Devotion (34 page)

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Authors: Marianne Evans

Tags: #christian Fiction

BOOK: Devotion
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“No matter what happens in the days ahead, I won’t go back to the emptiness I embraced before,” he said.

“It’ll be hard work, Kellen, but you’re right. It’ll be
so
worth it.”

He made an affirmative sound. “If clients want to follow me, fine. If they don’t, that’s fine, too. If Weiss wants to raise a stink about me leaving, let him. I’m ready for the battle. If I have to start from scratch, with nothing but moxie and hard-won experience, I’ll make that work, too, because God will meet me there. That’s His promise.”

Resting her hand on top of his, Juliet watched, and marveled. His excitement morphed into a contagious entity that stirred her heart. “Very true. And if you hang on to that fact, we’ll be fine.”

“Both of us?”

Juliet lifted his hand. She settled it against the spot where their baby grew. “All of us.”

Kellen kissed both of her cheeks. Standing, turning fast, he let out a whoop of happiness. “What do you think of The Rossiter Agency? Is that a good name?”

Juliet laughed, tears streaked down her cheeks.

“I haven’t been this excited in years.” He slid a hand against her waist to draw her down from the stool and pull her close. “This career change is going to be like premium fuel in a better engine. It’ll be smaller, but it’ll be smarter, and a whole lot more meaningful. Not just for me, but for my clients, and for the legacy I want to leave to our baby.” Once again, he rested a gentle hand against her womb, drawing light circles. “I want goodness back, and goodness doesn’t come from more, it comes from God. It comes from following the call He places on our heart.”

Kellen leaned forward and kissed her lips, claiming her mouth with a softness that caused Juliet to sway and nearly slide to the floor. “I’m behind you, Kellen, with all that I am.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, love. You’re not
behind
me. You’re
next
to me.
Always
. Please, please know that.” Unmindful of her increasing reaction, Kellen trotted to the exit of the kitchen. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to give Weiss a call and make it official. That’ll get him off my back. Then, there are a few client meetings I want to set up right away. I need to find out who’s brave enough to take this journey with me.” At the threshold of the kitchen, he turned back. “I love you, Juliet.”

She wavered once more, knowing she needed to remember how to breathe. When his smile spread, she gave up any semblance of pretenses and launched into his arms. Kellen spun her in a wide, dizzying circle. She thought of completeness and heavenly grace, knowing she found both elements right here in his embrace.

Like a diamond flash, he was gone. Juliet listened to him bounding up the stairs, to his office most likely. At that moment, she realized fresh tears rolled down her cheeks, fast, warm and fat.

Liquid joy.

 

 

 

 

32

 

Up to now, Kellen had functioned within a world full of people who thought nothing of saying just the right words, at just the right time, with no other ambition in mind than personal gain and the manipulation of good favor. He used to be able to tolerate it, figuring such was the nature of the beast he rode. If he could promote the genres he loved, he figured the struggles were worth it.

Tyler Brock, on the other hand, represented every positive element of the entertainment industry. Christian to the core, governed by his beliefs and nothing else, Tyler had been a client of Kellen’s for nearly five years. Beyond a client/agent relationship, Kellen valued the man’s friendship, insights and most of all his strength of heart.

The folks at In His Name Productions had stepped forward to finalize a great opportunity for Tyler, the details of which had solidified with perfect timing because Kellen had an offer of his own to make to the singer.

Tyler Brock didn’t live far away—they both called Franklin home. So, the following night, Kellen made a quick call to Tyler during his evening commute. Assured that his client was available for a chat, Kellen diverted to the farmhouse where the Brock family lived.

A half hour later, they were seated side-by-side on a long, wooden porch swing, sipping sweet tea and swaying slightly as nighttime rode in on pastel skies and shadows gone long against the hills and valleys that surrounded Tyler’s home. The air was cool, bordering on nippy, perfumed by the last of the heartiest summer flowers that rimmed the front walkway.

Tyler was Detroit born and bred, but a decade in the south had refined his natural gentility and propensity to take life slow and easy. Tall, with sand colored hair and striking features, he was the full entertainment package. He was boyishly playful; his clear green eyes were compelling. Best of all, he moseyed into life. He didn’t push, bully, and shove. He followed God’s path in faith and trust. That faith and trust had led the musician to phenomenal crossover success that remained firmly grounded in Christian roots. Plus, he maintained an amazing love affair with his beautiful wife Amy.

