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“Yeah, we went out and got a burger. You know he has her on some bullshit pre-tour diet?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

I’m quiet for a second, standing in the security line tapping my foot. “I’m not gonna stand by this time. If I have to fuck him up, I will.”

“And you can do that without being hauled in front of a judge this time?”

“I can,” I say firmly.

There’s a long, long silence.

“Hey, Jamie,” she says.

“Yeah?”

“You know Coen really wasn’t your fault. And he’s okay, it all worked out.”

I want to believe that.

“Can I talk to you about something?” I ask. “I’ll have to call you once I get through security.”

“Of course, call me in a minute.”

I hang up right as it’s my turn. Luckily, the airport is pretty dead, and I sail through without a problem. On the other end, I grab myself a hot plain coffee and find an empty corner of the airport at my gate. All I have is my carry-on. I set it on the ground and stack my feet on it. Goddamn, my hamstrings are tight. Must be all that thrusting.

I pop my earbuds in and call Marion back, this time on a video call. She waits while I prop up the phone on my boots so I can drink my coffee.

“Alright, what’s eating you?”

“You know that girl I’ve been with?” I say, avoiding her eyes.

She’s also in the airport, sitting cross-legged on the floor in an oversized gray ITA hoodie. Her gray hair is tied at her nape, but she’s still got her signature bright pink lipstick on. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her without it.

“Yeah, I do,” she says.

“It’s Coen’s future sister-in-law.”

She snorts into her coffee, coughing. “Jesus, are you serious?”

“Yeah, dead serious.”

She runs a hand over her face. “Does Coen know?”

I nod. “I told him pretty quick. Last summer when I went down to Wyoming, we kinda ran into each other. There were some sparks, and we hooked up. Then, she was visiting her mom in New York, and that’s when I just…couldn’t take it anymore and texted her.”

Marion stares at the wall above her, forehead furrowed. “And she’s the one you think has some talent.”

“I know she does.”

“But she hasn’t done anything? Not even tried to rustle up some following online?”

“She has, she’s doing really well,” I say. “Not instant deal numbers, but I’ve seen steady growth.”

The corners of her mouth curve. I wait, but she doesn’t speak.

“What?” I ask.

“Jamie,” she says, voice dropping. “We’re not signing her.”