Highway Song: A Smokey's Roadhouse Novel (30 page)

“
Okay, back to you by eight.
”
I hadn
’
t had more than four hours
’
sleep, but it wouldn
’
t kill me to make do with that for Amy
’
s peace of mind. I woke her up with teasing kisses and ignored the consequences to my own body. A cold shower would wake me up, too.

“
Why don
’
t you order room service while I get my shower?
”
I suggested.
“
And would you answer my phone and take a message if it rings?
”

“
Who would call you at this ungodly hour of the morning?
”
she answered. She
’
d pulled the sheet over her head to avoid my attention.

“
Don
’
t go back to sleep. We
’
ve got stuff to do before going to the studio.
”

“
I told you
…”
she started.

“
And I told you I
’
m not losing you. Never mind breakfast and the phone. Come get a shower with me.
”

She laughed.
“
Okay, I give up. I promise to stay put until you get out of the shower. You can tell me what you
’
ve come up with, and I
’
ll decide whether to listen to your advice.
”

The laugh did it. I
’
d won, and I knew it. I grinned and sprinted for the shower.

“…
so the PI I called is going to do background checks on the Perseid business office employees. Lucky it
’
s a small label, so there are only three. He
’
ll have preliminary results before we
’
re out of our meeting with Product Development. We can put off taking the paperwork to the business office until then.
”

She had a dubious look on her face, but she was listening. It was time to spring the other half of my plan on her.
“
We
’
re going to contact a tax lawyer about your problem with the IRS. The best thing is to tackle it head on. If you ever want to live a normal life, you
’
re going to have to deal with it. Why not now?
”

“
Can
’
t you go to prison for what I
’
ve done?
”
she asked.

“
Not according to what I saw online. If you try to cheat on them, or try to lie to the IRS, yes. But not for just not paying. Amy, this is the only way.
”

I chose to believe her big sigh was one of relief. I was ready to sigh in relief myself when she verbalized her agreement.

“
All right. I
’
m putting my life in your hands, Rex.
”
It was the one thing she could say that would make me anxious again. But it was time to man up. I loved her. I wanted her with me. Therefore, I needed to help her clear the way to be here.

“
Isn
’
t this expensive?
”
she said.

“
Mark knows a guy. He
’
s arranged credit on the basis of our contract with Perseid. We just have to hit the ball out of the park with that first single, and we
’
ll be able to pay.
”

“
We need to find a way to keep Mark around,
”
she said.

“
I know. I
’
m working on it. But we gave him half our money. There
’
s none left to pay him to work for us.
”

“
Whose bright idea was that?
”
she teased.

As I suspected, there were no obvious cartel connections among the business office employees. It was getting less and less difficult to convince Amy that her fears were the product of paranoia, no matter how much reason she had for it. She was still skittish about her name, though, and insisted on meeting with the business office by herself. I couldn
’
t care less what her real name was, but it nagged at me that she didn
’
t trust me. I tried not to take it personally, so I didn
’
t say anything.

Amy still had to meet with the tax attorney Mark found for her in the midst of looking for his next project. At least she didn
’
t have to worry about contacting one. Mark had done it, giving the gist of the problem, and the attorney had said he could help. Her appointment was on Thursday. Once we all turned in our paperwork, Amy included, that distraction was behind us, and we were able to get to work.

In the meanwhile, we had planning to do. The questions were endless. What did we call our fusion sound? Nothing? No ideas? We
’
d have to come with a name for it. No, Southern Folk Rock wouldn
’
t do. Did we have any originals? Did Amy have a part in them? We
’
d have to fix that, they said, when the answer was no.

Even the New Media department got involved in these meetings. We were to have a website, a Facebook page, a Twitter account, and more. Not to mention the videos. All had to be coordinated, and the results had to represent our sound. What we did that week was so far removed from what we thought our job was that we weren
’
t sure we hadn
’
t entered an alternate universe.

In the evenings, after we
’
d eaten, processed the day with each other and the other band members and started to relax, I sat at the work desk in our room and did my best to write lyrics that represented both our genres. Amy helped by critiquing the work as I progressed. Once we were satisfied with lyrics, we
’
d get the band involved with putting music to them. It wasn
’
t necessarily the way I
’
d always done it, and definitely had its drawbacks, not to have the music to help me make sure the verses and chorus fit the music right. However, any other way right now would be too chaotic, and the rooms really weren
’
t big enough for everyone to work in them anyway. That kind of a collaborative environment would have to wait until we had our own place or places. I couldn
’
t wait.

