AT 29 (79 page)

“Nothing's cast in stone until the contracts are signed. I'm open to suggestions.”

Winfield shook his head. “We already discussed this.”

“I can do three a week,” Jimmy said.

“That's not the issue,” Ellis shot back. We all know you can do them. Can you do them well is the question. Will you have anything left in the tank after you've sung
Peg
so many times that you're sleepwalking through the lyrics?”

“I'm sure we won't be doing three every week. There aren't that many venues. Besides, there's downtime between every stop.” Truthfully, Jimmy didn't care. Being busy would take his mind off Les.

Miles appealed to Winfield, “We can compromise, one week three, the next week two and so on.”

“Sure, but…”

Cindy cut the DJ off. “The wild card isn't Jimmy. It's everybody else. Kate is Rebellion's big draw. We almost lost her at the Beacon. The Riland brothers hate each other. One flare-up, due to exhaustion, and we'll be babysitting them all over again. Nigel Whitehurst has never done anything like this in his life. Eugene is always a worry. MacGregor is in the same boat as Nigel. I can go on and on. Every element of what we do has to be managed or the whole thing will go south fast.”

Winfield lost his patience, showing his dark side with a raised voice. “Nothing's going south! I'll be with Jim and the two kids. Ellis handles Whitehurst. If you're so worried about Kate and her nerves, why don't you hold her hand? We've got a golden opportunity to go big time. Quibbling about a few extra shows is a waste of time. We'll be leaving money on the table.”

Jimmy let the argument play out, watching McCabe's face as Ellis and Cindy tag teamed Winfield with raised voices of their own. He knew it was only a matter of time before Blossom's boss would end the stalemate. His opinion of McCabe was long since solidified. He was an able manager who had the intangible quality of all successful leaders, good judgment. Whatever he decided would be good enough for Jimmy.

They reached agreement by late afternoon. McCabe opted for a two and three schedule. Winfield continued to protest, but Miles stood firm. After more weak arguments, the DJ finally gave in, shaking his head in disgust as the meeting broke-up. The next day he met Miles in New York where contracts were signed with ten promoters. A million dollar payment was wired to Blossom's account by ten the next morning. Then the hard work began.

The artists went into the studios for days of rehearsal, defining and refining their acts. Ellis went on the road with Winfield to scout the venues for the first leg of each circuit. Cindy remained behind with Miles to supervise the promotional aspects including print ads, billboards and, most important, the staging that would be hauled by tractor-trailers from venue to venue. Flights and hotels were booked through June for all six acts. Employees were added including one special person McCabe had been thinking about for weeks.

Felix Massengill joined him for dinner in Millburn. He was intrigued by the invitation, not so much because his old friend was so often visible on the television a few weeks earlier, but because he earnestly sought Felix out for this long overdue chance to talk. They'd always promised to get together, but in the years since they both left corporate life, it never happened. Their only contacts had been the funeral of McCabe's wife and the phone calls when McCabe needed his help with Winfield. He wondered why he wanted to meet now.

Dinner was a casual affair, consumed with old stories from the past and some new ones about the ins and outs of Miles' new calling. They laughed frequently, telling jokes just like the times when they conversed together in the parking garage of the old corporate headquarters. After dinner, they moved to the bar. Miles ordered Jack Daniels while Felix, ever mindful of his law enforcement days, stuck with tonic water in anticipation of the forty-mile drive home. McCabe shifted the conversation to business when their drinks arrived.

“You ever think about going back to work?”

“Sometimes, when things get boring. Not much out there for an old guy like me.”

“I was thinking private work, not security like before, investigative stuff.”

“Private eye, like the television shows?” Felix laughed out loud. “No.”

“It's what you did for the FBI.”

“Well, sure.”

“Do you need a license for that sort of thing?”

Felix raised his eyebrows. “Yes, private detectives are licensed.”

“I have a lot going on at my company. I'm dealing with all sorts of new people.”

“What's on your mind, Miles?”

“There's a lot of money involved. I need someone to watch my back.”

“You think you might be in danger?”

“No, no. I'd just like to know more about the people I'm doing business with.”

“Winfield again?”

“Probably not. Your son did a good job putting him in a cage. In fact, we're partners. We started a production company.”

“Who?”

McCabe reached into his suit jacket and brought out a one-page sheet of paper with a list of names. “Winfield brought these people to the table. They're promoters who are backing a tour of my artists. I'd like to know more about them.”

“What are you looking for?”

“I guess people call it a background check.”

“Plenty of ways to get that done.”

“I'd feel better if I knew the person who was doing it for me. There's some other work, too. I'll have people on the road for months all over the country. You've probably heard of Jim Buckman and the young woman, Kate, who received Grammy awards.”

Felix nodded. “Watched the show.”

“We'll have security at all of their performances. I'm not necessarily worried about their safety, but I can't plan for the unexpected. I need someone with a practiced eye to look in on things periodically. Someone like you, who can tell when something might not be right.”

“What, exactly?”

“This is rock ‘n' roll. The trade magazines are full of stories. I'm not looking for trouble, but I'd like to know if it's coming. It's easier to fix before it gets too big to handle.”

“How much time are we talking about?”

“Whatever you can give me. There will be some travel to look in on the tours.”

“I'll look into getting a license.”

***

Les was gratified by Sister Marie's progress. After returning from the states, she followed the doctors' recommendations and arranged for the nun's transfer to a rehabilitation center. Her progress would be slow, but she had a chance to recover. Movement had returned to her left side. She could speak, albeit with difficulty. Much of what she once took for granted now required re-learning and patience. Sister Marie Bonaventuri was not patient. She wanted to get back to the orphanage and her boys.

