AT 29 (40 page)

“If I still have a career.”

“You said you got a new a song.”

In late spring of 1979, the old Jimmy resurfaced in New York. I knew he'd reunited with my sister in Vermont. I believe that made all the difference
.

- Alice Limoges

There were several calls from Ellis waiting on the answering machine in Chillingham. Jimmy lifted the phone.

“So you're still alive. I was beginning to get worried.”

“I took a week in Vermont. What's the story?”

“The new guy wants to see you.”

“What does he want?”

“Well, let's see. He's cut most of the staff and three fourths of the budget. He's up to his ass in lawsuits. Cindy is in the studio with eight guys and two girls from London. And, all of a sudden he wants to know when you're coming back to work.”

“Back to work?” Jimmy felt his pulse quicken.

“Yeah. How do you like that?”

“But you haven't been able to find anything for me.”

“That's right. I'm striking out all over the place, but he seems to be raring to go. Cindy says he wants to get some of your old masters out. Stuff Daisy never released. He's hell bent to get going, but she's holding him back until you get a say in things.”

Jimmy thought about this for a moment, trying to remember what songs the new boss would want to release. Suddenly, he was very excited.

“Tell me about him.”

“Executive type, no nonsense, does everything by the numbers, very impatient.” Jimmy had no intention of delaying any longer. He was ready to return to Blossom and face whatever awaited him. Still, the urgency in Ellis' voice piqued his interest. “He's not like the people we're used to. Cindy says when he wants something he wants it right away. He's gruff, tough and not afraid to make threats. Right now, he wants you in his office.”

“I'll be there the day after tomorrow.”

“I'll let him know.”

***

The call from Myra was expected. McCabe did a weekly progress review with her. She listened patiently, occasionally offering a comment and sometimes questioning the merits of what Miles wanted to do. Yet the music business was not her forte. More often, she simply took notes. Her neck was on the line, too. This, she did not reveal to Miles. Today's call was different from the others. Her last report had been met with less enthusiasm than the others.

“I don't understand,” Miles, protested. “In six months I've stanched the financial hemorrhage. We're breaking even for the first time since they built this place. What more do they want?”

“I know, Miles. They're pleased, so far.”

“So far?”

“Some of them are asking about the top line.”

“Revenue? Do they realize I started with absolutely nothing? It takes time to make new music.”

“What about the groups from England? “They've been in the studio for two months. When will you be ready to release?”

Miles sighed. The new albums were taking longer than Cindy predicted. The London groups were struggling.

“Soon.”

“I need more than that.”

Miles rapped the desk with his knuckles. Cindy was right about the creative process, but the tone of Myra's question left him no room to be vague. “Two weeks. Tell them I'm going to push some new material from Jimmy Button, too.”

“Is he the one who got into trouble a few months back?”

“Yes.”

“I thought his band broke up?”

“I intend to use material he recorded a while ago, but never released.”

They talked for a few more minutes. Miles knew she was under pressure. He had to take the risk, but he couldn't predict what would happen. The music business was not like his corporate days when he could manipulate circumstances to his liking. Artists were, as Cindy said, a different breed. He finished briefing Myra and dialed the studio.

His voice became softer. “How's it coming?”

“Hello to you, too. It's coming, that's about it.”

“I need the albums now.”

***

The Manhattan apartment was unchanged, albeit dusty from being left empty for six months. He stowed his belongings, including the Gibson, which he vowed never to leave behind again. There were a few messages on the answering machine, ‘where are you?' queries from casual friends. He erased them all. The slip of paper with Marsha's telephone number was still on the table. He'd been celibate for a long time and he remembered the nurse's good looks. On a whim, he dialed the number, expecting to hit her answering machine. He was surprised when she picked up. It took a moment before he could collect himself and ask her out to dinner. She accepted with enthusiasm, agreeing to meet in the Village.

