Grace Unplugged: A Novel (29 page)

Later that night Grace paced back and forth in her apartment, going from the kitchen to the living room and to her bedroom, over and over and again. Somehow she had to make sense of this—she had to figure out her life . . . her music career. Really, it shouldn’t be this difficult. Except that it was. It seemed impossible to decide, like her mind was split right down the middle.

As she gazed out her bedroom window, looking past the darkened street to where the illuminated cross glowed from the peak of the church, she was ready to call Mossy. She would politely tell him to forget it. She would refuse to lower her standards to appease him. She knew she’d been on what her dad would call the
slippery slope
—if she did not get off, she would probably crash before long. And what about the recent gossip she’d read about Renae Taylor, claiming the star needed to go to alcohol rehab? Was that where Grace wanted to wind up? She marched into the kitchen and took the last bottle of vodka, emptying its contents into the sink.
There!

But as she walked back through the living room, she paused to gaze at the Sapphire poster pinned above her couch—Gracie Trey, rocker chick in all her glory. She sighed. Could she really kiss that good-bye and walk away? After all, this was the big break she’d been waiting for. Opening for Renae Taylor was not to be taken lightly.

Now she noticed Randall’s photography book lying on the floor by the couch. Was that really the way she wanted to be portrayed? She flipped through the pages with disgust. Even the girls who had on clothes looked skanky. She’d heard Kendra say it enough times—it wasn’t enough to be talented, Sapphire wanted the
whole
package, and everyone knew that sexy was highly marketable. But was Grace willing to compromise herself to do this?

She dropped the book back to the floor with a thud, then went over to the table where she’d set the lyrics to the song she’d argued with Mossy over. She read through the lines, just shaking her head in dismay. How could she sing those words and pretend it was okay? She tossed the lyrics down. It was all wrong and she knew it.

At least she knew it in her head, but did she
own it?
She picked up Pastor Tim’s book now. So much of it had made sense to her on the road. It had resonated deep down inside of her. And yet to go there—
to own it
—would mean walking away from all this. She looked around her apartment. Okay, so this place wasn’t that great, and her car wasn’t that impressive either, but like Mossy had said, it was just the beginning. A year from now she could be living in Malibu and driving a Porsche.

But would those things make her happy?

She was pacing faster now, feeling more confused and frustrated with each step. Why was this so hard? Why was she unable to make a decision? She felt like that boat with no rudder, the one Pastor Tim talked about, being tossed and thrown back and forth with the waves. It all made her feel very, very tired and sad.

She took in a long deep breath, closing her eyes and longing for clarity. Then she fell to her knees, leaning forward on the couch with hands clasped in desperation. Quentin had been right all along. She already knew the answer. She’d known it all along. But was she ready to own it? Was she ready to admit that she needed God, to confess that she couldn’t do this without Him?

She bowed her head and prayed—honestly prayed. For the first time in a long time, she poured out her heart to God, laying it all before Him, asking Him to help her, begging Him to lead her . . . and to take her back. She didn’t know how long she prayed, but when she finished, she knew that she was not the same person she’d been when she’d started to pray. She was a changed person—forgiven and restored and at peace.

It was past eleven now, but she no longer felt tired. Instead, she felt energized and hopeful. She opened her guitar case, but before she removed her guitar, she checked the little pouch where she kept her picks. Digging down into it, her fingers touched the metal circle. She pulled out the ring her dad had given her shortly after her eighteenth birthday and slipped it on. And in that same instant it seemed to all fall into place.

She started playing the tune she’d been working on all these months, the music she could never write the lyrics for. But suddenly she knew the words, and it all made perfect sense. Words and lines and music all came together, weaving themselves into the form of a complete song. She played and wrote . . . and wrote and played . . . until it was all there. And it was good.

Chapter 24

G
race had no idea what to expect when she went into Larry Reynolds office. For all she knew, he might send her packing by the time she told him what was troubling her. But mostly she was relieved that he was willing to take this meeting with her. As she walked through the Sapphire lobby, she silently prayed, asking God to help her to speak honestly and to say exactly what was on her heart.

After their initial greeting and after Larry had congratulated her for climbing the charts, she spoke openly and candidly to him. She explained her concerns about singing lyrics that compromised her faith, how she was uncomfortable being photographed in a way that felt demeaning, and how she no longer wanted to perform in clubs where most of the patrons were inebriated.

