“Holy shit— look at this!” He shows his screen to Aiden, whose eyes widen. They both look a bit stunned as they pass the phone over to Ryder. I peek over his shoulder so I can see what all the fuss is about and feel my breath hitch.
The screen is full of dozens of results from the past few hours. They all have headlines that say things like:
Country couple’s onstage reunion: watch it now!
Fireworks in the sky — and on stage — at Nashville music festival
Each article has a video clip attached. Ryder’s finger taps the screen and suddenly, I’m watching a tiny video of…me.
Running onstage, barefoot, my hair falling out of its braid. My face looks totally star-struck as I slam to a stop ten feet from Ryder. He’s still singing the song he wrote for me, eyes closed. The audience is going insane as they wait for him to look up and notice me standing there. And when he finally does…
That kiss.
It’s magic. Pure magic. Like something out of a fairy tale. Scripted like a Hollywood movie.
I must make some small sound of concern as I read through the hundreds of thousands of comments piling up at the bottom of the article.
Blyss G:Omg, who are these two?! That’s true love right there!
Sumita M:Someone give them a record deal, STAT.
Taylor W:Is this on iTunes yet?
Sara E :Get yourself a guy who looks at you the way he looks at her…
“Wow,” Ryder breathes.
“Wow,” I concur.
“There are hundreds of articles just like that one circulating around the internet as we speak.” Francesca’s voice cuts through the fog inside my brain. I look up and find her watching me carefully. “Your love story — and your music — has gone viral. People want to know who you are, where you came from, what you’re doing next… They’re already emotionally invested. And if you capitalize on that momentum… if you letmehelp you do it… I have very few doubts about your future.” She pauses. “Does that answer your question about why I’m so confident there’s an audience out there for you?”
All I can do is nod. I’ve been effectively stunned into silence.
Francesca sits back in her chair and expels a sharp breath. “I like concrete numbers. Solid figures that support my reasoning. I never make an offer if I don’t know, with certainty, that it’s going to be mutually beneficial for all parties involved.” She reaches into her slim briefcase and pulls out a sheet of paper with about a dozen names and contact numbers typed in crisp, lowercase font. “These are just a few of the deals I’ve brokered in the past few years. All artists who signed with Route 66 and went on to do great things. By all means — reach out to them. Do your homework on me. Ask around. Everyone will tell you the same thing: if Francesca Foster makes you a promise, she’ll deliver on it.”
She reaches into her bag again, extracts a contract, and slides it across the table toward us.
Aiden has a shellshocked expression on his face.
Lincoln looks a little bit in love with her.
Hell,I’mhalf in love with her. I want to be her when I grow up.
“We’re going to need some time to discuss this,” Ryder says, squeezing my hand so tight I think my fingers have lost circulation.
“Naturally. Nonetheless, I will need your answer by tomorrow night — I’m headed back to Los Angeles on the red-eye. Keep in mind, if you accept this deal, we’ll want to bring the four of you out to LA as soon as possible, to get the ball rolling. Media attention may be plentiful right now, but next week there’ll be someone else in the news if you don’t take control of your narrative.” She rises gracefully to her feet and stares down at us as she slings her briefcase strap over her shoulder. “If you have questions, call me. My direct line is on that sheet. If you don’t like something in the contract, it can be amended. I’m all about transparency.”
We all rise to shake her hand, trading polite goodbyes. The boys manage to stay silent until the door swings closed behind her before exploding into motion.
“Holy shit!” Lincoln yells.
“Unreal!” Aiden grins. “Just un-fucking-real!”
Ryder is scanning through the contract, his eyes devouring the words on the page with such intent focus, I can hardly stand to watch. “This looks good,” he mutters under his breath. “This looks fuckinggreatactually.”
Linc and Aiden crowd around him so they can look as well.
I don’t move.