by Raine Thomas
He pulled up her texts and re-read them all the time, as though they somehow gave him the connection to her that he’d been denied when Kaila showed up in that hotel room. Stopping himself from contacting her was an hourly struggle. Every time he considered doing it, Kaila’s hurt expression filled his mind. He had made a commitment to her, one he had asked Kaila to make to him. The idea of breaking that commitment was what ultimately kept him from responding to Rosemary.
It couldn’t keep him from thinking of her though. What would she think about this visit? Would she be happy he had made the decision to go? Would she have offered him words of wisdom and advice?
He guessed she would. Unlike him, she always seemed to know the right thing to say.
He hadn’t mentioned this visit to Kaila. Kaila’s father, Richard Gillespie, was CEO of one of the world’s most successful record labels, Mythic Records. Their fathers were both best friends and bitter rivals. It was what had driven Kaila and Sage together in the first place. Sage didn’t want Kaila inadvertently mentioning anything to her father that would then be discussed between Richard and his own father. Sage needed to have this conversation directly with his father, no preconceptions or misinformation between them.
Security inside the Linear Records building was tighter than it had once been. Sage underwent the scan through the metal detectors and waited for Garrett to gain clearance as his personal security. They both then checked in at the front desk like all visitors were supposed to.
One of the three receptionists at the desk greeted Sage with a polished smile. Her eyes widened comically when she recognized him.
“Oh—Mr. Strickland!” she said in a voice that carried. Heads swiveled in their direction, prompting her to calm down a notch. “Sorry. Welcome. You’ve already been cleared. Would you like an escort to your father’s office?”
It didn’t take a radar gun to detect her eagerness. “I’m fine, thanks,” he said.
Her face fell. “Of course. Enjoy your visit.”
“Thanks.”
He and Garrett headed past the main bank of elevators to the single bay that went all the way up to the top floor. It opened the moment they stopped in front of it, controlled by the eager receptionist. Sage got in first and Garrett followed.
“Pretty high-tech,” Garrett commented when the elevator started to climb without them having to press any buttons.
“Yeah.”
Sage didn’t feel like chatting. Garrett knew better than to try and push him.
Was it ironic that “Miracle Worker” started playing over the elevator’s sound system at that very moment? Today was the song’s official release day. It was bound to loop every hour on most stations, especially here in L.A. Sage still figured it had to have some cosmic significance to hear it on this particular elevator ride.
Of all the songs on the Eternal Muse album, “Miracle Worker” was Sage’s pride and joy. Sydney had contributed half the vocals and Archer the other half. Sage had manipulated the tracks until their two solo efforts blended seamlessly and harmoniously in hands-down the most powerful song The Void had ever produced. He figured it would make Sydney quite wealthy, though he wasn’t even sure she was aware of the agreement the band had drafted giving her a percentage of the song’s royalties. Keith was going to share that news with her when they celebrated the song’s release.
The song continued to play as the elevator stopped and the doors once again opened. Another smiling female greeted them. This one looked a few years older than the lobby receptionist but no less excited to see him. When his gaze did a sweep of the open space leading to his father’s office, he realized everyone seated at the rows of desks lining the way was staring at him. Some of them looked away when he made eye contact, flushing and pretending they were focused on their work.
“Hi, Mr. Strickland,” the woman in front of him said. “I’m your father’s personal assistant, Anisa. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Hi,” he said.
He expected her to direct him somewhere to sit and wait. Instead, she said, “Please allow me to escort you to Mr. Strickland’s—that is, your father’s—office.”
Ah, he thought. That’s why everyone is acting so weird. It’s because I’m the Big Bossman’s son.
“Sure,” he said, falling into step beside her.
“Can I offer you or your associate anything to eat or drink? I read that you enjoy green tea, so I made sure we had some on-hand.”
Puzzled over the consideration she was giving him, he shrugged. “Sure, thanks.”
“Okay,” she said a little breathlessly, bringing her hands together like his answer brought her immense pleasure.
As they passed the rows of desks, Sage picked up a few of the whispers being exchanged. The nature of the commentary was completely eye-opening.
...so freaking hot. Gawd.
He’s really here.
...ask for an autograph?
...want a picture. Ryla won’t believe...
They weren’t gawking at him because he was Abe Strickland’s kid. They were gawking because he was Sage Strickland, sound specialist for The Void, the hottest band on the charts. It belatedly occurred to him that he was likely among the biggest celebrities these people had ever seen.
He couldn’t remember ever being somewhere on his own where there was this kind of reaction. He wasn’t sure whether or not he enjoyed it, but he could admit it helped his self-esteem considerably to be the object of their fascination for his career accomplishments and not his parentage.
When they reached the double doors leading to his father’s office, Anisa gave a perfunctory knock and then swept in ahead of them.
“Your son is here, sir,” she said, turning and lifting her hands towards Sage as though he was a game show prize. “I’ll go and get your tea.”
She hurried past, leaving Sage and Garrett standing in the doorway. Sage allowed Garrett to give the inside of the office a quick scan before he discreetly stepped out and closed the doors, leaving Sage alone with his father.
