Killer Summer by Lynda Curnyn (knowledgeable books to read TXT) 📕

would come home at night and tell me the latest trials in poor Dani’s life. She didn’t trust men (her stepfather had abused her when she was a child). She was up to her eyeballs in debt. She just needed a little boost to get by, and Tom, dear Tom, was giving up his lunch hours and staying late some nights just to give it to her. But I suspected pep talks weren’t the only thing he was giving her.

I couldn’t find any proof, and what I needed desperately was proof. So I started to follow her, and believe me, this was no easy pursuit. Danielle Winston lived a seedy little life for a girl from Queens. In fact, one day I followed her all the way to a tenement building in the Bronx, only to discover that Danielle’s greatest passion wasn’t Tom but crack cocaine.

At least I succeeded in getting her fired. Tom didn’t care much for drug addicts.

But my quest was ultimately a failure. Because what I discovered during the long and weary nights I spent scouring Tom’s desk for a hidden token of affection for someone else, smelling his clothes in search of a perfume that wasn’t my own, was that I was looking for a reason to walk away from my marriage. Without accepting any blame.

Chapter Twenty-three

Nick

I sold my soul to the devil. I just hope I get a return on my investment.

When it came down to it, I realized I would do just about anything possible to make this label happen.

The problem was, I couldn’t convince Sage to do anything possible. “Look, Les, I did my best,” I said into my cell phone, my eyes on the ocean before me. “You know chicks. They’re fickle. She might change her mind. Maybe it’s a good thing, right? You gotta finish writing those last few songs for the CD anyway.”

With the fmancials I was working with, I was gonna need to see a return on my investment sooner rather than later. Which meant I needed to get the band into the studio as soon as possible. “So when do you think you’ll be done with the writing? I wanna book some studio time.”

“That’s the problem, man. I haven’t been able to write a word.” I sat up in my beach chair.“You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

“You know I don’t kid about stuff like this, Nick. I’m fucking blocked. I think Sage might be my muse.”

Oh, man. I was going to kill Sage. Okay, she wasn’t interested in Les, but did she have to shake her ass in front of him all night at the gig last week? I still didn’t understand why she didn’t like him. Les was a nice guy. But every time I brought up his name,

she glared at me. Then I heard her talking to Zoe about that Vince character she was apparently into now. That old guy from the party. And Sage said something about him having a kid. A kid! Like that was attractive. In fact, I bet if I put Les and Vince in a room together with Sage, she’d come to her senses—quick.

Which gave me an idea.

“Hey, Les, you really want to hook up with Sage?”

“Of course, dude, what the hell have we been talking about here?”

“Then come out to the beach tonight. We’re having a dinner party at the house for Sage.”

“You serious, dude?”

“Yeah, I’m serious. It’ll only take you a couple of hours to get here.” I gave him the Web site where he could get train and ferry information and directions. “Just let me know what ferry you’ll be on and I’ll meet you at the dock.”

“Hey, I owe you one, Nick.”

“Yeah, well, you can consider the debt paid in full once we get those songs recorded.”

“You got it, dude.”

I snapped my phone shut with a smile. I’m still in the game, as long as I keep the ball in play. I just hoped Vince would bring that kid with him tonight—and she spit up all over Sage midmeal. Actually, I wasn’t sure how old the kid was. Well, whatever. Sage wasn’t the guy-with-kid type. She was the hard-living, hard-loving musician type. The Les type.

Yeah, I’m still in the game. Picking up my cup of beer, I gazed down the beach, spotting Francesca, just as some lifeguard threw her over his shoulder and starting running toward the water with her as she laughed and squealed.

Jesus, somebody ought to put that girl on a leash. Like her father, I thought, looking up to find Tom squatting a few feet away from me, pulling something out of a Tupperware container. Mmm. Maybe it was lunch.

One look at the fleshy cluster in his hand and I knew it wasn’t lunch. Far from it, I thought, watching as he slid whatever it was onto the hook he held.

“You know, I couldn’t help overhearing,” Tom began.“Sounds like you’re having a little trouble with the new business?”

“No troubles,” I replied. “Well, just a little management problem with a band I put under contract. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Well, I know a thing or two about management, if you have any questions.”

I nearly snorted. This guy who made ladies’ skirts was gonna teach me about the music business? But then I remembered that Tom’s interest shouldn’t be sneered at. Especially now. And since I had clearly lost the interest of the daughter, maybe I should start working on the father. After all, I was going to need more money. I’d prefer not to launch this label with only one band. Especially a band with a lead singer who wasn’t going to stick to the program.

“Here’s the deal,” I began. “I got this band under contract, but I was hoping to get them in the studio to record sooner rather than later. I’d like to get their CD pressed in a few months. But these creative types, you know? You give them limits, and they’re always pushing.”

“Oh, I