Ellis would be there, too, but only for drinks. He wanted to chat about the next day's meeting with Miles McCabe. Jimmy hoped Sonny would be on duty in the kitchen. Outside, the busy city streets exhilarated him. New England was fine, but there was something to be said for the energy of Manhattan. It was a special late spring evening, clear and warm. He decided to walk the twenty blocks to the restaurant. Ellis would be in the bar at seven, Marsha was due at seven thirty.

“Well, how about you!” His agent greeted him with an unabashed hug. “You never looked better.”

Jimmy accepted the compliment. “In shape for a change.”

“The change is good. What'll you have that isn't scotch?” Ellis beckoned the bartender. Jimmy settled for a beer. Ellis nodded, approvingly. “Keeping it light. Way to go.” Once it was placed in front of him, the agent lifted the martini he'd been nursing. “To new beginnings and better times.”

“What's the plan for tomorrow?” Jimmy asked.

“Ten thirty in Millburn. We listen to what he has to say.”

“He wants to release some of my old recordings?”

“As I remember, you had a whole raft of stuff.”

“Think it will find an audience?”

“Don't know. I doubt he's done any market research, no focus groups or trials. Tight with the funds.”

“Daisy never did any of that, either.”

“She had her daddy's money to bail her out.”

They talked for another half hour, catching up on what went on while Jimmy was away. The conversation came back around to Miles McCabe.

“He's a contract guy,” Ellis said, guardedly.

“Meaning?”

“He follows them to the letter when it suits his purposes. Breaks them when they don't.”

“Should I be concerned?”

“My advice is to go with the flow. If he's willing to push some of your old songs I think we should let him do it, cooperate all the way.”

Jimmy's antenna went up. “What aren't you telling me?”

“We, meaning you, don't have any other options. In my opinion he needs you and you need him. Let's say you release a new album and it makes a few waves, chances are he'll take the lion's share of the money. He'll use the Atlantic City mess as an excuse, and, who knows, maybe his argument will be legit. If we cry foul and call in a lawyer, he'll dig in his heels like he's already done with a lot of the others.”

“Are you saying I'm just an employee to him?”

“I'm saying you need to be flexible. He's the only one showing an interest in you.” Ellis downed his martini, stood and dropped a twenty on the counter. “Tomorrow, we need to play it cool.”

Marsha was fashionably late. She wore a white mini skirt, half way up her well-proportioned thighs, mated with a bright red blouse. The top two buttons were unfastened, baring plenty of cleavage. Heads turned when she came to Jimmy's side. Over dinner it was clear that she was ready and willing. She marveled openly at his recovery and how good he looked. He took her comments in stride while trying hard to keep up his end of the conversation. Too often, he found his mind wandering to the things that were uppermost in his thoughts, the chance to record again and perhaps get back in front of an audience.

Ellis was right. Money and contracts needed to take a backseat. The music was the issue. He worried that the new guy would want him to go with selections he considered inferior. The battles with Daisy still irked. He would not allow that to happen again. In this, however, he knew he had little leverage. Blossom owned his name and his music. Jimmy could only hope the guy had a decent ear.

Marsha chatted through his private thoughts, eating as she talked and showing little notice of his lack of attention. She was neither dumb nor superficial, but he was losing interest. The pleasant anticipation that accompanied his invitation to dinner was replaced with a more earnest desire to spend some alone time with the Gibson. Since talking with Ellis half a dozen old songs whirled in his head, songs he hadn't played for some time. He was eager to pull out the guitar and pick away. Maybe a few of them were on McCabe's list.

Sonny emerged from the kitchen and surveyed the tables. He spotted Jimmy and came over, wiping his hands on his apron. Jimmy stood and politely introduced Marsha. Once seated, Sonny dispensed with small talk and launched into a mild tirade.

“I need to get out of here.”

“Restaurant business getting old?” Jimmy gently chided.

“Customers complain too much. Dilettantes.” Sonny shook his head in disgust. Jimmy noticed Marsha watching as Sonny spoke.

