Page 47 of Dark Verse

Knox scratches at his beard, saying, “And I see how much of yourself you are putting towards making this place a success. I know I haven’t made your job any easier with my…”

“Perpetual tardiness,” I finish for him.

He huffs out a small breath but nods in agreement, “Yeah. So I want to make it up to you.”

“You’re here before anyone else,” I point out. “Seems like you’ve already started.”

“And I plan on continuing that. But I also want to thank you in another way for giving me a chance to get my shit together.”

“Okay?”

“There’s this interactive art installation here in town that I thought you might be interested in seeing. Cash actually told me about it. It’s in this big building right off the highway.”

“FullSpectrum?” I ask, a memory sparking.

“The very one, you been before?”

“No, but I’ve heard of it, and I think I’ve seen a few ads or tickets for sale online.”

“Yeah, Cash said it feels like stepping into someone else’s hallucination where the fever dream is having a fever dream. Weird rooms, secret doors, lights, sound, and music everywhere.”

“Sounds chaotic.”

“But fun, chaotic, he swears. He made it sound like a must-see. I was hoping you’d want to check it out. With me,” he adds, like that wasn’t implied.

“Knox…” I begin, my list of excuses already prepared.

“And before you say no…” he interjects, cutting off my train of thought.

We stand there in silence as I wait for him to go on, but he doesn’t.

I ask, “Yes?”

Shrugging, he says, “That’s it. I just wanted that pause before you crushed all my hopes and dreams.”

“Knox,” I chuckle lightly, “It’s just that…we work together. I have to stay focused on keeping this venue moving in the right direction.”

By all my metrics, Saturday’s show was a success. We are still far away from turning a profit, but my anxiety ticked down as I noticed our line wrapped around the building. Now I just need four solid weeks of nights like that every day of the week. You know…something totally easy to accomplish.

“And you still can,” Knox says. “I have it all planned out.”

“Okay?” I say, intrigued.

“I already checked the schedule. The Nightshades aren’t playing Wednesday, and I saw that you put Danica and Hendrix on as the house manager for the night. Seems like the perfect chance for them to prove their managerial abilities and for you to take that much-needed night off.”

I open my mouth to argue but find that particular line of logic solid on his part. I want Hen and Danica to take the reins of this place as soon as possible. They’ve both shown their value as we worked to relaunch this venue. Now they both need to show they can handle live shows.

“What I said the first night we met is still true.” Reaching out, he takes my hand in his, the action slow and deliberate. “I want to get to know you, Ven.”

His expression is so earnest that I’m struggling to voice any kind of firm rebuttal. So instead of giving in to his suggestion, I completely change the topic.

“Why do you call me that?”

“Call you what?”

“Ven. No one’s ever called me that.”

“Really, cause that strikes me as low-hanging fruit?”