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given
things to wear. A record company and a management team had run every facet of
her career. And like she told Mike, she hated it. She hated her life. And since
admitting that fact, she'd started wondering how much control she actually had.
She'd been doing this since she was a child. The only serious career decision
she'd ever made was cutting her parents out of her career. Since then, she'd
relied on the record company people and Ken, her manager, even more. Her career
was solid, if not peaking the way some of her contemporaries were.
     
    But her personal life was a total disaster, and it
was totally harming her career. Ken was in the 'any news is good news' army, so
he didn't mind her personal disasters. He figured the news cycle ran at such
high speeds, if she was caught drunk on camera on a Tuesday and then had a
successful concert on a Friday that counted as a comeback.
     
    It was possible, she thought, that these people
might not have her best interests in mind. She put on fresh clothes and got
ready to go out, when she saw it: her cell. She'd left it on the bedroom
nightstand, and it had been completely forgotten since she got to this place.
She checked it, and like she expected, it was dead. She found the charger in
her suitcase, plugged it in and brought it back to life. There were seven
missed calls and a dozen texts from Ken, which could all be summarized with
"RU OK?!?"
     
    Fiona sighed and called him back. He picked up on
the fourth ring. "Fiona, hi."
     
    "Hey, Ken," she said. "Sorry I didn't
call you back. My battery died and I didn't see your calls."
     
    "Jesus, I thought you went off the road or
something. I was going to call in the state troopers."
     
    "I'm fine, Ken," she said. "Did you
know that Steve was having this place painted this week? There's some dude
painting the outside of the cottage."
     
    "Oh, shit," Ken said. "I didn't know.
Is he hassling you? I'll call Steve and have him get rid of the guy. You don't
want him telling anyone you're there."
     
    "No, it's okay," Fiona said. "I
talked to him. He's cool."
     
    "Okay. So, are you doing anything up there? I
don't want you to just sit there getting pissed all day."
     
    "No. I'm going to try the lake later today.
Maybe go for a run. I've got some stuff to think about. Actually Ken, I wanted
to ask you something. In your opinion, would you say that I work for the record
company, or would you say they work for me?"
     
    There was a long pause. "You work for each
other. You are mutually beneficial. By the way, are you going to be back by
next week? You've got appearances lined up, and if we're going to cancel
anything, I should give as much notice as possible."
     
    Now it was Fiona's turn to pause. How long was she
staying here? How long could she stay with Mike?
     
    "Fiona?"
     
    "I'll let you know tomorrow, okay Ken? I'm
going to leave my phone turned off for the rest of the day. I need some
phone-free time."
     
    "Phone-free time? You?"
     
    "Yeah. I'll call you tomorrow."
     
    She ended the call. That was enough business talk
for one day. She tossed the phone onto the bed and walked out of the cottage.
She climbed into the Lexus and started it up. She'd seen a book store in Green
Lake the day before, and she decided to head into town and find herself a few
books to read. She didn't read enough books. Hell, she hadn't really read a
book since the first year of high school, which had also been her last year of
high school. She'd left school to pursue her career, and her parents had never
held her to a tutoring schedule to make sure she graduated. Really, she had a
ninth grade education. But that didn't mean she couldn't find a few books to
read now.
     
    She drove to Green Lake and found the book store.
She picked out three novels, and also bought some notebooks and pens. Maybe,
she thought, she could write some songs. Or something. She didn't know anything
about writing, really. But what the hell, right? She was a celebrity. She could
do