Authors: D. P. Macbeth
“He doesn't need one. Never had it before.”
Across the field Miles searched the parking lot, hoping to see Cindy's car. She was back with the Canadian, trying to put a sound together. She worked late most nights. Morning was her chance to get some sleep. Sometimes, in the afternoons, she came up to her office a few doors down from his, but most of her time was at the controls in the studio. Miles missed having her nearby. He shook his head, unwilling to admit it to himself.
He spent the day working through the plans for the tour. He spoke twice with Ellis in London, lining up schedules and logistics. Both men decided that an east coast run would be best. Colleges seemed to be the most welcoming venues. The University of Maine and Bates College came through right away. Miles decided to stay on that tack. By late afternoon he'd lined up schools in nine more states from Boston to Miami. It was all preliminary, contingent upon when Jimmy returned and how quickly he could assemble a band and rehearse. The call from the radio station came at five.
“Mr. McCabe, my name is Loren Phillips from WAGZ-FM in New York. We'd like to interview you on our morning drive broadcast.” Miles was caught off guard. He didn't have a ready reply. “Are you there?”
“Yes, forgive me, I'm not familiar with your station.” He grimaced into the receiver, embarrassed by the apparent insult. Loren did not seem to notice.
“My colleague is Mike Winfield. Maybe you've heard of him.”
“Yes, of course,” Miles lied. “Why do you want to interview me?”
“Cindy Crane mentioned your efforts to revive Blossom Records. We think our audience would be interested. It's not the typical thing we do, but FM listeners tend to be educated and more knowledgeable. Hearing from an executive like you is just what they might like.”
“I'd be delighted.”
As soon as Loren hung up he dialed Cindy at the studio. “What can you tell me about WAGZ in New York?”
“It's a new station trying to stay alive on FM. They hired a big time DJ a couple of months ago, Mike Winfield, very good and very smart. His fans love him. Why?”
“I just got off the phone with a woman named Loren. They want to interview me.”
“That's his sidekick, Loren Phillips. They do the show together.”
“She says it's about what we're doing here at Blossom, but I'm worried. Could this be an ambush? You know, are they simply angling to bring up Jimmy's meltdown at Atlantic City?”
“Winfield can be cagey, but Loren is a straight shooter. If she didn't say anything about Jimmy then I don't think they have an ulterior motive. Besides, aren't you the one who said no publicity is bad? If it comes up, so what?”
“I'm working on Jimmy's tour. I don't want anything to get in the way.”
“Like what?”
“Like a well-known DJ panning my moneymaker before he gets a chance to make us more.”
“Do you want me to call Loren and make sure everything is on the up and up?”
“No, it's my problem. I'll deal with it.”
“Miles, it's not a problem” Her voice was soothing. “Do your homework like you always do and it'll be just what you need to get the tour off well.”
He looked out the window toward the studio building. Suddenly, he wanted to see her.
“Dinner?” It was all he could muster. He hadn't asked a woman, other than his wife, to dinner in thirty-five years.
“I was just about to order Chinese,” Cindy replied, casually, “I can send some over to your office if you like.”
It must have been his silence that stunned her into realization. On his end, it was paralytic embarrassment. He wanted to take the simple word back. It was a business relationship. It could never be anything more. The pause between them was excruciating. He finally cleared his throat, ready to say âyes, do that.' She broke in before he could speak. “That's not what you meant.” She struggled for composure, breathlessly self-conscious like a teenager. “I'd love to have dinner with you.”
***
“I booked Miles McCabe for next week.” Loren was pouring coffee into two mugs in the side room off the broadcast booth.
“What did he say, exactly?” Winfield was reading the newspaper. He didn't look up.
“He was surprised. He said he'd heard of you, but I don't believe him.”
“Doesn't matter. What's happening at Blossom?”
