Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
It was the least I could do. I truly wanted to support Anson and his career. How that would work exactly, we would soon find out.
Anson
THE CONTRACT SLID across the table toward me. I glanced around at the three men standing in the room. Robert, Bob McAllen from the record company, and Jim Mason from my publishing group.
“We want three more records with the option to do another Christmas album,” Bob stated with a wide smile.
I glanced at the other two men who wore similar smiles.
I looked back down at the contract. A year ago, I wouldn’t have thought twice about signing this. But a new contract meant a hell of a lot more songs to write. Then record. Then there was promoting three albums. I’d be going on back-to-back tours.
I rubbed the back of my neck as I heard Robert clear his throat.
“Anson, why are you staring at the contract?” Bob asked, a bit of snark in his voice.
I looked up at Robert, and he had a different smile on his face now as well as a completely different look in his eyes.
Bob leaned back in his chair. “You have a bit of a reputation for being the bad boy of country music. While I’ll admit, at times, it has caused me a gray hair or two, you know how to write and sing. Your fans love you, and we’re willing to take that risk on you again.”
I wanted to laugh in his face. I’d made this record company a lot of money over the last six years, and he certainly didn’t need to make that last comment.
Robert stood. “Gentlemen, would you both be so kind as to excuse us for a moment?”
Bob gave him a tight smile. Jim simply got up, slapped me on the back, and motioned for Bob to lead the way out of the room. Once the door shut, I looked at Robert.
He raised a brow and asked, “You want to tell me what’s going on? You haven’t been yourself since you showed up in Nashville yesterday.”
“I’m not so sure I want to do this anymore, Robert.”
His brow lifted even higher. “Are you saying you want to walk away from country music?”
I swallowed and lowered my head some. “I’m saying I might want to walk away from performing. I still want to write songs—I’m just not so sure this is my dream anymore.”
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “Does a certain Bristol Overmann have anything to do with this?”
“She plays some part in it. But the last month I’ve been home, I’ve felt a piece of me that was missing finally come back. I felt whole. I know I can have it both ways, but at what cost? You know how much I’d be gone promoting these new albums. I’d like to marry Bristol and possibly start a family.”
“Other artists have kids and make it work.”
“Yeah, and a lot of them take their kids on the road. I don’t want that life for Bristol or our kids. I want them to have the life I had growing up.”
He nodded. “That’s fair enough. What do you need from me?”
“I need some time to think. To talk it over with Bristol. She already said if I give her enough notice, she’ll come on tour with me in Europe. But asking her to put the dream she worked for on hold while she follows me around or have me leave her behind for weeks at a time—I’m not sure I can do it. No wait, that’s not true. I can do it...I’m not sure I want to do it.”
“The record company will want you to tour.”
“I know,” I stated, glancing down at the contract once more. “Can you ask them to give me a week, maybe two to make a decision?”
He drew in a slow, deep breath and then exhaled. “They’re not going to be happy about this and will think you’re after more money.”
“I know, but you sent me back home to figure out what I wanted. I need the time, Robert. All I’m asking for is one week.”
A smile came over his face. “I already see the answer in your eyes, Anson. You’ve already made up your mind.”
I smirked. “Maybe, but I don’t want to make any firm decisions just yet.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get them to give you a week.”
Standing, I reached out and shook the hand of the man who had made all this possible, and the one person who probably knew me better than I knew myself.
When Bristol got off the plane, she dropped her bag and launched herself into my arms.
Laughing, she kissed me. “I’ve missed you!”
“I’ve only been gone a couple of days,” I replied, kissing her back.
She let go of me, and I reached down to pick up her bag.