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don’t worry,
you’re dad is doing great. It’s just that after a nice, quiet week last week,
we’re kicking things up into full gear and this place is a madhouse now. There
are some documents concerning your album that need signatures.”
    Poor Becky. She could handle just
about anything, but she sounded beyond frazzled over the phone.
    “I’m actually out right now, so I can
swing by now and sign it, if that will work.”
    “Oh my gosh! That would be great!
Thank you, thank you, thank you Paige! You’re amazing!”
    “It’s fine, really.” I pause. “How
swamped are you? Do you want to try and get an early dinner?”
    “Actually, I would love to do that.
If you don’t mind waiting around for maybe a half hour or so. I just need to
tie up a few loose ends here, but I definitely need to end this crazy work
day.”
    “Sure! Not a problem! I should be
there in about twenty minutes.” I say.
    We hang up and I’m actually excited
to grab dinner with Becky. She always makes me laugh, and I somehow always feel
better after we’ve hung out.
Six

Paige
     
    I get to the office and make my way
up to my dad’s floor. Becky is bustling behind her desk, pulling papers out of
her printer and scanning her emails at the same time.
    “Hey,” I say, dropping my purse
down at a nearby table and smiling.
    “Hi!” she says breathlessly, hurrying
over with a file folder.
    Becky looks great as always,
dressed in an emerald green tunic dress that perfectly accents her bright red
hair. She opens up the folder and pulls out a few papers while brandishing a
pen from behind her ear.
    “So, here are the papers. Take a
look over them, make sure everything sounds fine and then sign the areas I
marked with a highlighter.”
    “Thanks.”
    She shoots me an apologetic look.
“I just need to wrap up a few things around here, and then I’ll be ready to
go.”
    “Becky, it’s fine,” I insist,
shooing her away. “Do what you need to. I’ll go through these, and then I’ve
got some things I can work on.”
    She nods and hurries down the hall.
    I take my time going through the
papers, but most of them are pretty standard, saying things like ‘I assure that
my original songs are truly my original songs’ and ‘I agree to promote the
album as dictated by the label.’ I rifle through the papers and then sign them
all.
    I haven’t seen Becky appear again,
but I’m not in any hurry. It’s only four-thirty. My studio session had been
scheduled somewhat late today, but tomorrow I have to be in the studio by nine
in the morning. I send Blake a quick text about getting together in between our
sessions tomorrow so we can work on our own song.
    After texting Blake back, I sift
through my emails, but they're mostly junk. When you don’t have much of a
social life, you don’t get many non-spammy emails. I pull up my calendar to
look for a free weekend to visit my mom, and decide that the following weekend
will work best. I send her a quick email and then see Becky making her way
towards me.
    “All finished,” she chirps. “Let me
just get my things together and then we can get on our way.”
    “I didn’t even check. Is my dad
here?”
    “He’s actually been tied up in a
meeting for most of the afternoon.” She looks at her watch. “I think he’s still
going to be a while.”
    “No biggie. I’ll catch him at
home.”
    We make our way out of the building
and Becky suggests a good Mexican place in town not too far from the office.
Once inside, the place is lively and bright, and a mariachi band is playing
near the front.
    “Wow, this is great,” I remark as
we’re shown to a booth in the back.
    “I thought you might like it. I
wasn’t sure how much of Nashville you’ve seen since you moved back here.”
    “Not much,” I say honestly. “I’ve
been so busy.”
    Becky nods, and we pick up the
menus.
    “They have really great
margaritas,” she explains.
    We start off with margaritas and
chips and salsa.
    “How is your