“You need me,” he blustered.
“No, Simon, I do not.” She held his gaze until he backed down. “And in case you’ve forgotten, my friend Sandy is stopping by the sound check this afternoon, and I don’t want any theatrics from you while she’s there.”
He mumbled something unintelligible.
“What’s that?”
He stared out the window for a few moments. “I was going to tell you later, but since you’re in such a pissy mood, I’d better fill you in.”
She opened her mouth to object to his comment, but he’d piqued her curiosity. “Tell me what?”
“Well.” His shoulders went back and he gave her a triumphant look. “You’re finally going to get to meet the songwriter.”
Was this one of Simon’s distractions, or the truth? If what he said was true, it was something she’d wanted for several years now, ever since that first song that had skyrocketed her to stardom.
Back then, when she and Simon still liked each other, she’d tried to explain how Close Enough To Care had affected her. That, and every song which followed spoke to something deep inside her. It was as if the songwriter had written those first songs specifically for her, that he understood what moved her in a way no other songwriter could hope to equal.
When she’d asked to meet the elusive songwriter, Simon had acted strange, informing her that he desired to remain anonymous.
“But that’s ridiculous,” she’d argued. “What if one of his songs gets nominated for a Grammy?”
He frowned, and from what she could tell, he was genuinely puzzled. “He’s let it be known that he doesn’t want to be nominated.”
“You’re making this up, right?” She gave a nervous laugh. “Nobody would do that.”
“I agree, and I can’t explain it.” He spread his hands in defeat. “But that’s the way it is.”
No wonder Simon was uncomfortable discussing the songwriter. He’d finally come up against someone he couldn’t manipulate.
As Mandy’s star grew brighter, she became less comfortable with the situation. Finally, at the beginning of the year, she’d managed to get a few minutes alone with her producer in his studio. Simon might be a jerk in his personal life, but he’d surrounded her with the best professionals in the business.
The legendary producer shook his head. “I swear, Mandy. I don’t know who he is.” His fingers drifted over the soundboard as he spoke. “His agent acts as go-between, and as you know, we rarely if ever need to ask for re-writes.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand it, either.”
“But how can he keep his name a secret? I mean, what about getting paid?”
“That’s easily enough arranged. He uses his company name.” He tapped a score. “You must have noticed his company name. SwingTime Sound.”
Mandy made a sound of disgust. “Sounds like a name from the forties. Glenn Miller or something.” She gave the producer a look of mock horror. “What if he’s some old geezer? Maybe I don’t want to meet him after all.”
“Hey, don’t knock Glenn Miller. He was one of the best.”
Mandy’s gaze lingered on the music. “I know, I’m just frustrated.”
The producer raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t be complaining if I were you. This guy is probably the best songwriter I’ve come across in the past twenty years. And if I’m not mistaken, he writes exclusively for you.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“I agree, but he must be content. Besides, with your sales, he’s doing just fine.”
“I suppose so...” Her voice drifted off.
A group of musicians arrived and pushed through into the studio. Mandy knew her time was up. “Thanks, Benny,” she’d said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll let you know if we have any luck tracking him down.”
Chapter Three
She turned disbelieving eyes on Simon. “You’re serious? I’m actually going to meet him? How did you finally get ahold of him?”
Simon held up his hands. “Whoa, there. I didn’t actually talk to him. I talked to his agent, but he assured me that he’d meet with you this weekend.”
Mandy slid back on the leather seat and tried to calm the butterflies that had taken up residence in her stomach. Now that she was finally going to meet him, she was nervous. What if she didn’t like him, or worse yet, what if he didn’t like her? She supposed there was only one way to find out.
As they drew closer to the Sage Bowl, the irony struck her. That she would finally meet him here. Here, where her career started.
Her friends had urged her to enter the amateur night of the music festival. Terrified and elated at the same time, she’d sung her heart out with a medley of Patsy Cline songs. Simon Preston, an aggressive up-and-coming manager, had spotted her and the rest, as they say, was history.
The limo crested a hill and she caught sight of the venue. It took her breath away every time she saw the transformation that took place in the valley below. High sandy cliffs provided the perfect backdrop for the gently sloping ‘bowl’ of the valley floor. The stage was large, but it was dominated by the cliffs. Over the years, the festival organizers had experimented with various lighting schemes to illuminate the cliffs, and it hadn’t taken long for the performers to realize that nature’s backdrop couldn’t be improved upon. As an informal site, where people brought their own seating, it was unparalleled.
As they approached the gate, Mandy rolled down her window.
“What are you doing?” Simon had reverted to his old self.
“I want to talk to the guard.” She smiled at the young man. “Hi!”
He bent to look inside the limo and his eyes widened. “Oh, hello Miss Malone. What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to be sure you have my friend’s name on your list. Sonja Larsen, but she’ll probably identify herself as Sunny.”