Her days were filled with rigor. Hours of walking between rails in the morning and again in the afternoon sapped her strength, but she threw herself into it with determination. In between, a speech therapist coaxed her to regain the voice she once relied upon to control all that went on around her. At night, she returned to her bed, exhausted. That's when Les would arrive to share dinner with her in her room. They reviewed the day's progress like mother and daughter, but also like boss and employee because Sister Marie demanded to know all that went on at Saint Malachy's. Les detailed everything for her mentor. Most of that detail consisted of finances, which remained sound because this year's gala brought in almost double the amounts received in previous years. Due to Jim Buckman's surprise appearance, Sister Marie thought, but due to the able leadership of her protégé, as well. She could rest easy. Saint Malachy's was in good hands.

***

Alice Limoges arrived in Buffalo a day ahead of the kickoff of Jimmy's national tour. The huge staging was already in place and sound checks were being conducted when she slipped into the arena where five thousand fans would be screaming twenty four hours later. Mike Winfield was due to meet her in an hour. They knew each other well. They'd slept together a few times, even shared some coke. Winfield would welcome her back with the specter of doing it all again.

“Dispatches from the road. I like that,” Winfield said, enthusiastically. “McCabe will like it, too.”

“I need unrestricted access to everyone.”

“Like what?”

“I go with them wherever they go. Planes, trains, buses, I'm part of it all.”

“Great, you can stay with me.” He winked, lasciviously.

“Be serious. I want to give my readers the inside view of everything.”

“So, you want me to convince McCabe to let you do it.”

“To get close enough.”

“I'll try.”

It was a no-brainer for Miles. Her piece on the Chapel Hill Concert was all he needed to want more.

“She wants to tour with you,” he told Jimmy on the phone. “She'll do a piece on every concert. The free publicity will be worth a fortune.”

“She can be a bit wild.”

“I've heard that. Do you think it's a mistake?”

“Not for me. I've known Alice since we were kids. I won't be affected by what she might do.”

“So we'll take her on.”

“Keep an eye on her with Winfield.”

“Will do.”

When the three tours kicked off,
Back and Blue
had sold one and a quarter million copies. It was number four on the pop charts and holding steady.
Peg
had been in the top ten on the singles charts for ten weeks. It hit number one a week before the Grammy broadcast, remaining in that position for twenty days before being unseated by Rebellion's signature song.
Peg
was now number three and still generating plenty of gravy for all concerned. The four previous Jimmy Button Band albums, re-released
following
Back and Blue
's success, sold more copies than the originals. His six-year-old debut album was nearing gold. Rebellion's debut album went gold within a week of Kate's Grammy win, sales stood at eight hundred thousand. Miles expected it to go platinum soon. Weak Knees debut album was not doing as well in the States, but in Europe sales were strong. Ellis still considered this group to be a sleeper.

“The tour will be the best thing for them. All they need is some exposure like the Grammy Awards broadcast did for Rebellion. Sales will take off over here soon enough.”

Miles believed him. MacGregor's debut album barely made a blip, but Miles wasn't worried. MacGregor and the Riland Brothers would test the Blossom Presents strategy. If they rode the coattails of his proven stars, he remained optimistic that they'd be stars on their own soon.

The surprise was
Yarra
, already sitting at seventy-nine in the top one hundred with only Winfield's promos to back it up. As successful as everyone thought the album might be no one expected such strong sales so soon. Two cuts,
Just for You
and
Paradise
, were released as singles. Miles took a risk and loaded them into record stores all along the route of the mid-America tour. Money was rolling in. If Whitehurst proved himself on a live stage he would have to rethink his role as Weak Knees warm-up.

In his hotel room, hours before the opening concert, Jimmy felt the familiar nervousness. He'd just finished a long telephone conversation with Les. She listened as he described the staging and set sequence. Her only comment was an observation.

“You sound tight. You need me there with you.”

He answered seriously. “I keep thinking about us together at the piano. I'd rather be doing that. Nigel goes on in Columbus tonight, same as me. The others are in Richmond. Cindy's with them.”

“That reminds me.”

“What?”

“When were you going to tell me about her?”

“What did she say?”

“Five years. That's a long time.”

“We had a good thing until I ruined it.”

“She said it was your drinking. She also said you never really loved her.”

Jimmy didn't know how to answer. He still had questions about love. He was sure about his feelings for Les. Sure that she possessed him from the moment they met in Sister Marie's office. Everything about her filled his heart with joy and longing. The moments after they finished making love were new and different, the most contented he'd ever felt. But these weeks apart emphasized the distance between them. The pull of their careers confused him. He needed her by his side. Why did she resist? Would it be any different if he proposed? He'd thought about it often since her return to Australia.

“She was the constant in my life for a long time.”

“But, you wouldn't stop drinking for her?”

“It seems like a long time ago. Now it's in the past.”

“I miss you, Jimmy.”

The call ended like all the others, voices across the long distance unable to see each other, unable to touch, the longing to be close unfilled, the need to be joined as one, unsatisfied.

Miles called Cindy from the arena. He didn't like her being so far away from him in Richmond, especially on Blossom's big night when its pivotal tours simultaneously kicked off in three different cities. Fortunately, it was only temporary until she could break-in the new road manager he'd stolen away from none other than VooDoo9, its tour unceremoniously cancelled when ticket sales dwindled to nothing. He was on the verge of a decision. Their weeks of living together in her New York apartment amounted to the final proof he needed to confirm his feelings. He was less concerned about what others may think. If there was mockery behind their backs he'd try to ignore it. He loved her. That's what mattered.

“How's it going?”

“Kate's nervous, but thankfully, no heaves.”

“MacGregor ready?”

“Yes, very professional. Miles, I wish we were together.”