The first weekend came, and it was strange we
’
d worked all week and would now have two days off. Cole observed if he
’
d wanted a nine-to-five, he
’
d have stayed in Oklahoma City, where he could keep an eye on his mama and three sisters. I personally would have done anything I possibly could to leave under those circumstances.

I
’
d only ever had one sister
—
a stepsister of course. She
’
d been enough of a brat to make me forever be glad I didn
’
t have any permanent ones. Although, her sad look as I drove off with Mom on the day we left made me kind of sorry we had to leave her behind. She wasn
’
t
that
bad. Still, with what happened to Mom only a few years later, it would have been bad if I
’
d been saddled with someone else to look after. I
’
d barely made my own way for the first few years. Truthfully, this very moment was the first time I had any hope of financial stability.

We
’
d discussed what we wanted to do about housing. Not one of us was in a position to buy a place, and, in fact, the label would have to get involved for us to even rent. But the payment would come from our paychecks, and later from royalties alone. We didn
’
t want anything too expensive, or that we
’
d have to sign a long lease on.

California wasn
’
t the place to go looking for cheap housing, though. What we ended up with was a couple of furnished rentals near each other that the label arranged with an executive rental outfit. The larger one, with three bedrooms and a family room, housed Axel, Cole and Amy with me. Chad moved into the second one with the new bassist, a studio musician the label found for us and signed separately. He
’
d been looking for a place anyway, and he and Chad hit it off okay. His name was Jimmy.

Before we knew it, we were settled in our new digs and into our new routine.

Amy

I
managed to get the business office to understand that I signed the contracts with a stage name because I wanted privacy and to keep my family at bay, suggesting that there were hordes of relatives waiting to storm the studio if they thought I was making any money. That satisfied that question. They were taken aback when I asked them to make sure they addressed me as Amy Brown even within the confines of the offices. Nevertheless, they agreed to keep my real name confidential, even from my band mates and other Perseid employees.

That was the first hurdle, and I
’
d negotiated it successfully. The next one would be to meet with my tax lawyer without Rex tagging along. Fortunately, he was tied up in Prodev meetings, so he kissed me swiftly and went back to work with a good luck wish. Luck was with me so far.

Meeting with the attorney had its own challenges. I had no choice but to tell him
why
I
’
d lived the way I had for the past twelve years. Telling the painful story again, I focused on the facts. Only the attorney
’
s stunned expression gave any hint of the devastation of my life from an early age. I didn
’
t cry. I kept my neutral tone of voice as I detailed horrors no teenager, no woman even, should have to go through. When I was done, I sat waiting for him to tell me my chances of reconciling with the Internal Revenue Service.

After a few moments, he said,
“
Ms. Bruno, I
’
m not sure I
’
ve ever heard such an awful, and if I may say so, unlikely story. Do you have proof of any of this?
”

I couldn
’
t believe he
’
d ask me that. And, in fact, I had little in the way of proof. Tiny white burn scars, years old, on my arms and breasts, but I could have done that to myself. I stood.
“
No, I have no proof. If that
’
s what it takes, I guess I
’
ll just have to take my chances.
”

“
Sit down, Ms. Bruno. I didn
’
t say you had to have it. I merely asked if you did. The IRS will ask as well. Do you recall in detail where you worked under the table, or do you have records of your earnings?
”
he asked.

“
No records. I made enough to get by, and to move on when I felt threatened. I can remember some of the places, but not all. I didn
’
t keep records of that either. I had to travel rather lightly,
”
I added, putting a sarcastic twist on it.

“
Get me a list of everywhere you remember, with the dates to the best of your recollection. I
’
ll have to track down at least some of them. I have to say, it will be difficult to get their cooperation. They should never have paid you under the table.
”

His statement showed his bias. He disapproved. He hadn
’
t been the person who had to make the decision when I begged to work without benefit of paperwork because an abusive boyfriend was after me, or whatever story I made up as I moved from place to place. I wouldn
’
t blame them if they wouldn
’
t cooperate. I
’
d never meant to get them in trouble.