“I checked the charts. Jimmy Button is making waves over in Australia. He's got a new album called
Button's Back and Blue
. It hit number one on the Aussie charts about a week ago. He did a mini tour over the last month. They love him. Goes by Jim Buckman now.” Loren dropped the last statement nonchalantly to see if Mike was listening.
“He looked very human on one of their TV broadcasts.” Winfield turned the page of his newspaper, still not looking up. Loren didn't know about the Today Tonight segment.
“What do you mean?”
“He did an interview on a big TV show. A friend of mine sent me a tape.”
Loren walked over and placed the full coffee mug on the newspaper directly under his eyes. “My next move is to spill it if you don't look at me.”
Winfield lifted his eyes, mischievously. “There was a song on the tape, part of the background when the closing credits came on,
Peg
. It's going to take off when they release it here.”
“Shall we make that the focal point with McCabe?”
“Oh, it'll come up for sure, but there's more.”
“Tell me.” Loren sat down opposite her on-air partner.
“Blossom's got a couple of British group's on the charts in Europe, too. It's a strange way to kick off new talent. The money's here in the U.S., but this McCabe guy's putting his people everywhere else.”
“Button's using his real name,” she repeated. “Resurfacing somewhere else isn't a bad thing. Build some recognition and then come home.”
“I hear he's coming back any day now. I have a feeling the Brits are coming here, too. If I'm right, Blossom is setting things up for a big splash. That's what we talk about on the air. In private, too.”
Loren gave him an inquisitive look. “In private?”
“Just an idea percolating in my head. I'll know better after the interview.” He went back to his newspaper. Loren let it go.
***
Ellis took the call from Benson LaSalle while he was eating a club sandwich in his London hotel room. The drummer acted like they were old friends.
“I'm available.”
Ellis played dumb. “Available for what?”
“Don't be stupid, word's out Jimmy's back in business.”
“You want to be on the drums?”
“Of course.”
“Didn't you lay him out the last time we were together?”
“Just a misunderstanding. Besides, he deserved it.”
“I thought you had your own band.”
“Just temporary until Jimmy got his act together.”
“What makes you think he's back?”
“Sonny says he did some studio work with him on the new album.”
“So? That's all it was, studio sessions.”
“Sonny also said Jimmy's pushing the album in Australia, but now he's coming home.”
“Why call me?”
“Are you his agent or not?”
“His agent, not yours. I gave you your release, remember?”
“That's right, but I've got a contract. It says I'm in on anything Jimmy does for ten years. It still has five years to go.”
Ellis knew about the contract. It was written while Daisy Overton still ran Blossom. Benson was part of a package of musicians she signed right after Jimmy's first album was released. Benson was assigned to The Jimmy Button Band when the first tour was put together.
“He won't take you on. I don't want you around, either.”
“That's what my lawyer thought you'd say. Just following his instructions before I file suit. My next call is to Cindy and that new guy. Just putting our demand on the table before we go see a judge.”
Ellis was not alarmed. Lawsuits were the norm in the music business. Most were settled or ignored according to the whims of the people involved. “He's got plenty of lawsuits on his plate. Another one from you won't mean a thing.”
“Who, Jimmy?”
“No, Miles McCabe at Blossom. He's not Daisy.”
“We'll see. If you're talking to Jimmy, let him know. Maybe we can get it settled between us. All I want to do is play. I'm not in this to make trouble.”
***
The dinner with Cindy was delightful, but it had its hurdles. She made the initial conversation easy with her charm. Miles was at ease within ten minutes of sitting down at a trendy restaurant on Millburn's Main Street. They shared a good cabernet, talked business for thirty minutes, then branched off to more personal areas.
“I know so little about you, Miles. Why did you come to Blossom?”
He took her through his recruitment, mentioning Myra, but skirting over his former corporate career. He explained his goals for the record label, including its eventual placement on the block once the finances were solid.
“It's only supposed to be a year, although I have to admit I'm beginning to like the work. It will be hard to let go if things really turnaround.”
