Page 34 of Dark Verse

“Later, then,” Knox says.

I smile, satisfied. “Good. Your new call time will be eleven moving forward.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

RAVEN

LEANING BACK in my chair, the old dry wood creaks under me as I close my laptop. All three screens shut down at once, leaving me in a darker space, literally and figuratively. The creaking sound is a reminder that the rolling chair is just another thing in need of replacement, a relic of this place’s past that is slowly falling apart. Old sound systems, old chairs, old roofing. Outdated fire suppression systems and lapsed licenses. The longer I sit here, the deeper my annoyance becomes.

My fingers start to itch, wanting to move, my body wanting this frustrated energy to get out. My digits move like they are running over the keys of a piano, and my mind starts to drag me towards the stage where an old 1978 Venlard upright is sitting.

The piano tuner was in earlier today and it finally sounded like it’s supposed to by the time she was finished. I played it a few days ago in the early morning when no one else was in which is what prompted me to call her in the first place. I’m betting it sounds lovely and it’s calling to me to be played.

“Goddammit,” I say, pushing my glasses up to my forehead and rubbing my eyes hard.

“What’s wrong?” I hear Hen’s voice moving around in the main space.

Shit, I didn’t even realize he was here. I thought I was alone this late in the day.

“Hendrix?” I ask loudly to confirm.

“Yeah.” A moment later, he pops up in my door frame. “I forgot my backpack for tonight. I was just swinging by to pick it up before I head out to hang with some friends.”

Glad I was stewing in this chair instead of at the piano.

I haven’t played for an audience in years and tonight was not the night I wanted to test my stage fright.

“No worries, I just thought I was alone. Yeah, come on in, take a seat.”

He slips into the room and gets comfortable. He’s changed from when I saw him earlier this afternoon. He looks ready to spend time at a park or a lake, wearing shorts, sunglasses, and a summer-themed shirt.

“What’s up?” he asks.

Pausing, I take a quiet moment to reorder my thoughts.

“I just got out of a meeting with the CEO and board members.”

“Did things not go well?”

“Mmm…well is up for debate at the moment. When I originally took this assignment, I thought I might be here for ten weeks. Twelve max. I expected to spend a week or two doing updates, and then the doors would open.”

“And then you got here and actually saw the state of things,” he offers.

I chuckle, although the sound is a little sad.

“Yeah. The sound system issue alone has put us back a full three weeks. Three weeks, we should have been digging ourselves out of the financial hole we are currently in.”

“I follow,” he nods along.

“Well, during that conference call with the voting members of Headliner Acquisitions board, I basically explained the situation and let them know about some of the major issues I’ve encountered. I explained to them that with all the realities of this venue, the original ten to twelve weeks are insufficient. I mean, we haven’t even hosted one crowd yet.”

All I have right now is money going out the door: money to keep two bands on contract, money for the updates and inspections, money to keep Hendrix and Danica on staff. And not a dime coming back.

“And they were uninterested?” Hendrix guesses.

Pretty damn close to the truth.

“Some of them expressed understanding, but not exactly sympathy. I got one of those all part of the job speeches. Even when I asked directly for a reevaluation of the timeline, the board declined to change that deadline.”