AnnieLee perched delicately on the edge of the couch. She didn’t really know what a promotion campaign would look like, though she suspected that Mikey Shumer did. She still hadn’t called him back because Ruthanna had told her to stay away from him—but was AnnieLee dumb to have come here alone? Would Mikey Shumer have swaggered into WATC and made this pitch for her? Surely he wouldn’t flush with fear sweat the way she did.
“But let me get to the point,” Aaron Price said. “The thing is, you can be God’s gift to the radio waves and it’s still rare that you get something for nothing.”
“Pardon?” AnnieLee said.
“When I was coming up in the business,” said Aaron Price, “label promoters came rolling in with piles of cash, AnnieLee. And they’d make sure you knew that there were girls and white powder to be had, too—or maybe a nice trip somewhere, if your tastes were more wholesome. All you had to do was spin their record when and how often they wanted you to.” He laughed again. “Those were some crazy times.”
“It isn’t like that now, though,” AnnieLee said. She didn’t phrase it as a question, but it was one.
“No, no, that’s all illegal now. And heck, you don’t have a label yet anyway. But there are always ways to buy spins.” He held up a hand. “Don’t get me wrong—if you walk in here with a briefcase full of bills, I’ll be the first man to show you the door. But artists still need help getting their songs on the air. And the people who help them do it don’t mind…expressions of gratitude, let’s call it.”
“Like what kind of expressions?” AnnieLee asked, feeling a slight flare of alarm.
Aaron Price slid closer to her on the couch. “Maybe we should go to dinner tonight and talk about it,” he said. “You’re a smart girl—I can tell. You know it pays to have powerful friends, don’t you?”
AnnieLee lifted her chin and looked him straight in the eye. Maybe she shouldn’t have been shocked, considering he’d just been talking about bribery. But she was definitely offended. He was hitting on her in the slyest, lowest sort of way; he was making it out to be a business transaction.
“What do you say? I’ll have my assistant book us a table at Etch.”
She stood up and walked to the other side of his office, just in case he’d been thinking about putting a hand on her knee. “I think you should just listen to my song,” she said. “And then you’ll be the one expressing gratitude, because it’ll be the best thing your dang station has played in months.” She gazed at him defiantly, and he stared back at her in surprise.
God, I hope he likes my song, she thought, or I’m going to look like an even bigger fool than he does right now.
Then Aaron Price blinked. “Huh,” he said, almost to himself. “Huh.” It seemed as if he was about to say more, but instead he went over to his computer and clicked on the WAV file Maya had sent him earlier.
The song’s opening chords blasted into the room, followed by AnnieLee’s fierce, plaintive voice.
Driven to insanity, driven to the edge
Driven to the point of almost no return…
AnnieLee watched as Aaron Price started drumming out the rhythm on his desk. She paced in the corner, bopping her head to the beat. She was mad, and the song seemed like a perfect accompaniment to her feelings. She remembered pointing the gun in the trucker’s face, and then shooting a hole in his window and stealing his semi. It wasn’t a bad memory at all, now that she’d gotten away with it.
Maybe she should’ve told Aaron Price that story, so he’d know who he was dealing with. She made her fingers into the shape of a gun. Pow, she thought, and imagined shooting the fern on his desk to smithereens.
Take the wheel and just believe
That you can change your life
“Damn,” Aaron Price said when the song ended.
“Well?” said AnnieLee, eyes blazing. “Are you going to play it or what?”
Aaron Price smiled at her in a totally new way. He didn’t look sleazy—he looked thrilled. “Hell yes, I’m going to play it,” he said. “Just about every hour for the next week.”
AnnieLee gave a little squeal of excitement. It sure wouldn’t be appropriate to throw her arms around his neck in thanks, but she almost wanted to. She wasn’t at all mad anymore.
Aaron Price opened the door to usher her out. “All right, then, I’m guessing this won’t be the last time I hear from you, AnnieLee Keyes.”