“Come to think of it, my sushi is undercooked.”

“Perfect,” Sonny shot back. “Seriously, are you back for good?”

“I'll know better tomorrow when I drop over to Millburn.”

“Got some gigs?”

“Rumor is Blossom wants to release some of my old stuff. If it works out then we could be back in business.”

Sonny broke into a broad smile. “Bringing the band back together?”

Oddly, Jimmy hadn't thought about that. “Too soon.”

Sonny paused to look at Marsha. He smiled at her as if approving. Then he turned back to Jimmy. “Benson's been coming around.”

The revelation took Jimmy off guard. He looked down at his barely touched plate. “What does he want?”

“Wants to know what you're planning to do.”

“What about his band?”

“Never got off the ground.”

“Ralphie and Mitch?”

“Ralphie's up in Maine, fishing with his father. Benson says he's all done. Mitch went to Seattle with his girlfriend. He wants to settle down out there. Maybe hookup with a band, but no more east coast living for him.”

“So, we can't get back together even if we wanted to.”

“Core is still here. You, me and Benson, if you two patch things up.”

“Is that what he's angling for?”

“Looks like it to me.”

“What's he doing?”

“Nothing. I know he's been calling Cindy, too. Have you talked to her?”

“No.”

“Well, you'll see her tomorrow. She's working a couple of groups from England.”

He never made it with Marsha. After dinner he put her in a cab and, with a polite peck on the cheek, promised to call another time soon. She was disappointed, but held herself together long enough to ask if Sonny was attached.

Back in his apartment, he spent the night on the couch with the Gibson, strumming everything he could remember from the time before he met Daisy and became Jimmy Button. Occasionally, a performance at Passim crossed his mind. It was 4:00 a.m. when the guitar slid from his hands onto the floor.

Ellis met him at the Millburn campus. They climbed the familiar stairs to the second floor where Blossom's executive offices stood darkly vacant, a far cry from the days when Daisy had a dozen people scurrying around. As they walked down the hall, only one door was open, shining a fluorescent glow into their path, Cindy's old digs.

Jimmy braced himself. In the six months since their break-up, he had thought of her often, but none of those thoughts included what he would say when they met again. He didn't want to see her here in this place with so many memories. It would be better, he thought, if it happened in some neutral spot, unplanned and unexpected, maybe a party or a concert where they could hide their intimate history behind a casual hello. But she was behind her desk, facing the corridor. Ellis steered his way inside, unaware of Jimmy's anxiety. She looked up with her signature smile.

“How's the best looking woman in the music business?” Ellis asked, with cheer.

Cindy looked past the agent, staring at Jimmy who stayed by the door. “Prodigal son returned?” she asked, pleasantly, showing no hint of discomfort. “Welcome back, Jimmy.” She came out from behind the desk and met them both with a hug. She held Jimmy tight, not in a loving way, but in a caring embrace that said more than words could describe. It relieved him.

“We're here to see the boss,” Ellis announced, taking a chair. “Is he in yet?”

“He's always here. Arrives first every morning and leaves last every night.” She turned her attention to her former lover. “You look fantastic. What have you been doing? Jimmy decided to take refuge on a small couch against the wall.

“Taking better care of myself.”

“It shows.” She turned back to Ellis. “I suppose you want to know what's on Miles' mind.”

“Now that you mention it.”

“He wants Jimmy to put out some music.”

“That's what he told me.” Ellis nodded at Jimmy. “Depends on what he wants to put out.”

Cindy went back to her desk. “Be careful with him.”

“Is he serious about some of my old songs?” Jimmy asked.

“Yes. Likes all of it.”

“Why be careful?”

“He's not like Daisy.”

“That's good.” Jimmy never made a secret of his dislike for Daisy's tactics.

“No, I mean he's under pressure to bring in money. He called me last night and gave me a week to get two new albums out the door. He's going to put pressure on you, too.”