Sage met his father’s gaze from across the expansive office. Much like the Linear Records building, not much had changed in the man on the other side of the desk dominating the far end of the office near the corner window. His shortly-cropped dark hair had more distinguished gray at the temples. His golden Strickland eyes had a few more lines worn next to them, and the frames of his glasses were now rectangular rather than the round frames Sage remembered. If he’d added any weight to the trim physique he’d always maintained, it didn’t show.
“What’s with the suit?” his father greeted him after their momentary staring contest.
Sage supposed a hello would have been too commonplace for Abe Strickland. Glancing down at his outfit of a short-sleeved plaid collared shirt, straight black tie, and blue jeans, Sage wondered what his father was talking about. Then he realized his father’s gaze had moved to the doors where Garrett had stepped out.
“That’s Garrett, my security specialist,” Sage explained.
His father’s brow furrowed. He walked out from behind his desk and waved Sage towards the small seating area to the right of the office’s entrance. Sage had never witnessed his father coming out from behind his desk for any conversation he’d ever had in here. It threw him off when his father sank into one of the two stylish chairs positioned across from one another with a small café table between them. Sage took the second chair.
“I hadn’t realized your security had become an issue,” his father said.
Was that genuine concern Sage detected?
“It’s not so much for me,” Sage said. “It’s more for Lily and Archer.”
“Oh?”
“They’ve attracted a lot of interest since House of Archer first aired. Not all of it is welcome. There’s a stalker who’s been threatening Lily, showing up in random places. She’s been getting some concerning e-mails...things like that. Archer felt it best to invest in private security for the entire band, at least until
the stalker is caught.”
“Do you think you’re in any danger?”
“No.”
Sage wasn’t imagining the relief he read in his father’s gaze. It once again put him off his stride. He’d pictured a much more confrontational meeting after the way things had been left between them.
There was a single knock and then Anisa hurried in carrying a bottle of the green tea Sage preferred. She also had a napkin, both of which she handed Sage with a wide smile.
“Is there anything else I can get you, Mr. Strickland?”
“No, thanks,” Sage said. “This is great.”
“Okay. If you need anything else just let me know,” Anisa said. “I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed.”
She turned and hurried from the room. Sage’s father watched her with a look of consternation on his face.
“Well, hell,” he grumbled. “I was going to ask for some coffee. You’d think my employees had never met a celebrity before.”
Sage felt himself growing warm over his father calling him a celebrity. It was an indirect acknowledgment of what he had achieved.
Pushing to his feet, his father walked over to the bar on the other side of the room and opened the mini fridge. “You’ve been the talk of the office since you called to set up this meeting,” he said, reaching in and pulling out a Coke Zero. Another change, as his father always used to drink Coca-Cola Classic. “It’s been all I can do to get everyone to do their damn jobs and stop plotting a way to get your autograph.”
The words weren’t spoken harshly or with any heat, but more with a gruff sense of pride. Sage had no idea what to say. He watched his father grab a glass and napkin from the bar and return to his seat.
“With this new song you just released, this ‘Miracle Worker,’ it’s only going to get worse,” his father predicted, cracking open the Coke Zero and pouring some into the glass.
“You think it’s that good?” Sage asked.
“It’s fucking incredible.”
His father had never censored what he said. That had sometimes irritated, often hurt, and occasionally embarrassed Sage in his youth.
Now it elated him.
“That your work on the layering?” his father asked after swallowing some of his drink.
Sage nodded.
“Utter brilliance. You’ll win a Grammy for it, mark my words.”
This conversation was in such direct opposition to what Sage imagined it would be that he couldn’t think of what he wanted to say. All of the carefully scripted commentary he had been working on over the past few days all fell out of his brain.
“Thanks,” he managed.
They stared at each other for another long beat. His father smiled a slow, sincere smile. “Damn, it’s good to see you, son. I’m grateful you contacted me.”
Some of Sage’s prepared script returned to him. “Why is it I had to contact you, Dad? It’s been nearly five years since we’ve talked.”
His father set his glass on the table between them. “You mean it’s been five years since you last accepted an invitation to a family dinner or holiday gathering.”
Sage frowned. Was that true?
“I think I stopped extending them four years ago since you clearly weren’t interested,” his father went on. “It took me a few years after that to realize that you weren’t just an obnoxious asshole whose head got too big to fit through my doorways.”
Sage’s jaw tightened and released. “No, I just got tired of hearing how I’d fucked up by signing with The Void and how I had screwed you over by signing with another label even though you refused to sign us.”
Rather than rise up in combative anger like Sage expected, his father nodded. “Exactly what I eventually reasoned out myself once I got my damn ego out of the way. ‘Why would Sage want to be around you?’ I asked myself. ‘You’re a raging asshole of a father who didn’t support him. Not once in his entire life. Now he’s more successful than you ever will be and all you do is try and make him feel bad about it. No wonder the kid doesn’t want anything to do with you.’”