Kellen enjoyed the peaceful ambiance, but he was also eager to cut to the purpose of his visit. “So, in my capacity as your agent, I have to ask. How do you feel about performing at the LA Memorial Coliseum in a few months?” Kellen cast his friend a grin then took a deep pull of his refreshing, sugar and mint spiced beverage.

Tyler’s brows shot up, revealing pleasured surprise. He stretched out his legs. “Seriously?”

“Um-hum. You’ve been invited to perform at In His Name Productions’ annual
Days of Praise
, which I’m sure I don’t even need to tell you is their three-day extravaganza of contemporary Christian music.”

“I went to it once. It’s amazing. Amy and Pyper will flip. Zach’s just a baby—he won’t have a clue—but, man, what an opportunity.”

Pyper was Amy’s daughter from a previous marriage. Four years ago, Tyler had officially adopted Pyper, giving her his name along with the entirety of his heart. Last year, the Brocks had welcomed baby Zachary into their family.

“What would your advice be, as my agent and all?” Tyler’s question drew Kellen back to their conversation.

“Don’t walk—
run
to California.”

They burst out laughing. From inside the brightly lit house came the sound of a sweet voice raised in tune to the strains of a melodic piano riff Kellen recognized at once as the Twila Paris classic,
How Beautiful
. Pyper was practicing her passion—music.

“My protégée,” Tyler remarked with quiet pride.

Kellen listened intently while the youngster sang. “She’s fantastic.”

“She’s ten years old and sounds like she’s twenty. She’s got amazing natural talent.”

“And intuition.” Pyper’s music carried through the open front door. Pyper nailed the song, ten-years-old or not. “She’s such a beautiful girl.”

Tyler let out a harrumph. “You’re tellin’ me?” He shook his head, seeming to go within himself for a moment. “She’s such an innocent, but she’s already determined to enter the entertainment field. I’m not sure if I’m ready for such a thing. It’s a brutal industry.”

Kellen listened expectantly, realizing their conversation edged close to the territory he longed to explore.

“I mean, when did it all become so corrupt? There’s such a beauty in music, especially the kind of music that becomes part of your personal soundtrack. There’s beauty in well-made movies that take you to a time and place you’d never get to experience otherwise.”

“That’s very true.”

Tyler lifted his shoulders in a big, questioning shrug. “So tell me why it’s all so greed infested. Why is the entire industry so immoral, and awash in ideas that broadcast life styles and messages that rip away the fabric of everything that’s good, and right? Why?”

Kellen blew out a sigh, keeping the swing in motion with a push of his foot against the floorboards of the porch. Inside, Pyper launched into a sassy version of
Paved Paradise
. “The simple answer is money. The more complicated answer is ego. It gives people a taste of almighty power when millions of people hang on their every move.”

“Maybe so, but that pattern is nothing more than a dirt stain on something that could be beautiful.”

“Amen.” Kellen paused deliberately. “Know what bothers me about that scenario? I’m part of the problem.”

Speaking the words aloud, to someone he implicitly trusted, afforded Kellen the chance to test their weight and feel. And impact.

“What do you mean by that?”

Kellen didn’t focus on Tyler’s shocked tone. Instead he came clean. “I fuel that issue by always pushing for more. By scoring big deals for my clients and rejoicing in their monetary and career successes because I share in it. That leaves me culpable.”

Tyler watched him for a time, his expression unreadable. “Y’know, when you first signed me on as a client, and for a couple of years after that, you were on fire for the arena of Christian music. You still are—don’t get me wrong—but …”

When the sentence dangled and Tyler leaned forward, sparing him a probing look, Kellen battled the urge to squirm. He didn’t need a compass. He realized what was what. He maintained and genuinely cared for his stable of Christian artists, but various forms of jazz and soul music had taken the industry by storm. Music like Chloe’s. His focus had splintered.

Juliet’s beautiful features centered and focused in his mind.

“It’s the thrill of the hunt with you,” Tyler observed.

Kellen frowned and shot his friend a sharp look. “More like the thrill of the find. Of discovery.”