“I just can’t do that anymore.” She choked back the emotion. “It’s not who I am, not who I want to be. I can’t do it anymore. I just can’t.” She looked directly into his eyes. “And I feel so terrible for letting you down. Especially after you all have believed in me, you’ve invested in me, I don’t want to let you down. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too, Grace.”

“Really?” She studied his expression, waiting for him to start the manipulative games that Mossy sometimes played.

“I’m sorry we let you down. I don’t want you to compromise yourself or your beliefs, Grace. You’re a fabulous singer, and you already have a fantastic fan base. I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t want you to compromise yourself either.”

“Really?” she said again, almost afraid to believe his words. “So you think it’s possible to succeed as a musician without compromising?”

He made a crooked grin. “Unfortunately it’s not a real common scenario in this business. But, sure, it can happen. And no one’s more delighted than I am when it does.” He grimly shook his head. “When I hear about one of our stars—like Renae—having serious troubles, well, it just breaks my heart.”

She nodded. “Yeah, me too.”

“So, really, it’s up to you, Grace. It’s your life. You gotta call the shots.”

“But what about Mossy? I feel guilty when I think about him.”

“Listen, whatever you do, don’t worry about old Mossy. You’ve resurrected his career more than you know. Seriously, Grace, you don’t owe him anything.”

“I don’t?”

He chuckled. “If it makes you feel any better, Mossy is already scouting his next protégé—Alyssa LaRue. Or maybe she’s scouting Mossy. Whatever the case, your success has really boosted Mossy’s status and, unless he’s a fool, he should be nothing but grateful to you. I’m just sorry he wasn’t more sensitive to your needs.”

“Thanks. I’m still not completely sure of what I’ll do.” She forced a smile as she stood. “But I do know what I
won’t
do. And it’s encouraging to know you understand.”

“I do understand. I really do. You know what’s at stake. And just know that I’m behind you whatever you decide. We’ll figure it out.”

He walked her to the door and, giving her a hug, told her that he was honored that she’d done her first song with Sapphire Music. “I said it when I first saw your demo, and I’ll say it again—you’ve got real star quality, Grace.”

“Thanks.”

Grace knew what she had to do. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was necessary. Although she didn’t have an appointment, she was going to pay Mossy a visit. The receptionist greeted her as usual, complimenting Grace on her recent successes. “Is Mr. Mostin expecting you?” she asked.

“I didn’t call ahead. Is he with someone?”

“No. Do you want me to let him know you’re—”

“If it’s okay, I can just go and announce myself.”

The receptionist nodded. “Sure. Go on through, Gracie.”

Grace braced herself as she walked toward his door. She could do this. God would help her. The door was ajar, and she stepped inside, preparing her speech. He was at his desk with his back to her and his feet resting on the credenza beneath his window. She was about to speak up when she heard him talking, and she assumed he was talking to her.

“I told you I’m gonna make you a star, and you better believe I’m gonna deliver on it, baby.”

“But Mossy,” she began.

He spun around in his chair, and she realized he was talking on the phone.

“Sorry,” she said with wide eyes, mouthing, “I’ll go.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” he told her. Now he chuckled. “Hey, Alyssa, guess who’s standing in my office right now. Miss Gracie Trey. Now if I could make that little girl a star, you ought to know I can do the same for you.”

Grace bristled at his words but continued to smile stiffly.

“I gotta go now,” he said. “But you just do like I told you, and I promise you, it’s only a matter of time before you’ll be nipping at Gracie Trey’s heels.” He laughed as he hung up. “Sorry, Gracie. I didn’t mean to make you feel like Alyssa was your competition, but she was having a bad day and needed some encouragement.”

“Uh, right.” Grace pulled the pages of song lyrics and the flash drive from her bag, solemnly laying them on Mossy’s desk.

“What’s that?” He frowned.

“Listen, Mossy,” she began. “I can’t even begin to thank you for all you’ve done for me. I’ve given this more thought than you’ll ever know, and I realized you were right.”

He blinked. “Right?”

“You said the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. And it doesn’t.”

“But Gracie—”

“I hope someday I can explain all my reasons for doing this, but right now, I just know I need to go home. But I want you to know that, with all my heart, I wish you the very best. Thanks for believing in me.” Her eyes were filled with tears now.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he said meekly.

“I do.” She nodded. “Take care, Mossy.” And she turned and walked out. Thankfully, he did not try to follow her.

As she walked through the lobby one last time, she knew that she had just burned a bridge, but she also knew she’d done the right thing. She knew that God was leading her . . . leading her home.