If they were negative, she might never tell him. But if she tested positive for the gene mutation…
God, how she wished they’d hurry with those results.
She hadn’t played the celebrity card to try to speed the process. Didn’t pull the diva don’t you know who I am? Put a rush on it.
Maybe she should have because the wait was killing her.
“So while I have you, there’s something I wanted to discuss,” Dan began.
What now? She sighed. “Okay. What is it?”
“You haven’t been selling out the concert venues…”
Her eyes widened. “Because you booked all colleges. Students don’t have the kind of money we’re charging for tickets.”
“Angel managed to pack the venues when he was on the college tour with you before he left for Europe.”
She narrowed her eyes at the thinly veiled insult.
“Besides, college students fit in your audience demographic,” Dan continued.
“That’s not my only demographic. Yes, my fans skew younger but there are a good percentage of fans who are older too.”
He shook his head. “Every show should be sold out.”
“In Upstate New York? Seriously, Dan. You booked me in Oswego. It’s not exactly a hotbed of culture or easy to get to. It’s not Madison Square Garden. Hordes of people are not gonna flock here. What do you expect?”
Scowling, he said, “I expect you to fill the stadiums and you’re not. The fans are here. They’re back to college for the Fall. But they’re not buying tickets, which is why I think we need to make you more accessible as a personality.”
“More accessible? How?” She already had active profiles and fan followings on TikTok, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and YouTube, not to mention her own website.
What more was there? What more could they want of her?
“More live appearances,” he said.
She scoffed. “I just did ten months of live performances.”
“Not concerts. Appearances,” he clarified.
“Like what? Interviews? Talk shows?” She already went to every award ceremony and performed on every talk show they booked for her.
Besides, Dan might want her to do more with the media, but it didn’t mean the media wanted her. Without a new record dropping, she was becoming persona non grata.
The big networks and shows only wanted to cover singers when they had a new album coming out. Sadly, that hadn’t been for over a year. Worse, there wasn’t a new one in the works either since, as she’d mentioned, she’d been on the road for the past ten months.
She needed some time off to write and record if they wanted new music from her. More than just six weeks. But the label wanted her out on the road again with Angel right away.
It would take two of her to do everything everyone wanted. Maybe three of her if she wanted to have some semblance of a life outside of work.
“Not interviews.” Dan looked excited as he said, “We’re talking pop-up appearances.”
What the hell did that mean? She frowned. “Pop-up? Pop-up where?”
“Hear me out. What if you just showed up at like a high school dance or a college homecoming game? Or a wedding. You could sing with the band. It can become your thing. No one will know when or where you’d pop up. And with everyone filming it on their phones and posting it, that shit would go viral. Free publicity.”
The suggestion was so ludicrous she could only laugh. “You’re crazy. I’m not going to roam the country crashing events.”
Besides free wasn’t exactly accurate. These pop-ups might not cost what a concert did, but there were still travel expenses.
And what about her time? Wasn’t that worth something?
Were these pop-ups supposed to happen during her hiatus? The six weeks she’d planned to devote to working on new songs.
Damn Dan and the label. Didn’t she deserve a month and a half where she didn’t have to live out of a suitcase?
Her cousin crossed his arms. “Fine. If you don’t want to take the necessary steps to improve your popularity, then don’t blame me if the label drops you.”
“Drop me for not crashing someone’s wedding after all the money I’ve earned them?” She let out a snort. “Not gonna happen.”
“We’ll see.”
She whipped her head around to glare at him. Had he heard something? Did he know something she didn’t?
No. This was just Dan being Dan. Lashing out, getting nasty, because she hadn’t liked his idea.
Poor baby. Had she hurt his feelings? It had been the same when they’d been kids. Not much had changed except now she paid him an enormous salary to act like an ass to her.
She’d felt guilty that she’d recently emailed one of her friends in the biz asking advice about changing managers. Like she had betrayed Dan for even making the inquiry. She wasn’t feeling guilty anymore.
Now wasn’t the time to get into things with him. Not the time for hard discussions like the changes that needed to be made if their professional relationship was to survive.
He was right about one thing. The tour was over soon. After that, when they were back in Miami, they wouldn’t be attached to one another twenty-four-seven. This discussion was better had when one or the other of them could storm out of the room to cool down.
Since she couldn’t storm out of the back of the town car right now to get away from him, it was a good thing they were pulling up to the medical center.
She could worry about Dan later. Now she had to worry about the impact of this ankle injury on her stage career.
The driver pulled right up to the covered entryway and ran around to open the door for her.
“Do you want a wheelchair?” he asked, indicating the number of available ones parked just inside the glass entryway.
“No, I’m fine—”
Dan’s arm shot out. He pushed her back against the seat and leaned forward to address the driver. “Yes, she needs a wheelchair.”
“I thought it was nothing serious,” she shot at him with a good dose of attitude.
He scowled and reached for the door handle on the other side to let himself out while she pulled a baseball hat low over her brow and waited for the damn wheelchair.
Hiding her face had become a habit. Although the chance she’d run into a hoard of fans at an upstate New York orthopedist was probably slim.
“Holy shit! Luna? Bro, that’s Luna Blue.” The speaker had recognized her in spite of the hat she’d worn.
She sagged back against the seat, retreating into the shadows again.
As the driver returned with a wheelchair, she dared to glance out of the open car door.
She saw two guys. One was wearing a local college sweatshirt. She recognized the name as one of the many places where she’d performed recently. The other one, looking slightly older and a little bulkier, balanced on crutches, which explained their presence at the orthopedic center.
Dan had come around the car. He put himself in front of her, blocking her view of them and their view of her.
For once, she was grateful for his constant presence and his interference.
At least she was grateful until Dan spouted something rude and condescending about privacy and how they needed to buy a concert ticket if they wanted to see her.