She saw the determined look in his eye and giggled. “You’re not going to let this rest are you?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Start writing, Kitty. I’m giving you 24 hours to come up with something. Go home. Knock something out in that swanky recording studio of yours at home and messenger it over to me before you leave for Philly.” His eyes took on a new level of intensity. “And this may help you get through your personal challenges right now too. You’ve gotta get it out somehow. Turn it into art.”
She nodded. He did have a point. “Ok. I’ll see what I can come up with.”
He donned a satisfied grin and got up. He picked up the phone on his desk and made a call. “Gimme Anton… Yeah, it’s Lew and it’s urgent. I don’t care if he’s in a session. Drag his ass out of studio A.”
He waited while Kit watched, wondering what he was up to. Seconds later she heard him speak again. “A-Dub, you’re doing a session later at six. It’s a favor to me for a new artist we’re developing, the name’s Kit-Kat. Work the boards, do your magic… Yep, mix and master too. It’s gotta be finished by four a.m. You got me? Great, here’s the address.” He rattled off Kit’s address. “Thanks.”
He hung up the phone and headed back to the leather sofa across from her. He leaned on his elbows perching on his knees. “Just get started is all I ask. You’ve got one of the top producers in the recording industry on this for eight hours. Tonight was just a suggestion to light a fire under your ass. I understand that you’re still recovering though and your health comes first. Take the time you need. If nothing comes of your session with A-Dub tonight, no harm, no foul. No point in rushing the creative process.”
He clapped his hands together. “Ok now, enough about that. Let’s talk Diamond. Let’s get you prepped to meet with the board.” He winked at her.
She sat staring at him in awe as her head spun. She had no idea how she would create a decent song in such a short amount of time, yet her body seemed to buzz with excitement at the challenge. She felt turned on with the idea of creating something that was hers.
Maybe he was right about his hermit crab story. Time would tell. She willed her wandering mind to focus back on what Lew was saying. She didn’t want to miss out on his words of wisdom about the CEO seat.
CHAPTER 11
Kit returned from her meeting with Lew feeling rejuvenated. She was pleased that she felt like herself again physically. Her energy was up, she had gotten in a brief, light workout approved by her doctor and she was feeling tremendous clarity. So much clarity that all of the unprocessed emotions about the miscarriage, the discovery of Sully’s girlfriend Kendalle living in his Malibu house for months and the breakup of her marriage coming at her full force, felt overwhelming.
She was beyond self-medicating. After seeing Sully’s downward spiral, she elected to cut back on alcohol, almost eliminating it entirely which was easy to do. She opened herself up to the emotion headfirst and realized that she hadn’t felt this much in decades. She didn’t resist. She welcomed it, knowing it was better to have this release now before she was due to see him than tomorrow while she was there in his presence.
Instead of rolling into a ball and crying all day, she welcomed her feelings in, cultivating them instead of alienating them, remembering what Lew had said in their meeting. With that invitation, the muse paid her a visit and creative inspiration rushed in like a flood. Suddenly her apprehension of whether or not she’d meet Lew’s deadline evaporated.
She seized a notepad from her dining room table and a pen. She worked at the piano in the front room until she got everything she needed there and sprinted out to the recording studio, locking herself in and letting the words and music continue to course through her.
She rolled with the momentum, composing, writing and arranging a song in the span of one hour. The legendary sound engineer and award winning platinum pop producer, Anton Alton, or “A-Dub” as he was referred to in the industry, arrived quickly as she was putting the finishing touches on her song.
A tall forty-something, long-haired blond guy, A-Dub looked like a cross between a rocker and a mad scientist, a bit disheveled, yet with kind hazel eyes and a wicked wit. Grateful he was there, she felt a little intimidated sharing her first personal song with an industry veteran that had produced icons, had more Grammys than anyone she knew and a boatload of multi-platinum records. Her vulnerability was running high.
He took a seat behind the boards and grinned at her. He chuckled. “Relax, Kit-Kat. After you left Lew’s he called me again and told me what’s up. Don’t put pressure on yourself. Let it flow. If it doesn’t flow, we can leave it alone. We’re just playin’.”
She took a seat in the chair next to him at the boards and sighed. “You can call me Kit. It’s just I’m used to being in your seat. This feels really weird for me.”
He nodded and grinned. “I can imagine.” His face then became serious. “Get over it.” Kit’s eyes widened as she felt immediate concern that this guy was going to end up being a slave driver.
He immediately noticed her concerned expression and burst out laughing. “Kit, relax. I was playing with you. C’mon, loosen up. I get that you’ve been in my shoes and you’ve got a nice track record to go along with that. Now it’s time to let me bring your voice, yours, out of you. Not you
