AnnieLee was surprised by how earnest he sounded. “You came to one of my shows? Why didn’t you introduce yourself?”
After a beat, he said, “I saw a video, actually, taken by one of my people.”
“Oh. I don’t know if that really counts,” she said.
Mikey Shumer laughed. “Well, it’s obvious that a cell phone video doesn’t do you justice. That’s why I want to meet you in the flesh, just as soon as you’re willing. I’d like to talk about what I can do for you.”
AnnieLee gazed out the streaked lobby window. The sun was already beating down on the asphalt, and the air shimmered in the heat. She could hear the shouts of kids splashing in the pool—kids who were visiting the country music capital with their parents, and for whom sleeping in this cruddy motel was a wonderful adventure.
Aside from her night at Ruthanna’s, this cruddy motel was the nicest place AnnieLee had stayed in years.
She curled a strand of hair around her finger as she considered Mikey’s request. Ruthanna wanted her to take things slow—AnnieLee knew that. Ruthanna said she should build a strong local fan base and a big catalog of songs. “Go out too soon, and you risk being a one-hit wonder,” she’d said. “You’ve got to be a little bit patient.”
But this morning, with a big cup of cheap, industrial coffee running through her veins and an expensive pair of sunglasses turning the world a new, warmer color, AnnieLee didn’t feel patient.
“Where are you?” she asked Mikey Shumer. “I’ll call a cab.”
“Please, don’t do that,” he said. “I’ll send a car.”
Chapter
37
You’re even prettier than I thought you’d be,” Mikey Shumer said, looking at AnnieLee appraisingly. “The photo editors are going to love you.”
Then AnnieLee stood very still as Mikey Shumer walked around her, scrutinizing her as carefully as a truck he was thinking about buying. This wasn’t how she’d imagined their meeting would begin. But then again, everything about this morning—from Mikey’s extravagant gifts, to the Jaguar he’d sent to pick her up, to the sleek steel-and-glass conference room in which she now found herself—had surprised her.
“Is that actually important?” she asked. She didn’t know what photo editors had to do with country music.
“When they’re putting together glossy spreads to accompany all those glowing AnnieLee Keyes profiles, you’ll make their job incredibly easy,” Mikey said, brushing what might have been a speck of lint from her shoulder. “Unlike a certain diva I know, who looks like an alley cat until she’s been in hair and makeup for three hours, and then she still needs a week’s worth of Photoshop.” He came back around to the front and gave a satisfied nod. “Hair: great. Face: great. Height: well, nothing to be done about that but teach you how to walk in heels. Have a seat.”
AnnieLee sank into one of the sleek ergonomic chairs surrounding the gleaming conference table, gazing at Mikey Shumer as frankly and appraisingly as he had at her. He was clean-shaven, with blond hair swept back from his wide forehead. He had broad shoulders and well-tanned skin, and his eyes were a bright, sharp green. He was so slick she could smell it—the kind of guy who could sell mud to a hog. But Mikey Shumer hardly looked like the monster Ruthanna had said he was.
“If I’d known I was coming in for an inspection, I’d’ve worn my clean pair of jeans,” AnnieLee said.
“I hope you’re not offended. Everyone in the business thinks these things,” Mikey Shumer said. “I believe in saying them out loud. It makes everything simpler.” He held out his hands, palms up, as if he were offering her something invisible. “If you think labels don’t care at least as much about what you look like as about what you sound like, well, then you’ve got a lot to learn. So it’s extremely lucky for you that you have other…assets besides your lovely voice.”
Two people—a stern-looking woman and a man with a baby’s face and a pro wrestler’s build—came into the room. Once Mikey sat down, they silently took their places at the table on either side of him. Mikey introduced Meredith and Hitch, calling them his “A team,” and then he crooked his finger, and a pretty assistant appeared to ask if anyone wanted a cappuccino.
AnnieLee asked for a double. She also wanted one of the fancy doughnuts on the platter in the center of the table, but she didn’t want to get powdered sugar all down the front of her shirt.