Tyler grinned. “Are you forgetting? I’ve been on the receiving end of your pursuits. It’s the hunt
and
the chase, pal.”

“And the
find
,” Kellen battled back. “Establishing a worthwhile artist in a worthwhile home.”

Despite their intense banter, Tyler’s affection shone in the warmth of his eyes and the width of his smile. “What I’m saying is, remember to keep fighting for the Christian message. Nothing else matters—and that’s what led me to sign on with you in the first place.”

True enough—and fair enough.
Kellen stared out across the darkening expense of Tyler’s yard. He scuffed his feet and ducked his head, concerned about wearing his truest heart and emotions out in the open.

“Kellen—are you OK?”

Kellen nodded.

“Oh, c’mon. Stop being the cool guy for half a minute and say what’s on your mind. After all, avoidance isn’t working, now is it?”

The blunt though gentle challenge snapped through Kellen’s restraints. He found himself unable to maintain outward appearances, that deceiving sense of ‘cool’ to which Tyler referred. Instead, he wanted to be known. “I’ve opted to make a pretty drastic change.”

“Like?”

“Like leaving Associated Talent.”

Kellen slid a glance toward Tyler, who would have made a fine poker player if his smooth, unruffled appearance were any indication. Then the words didn’t just come, they poured. “I can’t get into minutia, so please don’t ask me to. Suffice to say my life has changed, Tyler. I don’t like the direction it was headed. The work I do is a large part of that issue. I’ve risked the foundation of my life in order to savor the hunt you talk about and chase after success. Doing so has left a horrible taste in my mouth.”

“I won’t badger. Just remember, nothing’s beyond God’s repair.”

“I’m clinging to that truth with all that I am.” In the ensuing cricket song and leaf chatter, Kellen remained still.

Tyler’s brows puckered; his expression edged toward concern. “Tell me what you can.”

“During the past several months I’ve come close to losing everything I value the most. Namely Juliet.”

Tyler kept the swing moving. “Y’know? Amy and I? We’ve always enjoyed and admired you and Juliet. The two of you share something special. I knew it from the moment I saw you together at that record label networking party years ago. Remember that?”

Indeed Kellen did. A wispy fog of memories curved through his mind. Those were much happier, less complicated times. “Yeah—and the feeling has always been mutual.”

“So what’s the deal?”

“The deal is this: I messed up.” In automatic defense, he lifted his hands. “Please don’t ask for more than that right now. All I can say, from the depths of my heart, is that I’m fighting my way back—not just as an agent, but as a husband and a Christian.”

“And?”

“And that’s meant a big shift in emphasis. Therefore, I have an important question to ask you—agent to client and strictly on a professional basis.” Tyler nodded amicably and waited. “Would you…do you…have the faith to stay with me if I start an agency of my own?” Tyler didn’t react or say anything right away. “The agency would be smaller, and laser focused, driven by what I love the most—Christian music and maybe even Christian-centered movie production if God sees fit to make that calling a success.”

“How does Weiss McDonald feel about this?”

“We’ve already hashed out a separation package. My contract with AT is specific. I’m free to recruit and retain any client I brought to AT on my own. Those assigned to me by Weiss or the team in Los Angeles are untouchable.” Fierce determination skated through him. “That’s fine by me, because guess what artists I brought to AT? Christian artists. The ones I want to keep.”

Tyler leaned forward on his knees, studying the yard. “So you’ve learned the lesson I’ve grappled with for ages.”

“Which is?”

“The idea that less is definitely more.”

“Precisely.” Silence reigned.

“Kellen, I hired you, not Associated Talent. I placed my career in the hands of a man I respect and trust, not a company name.” Tyler extended his hand. “I’m in, and I congratulate you on making a smart choice.”

Was it this easy? This refreshing? It wouldn’t be like this every second, and not in every instance, but meeting with Tyler affirmed Kellen’s choices. He shook Tyler’s hand and nodded.

“Your backing will probably enable me to win over the majority of artists I most want to keep.”

Tyler shrugged. “If I can help, great, but that doesn’t hold weight in why I’m doing what I’m doing. I have faith in what God is laying out. You have faith in His actions. From where I sit, that’s a win-win situation. You’re a great agent. Nothing changes the talents God gave you in that regard.”

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