. Though I had no idea how I could get away for a few weeks to make it happen. A long weekend, sure. Bree would step in, and we could always count on Evelyn to pick up the slack. But weeks? As in plural. Logistics aside, I didn’t know how I felt about leaving Luna for that long.
The back of Bree’s hand slapping my chest snapped me out of my thoughts.
“Have you lost your damn mind? When Levee Williams asks you to come work with her, you don’t say”—she lowered her voice into a deep tone that sounded nothing like me, or at least I hoped it sounded nothing like me because I sounded seriously dumb—“‘Oh gee, I don’t know. Bree has to work. Who would ever babysit the kids?’” She slapped me again. “Are you insane?”