Cindy was disappointed. Record labels changed hands all the time, bought out by bigger companies or simply passed around from entrepreneur to entrepreneur as the winds of change demanded. Still, in her mind Miles McCabe was different. He was so energetic and involved. He brought real discipline to the process. He was creative, too. He's the one who saw promise in the British groups and the Canadian she was currently working with. He had quick solutions to tough problems like convincing Ellis to shepherd things over in London and sending Jimmy off to Australia, not only to get his act together, but also to evaluate the Australian singer. He even recognized that Jimmy could help her when the Brits hit a wall. She had assumed his takeover at Blossom was permanent. Miles saw the disappointment on her face.
“It's only been seven months. Selling out at twelve is just a target, not cast in stone. The books have to be solid.”
She changed the subject. “Never married?”
“For thirty years. She passed away.”
Cindy kicked herself. Thirty years was a long time. It meant that his wife died not so long ago and more importantly, that such a long marriage had to be a loving one.
“I'm sorry. I didn't know.”
Miles showed no surface emotion. “Cancer. We found out too late and then she was gone. It hurt for a while, losing my best friend. I think of her often, but it's not as hard as it used to be.”
“Children?”
“No.”
She wanted to ask why, but stopped herself. Funny that such a personal question is always uppermost even when it's the last thing someone should ask. He turned the light on her.
“How's your relationship with Jimmy?”
“I had my concerns when we saw each other, but working together broke the ice nicely.”
“You didn't get back together?”
“No. Just friends.”
“No one else?”
Cindy gave Miles a curious look. What was that supposed to mean? Was he making casual conversation or was there something more to his question? He held her gaze for an instant then averted his eyes. Was he ashamed or embarrassed?
“No. This is the first invitation to dinner I've accepted since I broke up with Jimmy.”
“I didn't mean⦔
“It's a fair question. There's no one in my life at the moment.”
***
Jimmy rested for two days in Melbourne, taking in the sights and luxuriating in bed well past his normal wake-up time. He had a ten a.m. appointment with Sister Marie Bonaventuri. Sleuthing was not his strong suit. He still didn't understand why Miles wanted him to find some singer on the other side of the world. Now that
Button's Back and Blue
was doing well, the whole adventure seemed like a waste of valuable time, but Miles insisted and he was feeling too good about his Australian success to fight his boss. Besides, he should be able to evaluate the new singer quickly and get home by the end of the week.
The cab left Jimmy at the entrance to the orphanage. He climbed the same stairs, unchanged from the day Aaron Whitehurst carried his son inside. A janitor, sweeping the parquet floor, gestured to a grand stairway leading to the second level offices. Jimmy climbed the stairs mildly nervous. It had been a long time since he'd dealt with a nun, Sunday school back at St. Mary's Church in Chillingham. The memory wasn't especially pleasant.
He went over what he wanted to know. He had mapped the route from Melbourne to Airey's Inlet. It would be a long drive. No sense taking it if he didn't know more. Sister Marie's name was on the contract. That also was a mystery. Might as well get all the facts. Hopefully, it was a dead end. Then he'd be on a plane home in a hurry.
At the top of the stairs he followed a corridor to the open door of a neatly appointed office. He hesitated at the entrance, seeing the figure of a nun in full habit seated behind a desk. He lingered before making his presence known. Too late, the woman looked up, flashing a smile.
“Mr. Buckman?”
“Yes, sister.”
She rose from her chair and came over, extending her hand. “Come in, come in. I'm delighted to make your acquaintance. Your music is quite wonderful.”
Jimmy was surprised by her recognition. He guessed her to be in her late sixties, but with few age lines and bright, penetrating eyes. Her handshake was firm and welcoming. She turned back to her desk and pointed to a soft chair for him to sit.
“I know you're here about Nigel, but first, please tell me, how do you like Australia?” Her interest seemed genuine. Jimmy relaxed and settled into his chair.