Kitty laughed. “Tell me, Mel: When did you find out about what they do?”
Mel seemed to relax completely at that, as she realized where Kitty was headed.
“The first time I saw them, actually.”
“Them?”
Mel nodded. “Yes. I’d followed the band to a dive where I’d learned they liked to hang out. It wasn’t someplace I should have gone into by myself, but I’d heard them play, and knew you’d want to sign them, so I…”
Kitty sat forward suddenly. “What happened? God, please don’t tell me you were hurt.”
“No! I mean, there was this drunk guy who did try to, well, he was pretty obnoxious, but Matt and the others heard the commotion, and they came storming out of the back room and…Well, they took care of him. Took care of me.”
Kitty gasped. “I am so sorry, Mel. God, if anything bad had happened to you, because I was pushing you so hard …”
“It’s okay. Really. And anyway, if you hadn’t…I mean, if I hadn’t decided to follow them into that dive, I’d never have met Matt, so really, it turned out okay.” She smiled brightly. “Better than okay, really.”
Kitty stood and paced to the window. “I pushed all of you too hard, Mel,” she said. “My father was pushing me, and I was dumping all that frustration onto all of you.”
She turned back. “It was wrong of me.”
“Ms. Konstantine…” Mel began.
“Kitty. Please. Call me Kitty.” She took a deep breath. “I have a huge favor to ask of you, and I’d rather ask it of a friend than of a subordinate.”
She paused and took another deep breath. “Besides, I’m not your supervisor anymore.”
“You’re not?” Mel seemed to forget her earlier misgivings as she sat forward, startled.
“No, I’m not. Or at least I won’t be, as soon as HR passes my letter of resignation along to my father.”
“You’re letter of…” Mel gaped at her. “Holy cats…you really quit?”
Kitty found a smile from somewhere. “I thought I might as well. My father made it pretty clear yesterday that if I didn’t get The Four Saints to sign an Opryland contract, I’d be finished here. And after my evening with Bart, I know that was never going to happen.”
“He told you?” Mel asked, tentatively.
Kitty nodded. “Told and showed.”
A thought struck Kitty. “You said ‘they’ came to your rescue. Does that mean all five of them…?”
Mel smiled. “Yes. I don’t remember it real clearly, but there were lots of growls and screams and, well, if you can imagine a bar suddenly filled with five very unhappy bears…”
Kitty laughed and collapsed into the other chair in front of her desk. “God, I really can.”
She shook her head again then glanced at the clock.
“Anyway, before we’re interrupted, as I said, I need to ask you a favor.”
“Okay.”
Kitty was glad to see Mel seemed genuinely willing to listen.
“I’m going to need to find another job, but I don’t think I want to work for anyone else, so I’m thinking about going out on my own.”
“As a talent agent?”
“Yes, but I’ve learned I don’t like the stiff competition of the big boys as much as I like helping new artists. You know: the up-and-coming singer or band who may or may not make it to the big stage, but is really talented and should at least be given the chance to make a living doing what they love.”
Mel smiled. “You mean like The Four Saints.”
“Exactly. I’ve also been thinking about your sister-in-law.”
“Meg?”
“You mentioned the other day that she’s thinking about soloing again, but she doesn’t want to tour Europe or even the entire U.S. Maybe what she needs is small-scale representation—to protect her from the vultures.”
“Like her father, you mean.”
“And mine. Exactly.”
Mel loosened up enough to cross one leg over the other and bounce her foot, a thoughtful expression in her face.”You may have something there,” she said.
“The thing is,” Kitty said, leaning close, “I can’t do it alone. I’ll need help—a partner or partners—to pull this off.”
Mel looked startled. “Me?”
“You, and possibly Bart, though I haven’t discussed this with him, since I’m kind of making this up as I go along this morning.”
“Wow,” Mel said. She met Kitty’s frank gaze, and Kitty interpreted her expression as hopeful. “Where would you want to base this?”
“Well, we’d need to find an office space and some up-front money. I’m going to sell my condo, so that will give us start-up funding, especially if the boys and Meg are willing to sign with us right away, giving us some immediate income.”
Mel started to nod but then shook her head. “I have a better idea—if you’d like to hear it?”
Kitty offered her hand. “I think we’re on the verge of becoming partners, Mel, so of course I want to hear it.”
Mel grinned and shook her hand.
“You’ve been to Bart’s apartment, right? Well, you may not have seen it, but he’s got a big front room—a parlor, I guess it would have been called—that would make a great front office.”