Wow. The years had really mellowed Abe Strickland. It seemed Sage’s success had been the one thing that finally showed The Great Abe some humility.
“It’s not like you never supported me,” Sage said after a moment. “You did buy me my first mixer.”
“It was a secondhand piece of shit.”
“I still have it.”
That made his father grin. “Do you?”
“Yeah. It’s the best keepsake from my childhood.”
His father’s humor faded. “And isn’t that just fucking sad?” Sighing, he once again reached for his drink. “I owe you an apology, Sage, so I’ll just get it out there. I was wrong to try and turn you from your dreams all those years ago. I should have been more supportive. Just as importantly, I should have fucking signed The Void when I had the chance.”
An unexpected laugh escaped Sage. “Yeah, you should have.”
His father shook his head. “I admit I didn’t think the whole DJ thing would stick with you. I thought it was more of a hobby. You had never committed to something like that before, always experimenting with different creative outlets. I truly felt you were turning away from the opportunity of a lifetime when you decided against working here. It was sure a kick in the dick to realize I’d been the idiot who turned down the opportunity of a lifetime. Who knew?”
He sounded philosophical about it. Sage knew this industry was all about timing and luck. Sometimes the luck worked in your favor and sometimes it didn’t.
“I should have made an effort to talk to you before now,” Sage said.
“Maybe. I certainly hope I would have been big enough a man to swallow my pride and eat this shitload of crow I’ve been shoveling in for the past ten minutes.”
Sage smiled. “I should have been recording this.”
“I’d still deny everything.”
“Of course you would.”
They each took a minute to sip their drinks. It amazed Sage that he felt at ease in his father’s presence for the first time in longer than he could remember.
“You keep in touch with your siblings?” his father asked.
“Yeah. We’re all in touch on social media.”
“Gavin tell you he’s been accepted into UCLA’s graduate program for Aerospace Engineering?”
“No shit?” Sage hadn’t heard from his twenty-two-year-old brother in a couple of months. “Good for him. I’ll have to reach out and congratulate him.”
“Yep. Nash is still all over the place. I don’t think that boy’ll ever declare a major.”
“He’ll get the partying out of his system eventually,” Sage said. “He’s only nineteen.”
“He’d better or I’ll kick his good-for-nothing ass.” His father swallowed more of his drink. “Oh, and Kristen is driving.”
“Get out.”
“Yep. Got her learner’s permit last week.”
“I’ll alert the media. We need to clear the roads.”
His father made the sign of the cross and kissed his fingertips, blowing it towards the ceiling.
“And how have you been?” Sage asked.
“Can’t complain, especially now that you’re here. It’s a real load off my mind, I’m not ashamed to admit. I honestly thought I might not ever get the chance to see you again.”
Sage heard the slightest hint of emotion in his father’s voice. It made his own throat feel uncomfortably constricted. He grabbed his tea to take a long drink.
“Other than that,” his father plowed on, “not much has changed with this old man. I’d rather hear about you. What’s going on with this reality show of yours?”
Sage glanced at his watch.
“Don’t worry about the time,” his father said. “I cleared my schedule this afternoon. We can have a meal brought in if you don’t have somewhere else you need to be.”
Sage heard the hope in his father’s voice. Suddenly there was nowhere else he wo
uld rather be. So he and his father ordered sandwiches for themselves, Garrett, and the employees in the office—Sage’s idea—and he told his father about House of Archer.
He described Archer’s first meeting with Elijah Long and how he pitched the show concept to the band. He talked about the Under the Bridge Tour and how the show evolved to include Suddenly Something. He even went through some of the content and storylines since his father hadn’t had the chance to watch any of the episodes that he swore were on his DVR at home.
“This Lily sounds like the glue holding all of this together,” his astute father observed.
“She is.”
“No wonder Archer is spending so much money to protect her. Without her, you don’t have much of a show.”
Sage gave his father a dry look. As a man with two divorces under his belt, he didn’t believe in love.
“What?” his father said around a bite of his sandwich.
“Stop being an asshole,” Sage said mildly. “Archer’s protecting Lily because he loves her. They’re best friends.”
His father issued a grunt. “Sure can’t hurt that she’s helped bring about all of this recent success for the band. You said she’s even the inspiration for ‘Not Mine’ and the rest of the album?”
“Yeah.”
“Point made.”
“You’re hopeless.”
“Jaded maybe,” his father allowed. “What about you? Any hot love interests making an appearance on the show?”
The question made Sage look away. His father immediately noticed.
“There is. Who is it?”
“It’s not like that,” Sage said. “You know how I said we created a lot of the storylines to make the show more appealing to the viewers?”
“Sure.”
“Well, I sort of used the show to create a storyline that caught Kaila’s interest.”
“Kaila?” His father gave him a knowing smile. “You don’t say?”
From as far back as he could remember, Sage had memories of his father and Richard Gillespie pushing Sage and Kaila together. It hadn’t been overt, just scheduling a lot of meetings and parties that Sage and Kaila had both somehow ended up attending. When they started dating in high school, both fathers had been thrilled.