“We’d have to get permitted…”
Mel waved Kitty off. “That shouldn’t be a problem. You wouldn’t have seen it, coming in from the back as you did, but the street Bart and John’s house is on has several first-floor professional offices in a few of the old houses. So far there’s an attorney, a CPA, a piano teacher—that sort of thing.”
“Perfect,” Kitty said. “Do you think Bart will go for it?”
“I’m sure he will.”
“Great. Then I also want to find a small recording studio—or a place we can turn into one.”
“Recording studio?”
“Yes. You know what it was like for the Saints to find places in the city to rehearse and record when they were first starting out. I think we should offer that service for the young talents we find…”
Their conversation continued in that vein, as they brainstormed ideas for what their new agency could become. At one point, Kitty got up to finish packing, while Mel opened her steno pad and hastily scribbled notes. For a moment, Kitty forgot all about being unemployed and homeless.
Then her office door banged open, and she looked up to see her father standing there, his face a mask of fury.
“What the hell is going on in here?” he shouted. “And where the hell have you been?”
Kitty set the last of her books in a file box and closed the lid.
“Good morning to you, too, Dad.
“That will be all, Mel,” she said, turning to her new partner. “You can go get started, now.”
“Wait just a damn minute!” Konstantine shouted. “What do you mean by this?”
He brandished a crumpled sheet of paper at her, and Kitty was fairly certain of what it was.
“I’m guessing that’s my letter of resignation,” she said, stepping forward to lean against the front of her desk. She crossed her arms, hoping he wouldn’t notice her trembling hands.
“You can’t just quit!”
“I’m afraid I just did.”
When he began cursing in earnest, she held up a surprisingly steady hand.
“I’ve only preempted your own move, Dad,” she said. “You made it clear yesterday that if I didn’t come through with a new contract that put The Four Saints in Opryland, I was finished here. Well, they won’t be signing any such contract.”
“In fact,” Mel said, stepping to Kitty’s side in a show of solidarity, “they won’t be renewing their current contract with this agency, once it runs out at the end of this month.”
“You can’t know that!”
“I have it on the best authority, Mr. Konstantine.”
“Whose?”
Kitty actually laughed. “Good God, are you really so unaware of everything that’s goin
g on around here that you don’t know Mel is Mrs. Matt Saint? They’ve been married over a year.”
When Konstantine only blustered, Kitty shook her head.
“Let’s go, Mel.”
“You can’t just leave!”
“Are you ladies ready?”
Kitty glanced toward the door and felt a wash of relief at the site of Bartholomew Saint leaning on the door jamb, his hands in his pockets and a smile playing at his lips.
“Just about,” Kitty said. “Can you give me a hand with these two boxes?”
“Sure.”
“Trying to steal company secrets, are you?” Konstantine said, reaching for one of Kitty’s boxes.
“No,” she said, lifting the lid and tipping it toward him so he could see the contents. “Only a few personal items. The files you can have. I won’t need them where I’m going.”
“Just where do you think you’re goin’?”Konstantine snapped.
“We’re starting a new agency,” Bart said, “Kitty, Mel, and I.”
“The hell you are! What agency?”
“The Bear-Cat Agency, we’re callin’ it,” Bart said, winking at Kitty and Mel. “Don’t worry, Konstantine. It’s not likely we’ll ever be goin’ after the same clients—other than The Four Saints, of course. They’ll be signing with us.”
Bart walked past Konstantine and took up Kitty’s two boxes as though they contained nothing but tissue paper and bubble wrap.
“Shall we go, ladies?”
“You haven’t heard the end of this!” Konstantine snapped.
Kitty stopped long enough to look at her father, long and hard.
“I’ve never been able to please you, Dad,” she said, her voice sad. “God knows I’ve tried, but I could never be the son you wanted at your side. I’m sorry for that; sorry I could never please you; sorrier than I can ever express that I wasn’t Rand.”
“Don’t you talk to me about ‘sorry.’” he growled.
Kitty closed her eyes tightly and shook her head. When she opened them, her father was still glaring at her. She sighed and turned to follow Bart without another word.
She found Tina Carpenter standing behind her desk, an expression of shock and awe on her face showing clearly that she had heard every word. Kitty stopped and smiled at her former assistant. When Tina glanced fearfully toward the office door, Kitty reached out to lay a hand on the younger woman’s arm.
“We couldn’t pay you what you’re making here right away, but if you’re interested…”
Tina’s dark eyes got big. “Oh, yes, ma’am.”
Mel pulled a sheet off Tina’s note pad and jotted down an address and phone number. “Here, Tina,” she whispered. “Call me when you’re ready to jump ship.”
“I’m ready, now, Ms. Saint.”
Kitty smiled. “You should finish the month if you can, before you give your notice, so you can get another full paycheck. Then call us. We should be ready for you by then. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Kitty, Mel, and Bart headed out of the building. As they signed out at security, Kitty could tell by the shocked expressions that the news of her leaving had made it to the door before her. In another five minutes, she was loaded into Bart’s SUV, and they were following Mel out of the parking lot. She sighed but didn’t look back.
“I’m sorry, darlin’,” Bart said.
“So am I,” Kitty said. “I wish it could have been different between us, but Dad never forgave me for outliving Rand.”
“His loss,” Bart said, reaching for her hand.
“Yes. Mine, too.”
She returned the squeeze of his hand, grateful for his support.
“Now what?” she asked as they waited for a traffic light.
“Family meetin’ tonight,” he said. “You and Mel have some explainin’ to do.”
Kitty laughed. “Yes, I guess we do.”
It was actually a lot easier than Kitty had thought it would be, meeting with the entire family. They were gathered around Mark and Abby’s dining room table, and Mark was generous as he poured wine for the ladies.
“Bear-Cat, huh?” Matt said then took a swig from his bottle of beer.
“I like it,” John said.
“Me, too,” Meg said. “It’s all of you and Addy and Kitty, all rolled into one.”
“Well, it just popped into my head when old man Konstantine asked, but if we come up with somethin’ better, that’d be okay.”
There were protests around the table, and so it was settled.
“To The Bear-Cat Agency,” Mark said, raising his bottle high.
Everyone lifted their bottle or glass.
“How are you doing, Kitty?” Meg asked.
Kitty took a deep breath. “All right, I guess, though I’ve never been unemployed and homeless before.”
Luke snorted. “You’re hardly that. What you and Mel cooked up is a great idea, and I’m bettin’ we can make it work in no time.”
“Getting clients won’t be easy,” Kitty said.
“You already have two,” Meg said. “The Four Saints and me.”
“Really?” Kitty said. “Are you serious about touring again, Meg?”
Meg shook her head. “Not touring—never that, again. It would take me too far from home for too long. But there are local gigs I could get, with your help—and by local, I mean Tennessee and surrounding states. I don’t want to go too far. This is my home, and I like it here. But surely there are universities and music schools who wouldn’t mind paying me something to perform and lead workshops.”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Mel said.
“I could be your third client,” Addy said.
Kitty smiled. She liked Addy. The quietest of all six of the young Saints, she was soft-spoken, and oh so very talented as a song writer.
“We’d be fools not to take you on, Addy,” Bart said. “You write terrific songs, and some of them are just cryin’ out for a female star to sing ’em.”
“Hey!” Luke said, wrapping his arm around his wife protectively. “Candace, here, sings those songs real well.”
“Of course she does,” Addy said loyally.
“But I don’t like to,” Candace said, rolling her eyes toward her husband. “Not on stage. You know I don’t. So let Kitty, Mel, and Bart find some up-and-coming star to really do those songs justice. I mean, just ’cause the Saints don’t want to sing at the Grand Ole Opry, doesn’t mean Addy’s songs shouldn’t get there.”
There was a burst of enthusiasm around the table, and Kitty shook her head in wonder.
It is so easy for them, she thought.
Mel and Kitty had outlined their preliminary plans for the whole family over pulled pork and coleslaw, and everyone seemed to want in on it. Bart had agreed that his front parlor was the perfect place for an office, and Matt had an idea about a possible joint venture with the owner of a small recording studio nearby who was currently in trouble financially. The brainstorm of ideas seemed never ending.
“You still with us, darlin’?” Bart asked after a time, his voice a soft murmur in her ear.
She smiled at him. “Barely.”
“I think Kitty’s had it for tonight,” Mel said, and Kitty felt the warmth of her smile.
And how good it feels to have Mel for a friend and colleague, now, she thought.
“I think you’re right,” Kitty said, getting up from the table. “I can’t thank all of you enough for…” She broke off, suddenly at a loss for words.
Mel stood and gave her a warm hug. “I’m so glad you invited me to go with you, Kitty, she said. “I think we’re going to be great together.”
“You bet,” Matt said.
“I couldn’t even begin to succeed without all of you,” Kitty said.
Bart got to his feet and put his arm around her shoulders. “You were the spearhead on this one, Kitty, and deserve all the credit for it. And we’re all agreed it’s gonna be good for all of us, so let’s just call this a family affair
and leave it at that.”
In another few minutes, Bart led her down the back stairs and into the night. They crossed the alley and stopped between their two cars.
Bartholomew (BBW Country Music Bear Shifter Romance) (Bearly Saints Book 5) Page 4
