AT 29

by D. P. Macbeth

  Les showed no interest in her food. “I’ve made this trip so often. This is the first time I don’t want to go back.”

  Jimmy kissed her cheek. “I’m going to miss you.”

  “When will we see each other again?”

  He expected her question, one they’d both avoided. The simple answer was he didn’t know. “I suppose it depends on the tour. We go on the road in a few weeks. Miles wants to capitalize on the Grammy notoriety.”

  “How long?”

  “To the end of the year.”

  Les looked away. “That’s eight months.”

  “Maybe you can come back while I’m touring. Like this time, for a week or two.”

  Les didn’t answer at first. She withdrew her hand from his, staring off at nothing. The pull of Saint Malachy’s Orphanage wasn’t so strong as before. Now that she had Jimmy in her heart, everything about her life in Australia was different. Empty wasn’t the word. She still had the boys and she knew the days would be filled with her increased responsibilities now that Sister Marie had her own struggles, but her personal life was forever changed. Jimmy occupied the once ignored space in her life that called out for a partner. Now, it demanded to be filled. She dreaded the months ahead, knowing that no matter how many duties occupied her time and attention, they would never be enough to placate the longing to be with her love.

  “It will be hard.”

  “To come back? Not if we plan. Easter, holiday breaks, we can work things out.”

  “And, later, when your tour is over?”

  “I’ll come to you and stay as long as possible.”

  Nothing was settled. She boarded her Qantas flight already lonely. During the two-hour layover at LAX she called Jimmy at his apartment in New York. They talked until the last call to board again. She ate nothing throughout the nearly twenty-four hours it took to get to her office on the other side of the earth, too depressed to eat. When she reached her desk, the phone was ringing with another call from Jimmy.

  ***

  Ellis arrived at McCabe’s office at four p.m. As usual, the executive was poring through a raft of papers on his desk. He looked up and smiled as Jimmy’s agent came through the door. After a brief rehash of the Grammy Awards telecast and Blossom’s stunning sweep, they got down to the purpose of the meeting.

  “I’m forming a production company,” McCabe said, moving the papers to the corner of his desk. “With Mike Winfield.” Ellis did not respond. Winfield was a new angle. He waited for more. “The national tour goes through the new company along with everything it entails; souvenirs, video tapes whatever else we can profit from.”

  “What’s that got to do with me?”

  Miles looked away for a second then leaned forward. “I don’t trust Winfield.”

  Ellis chuckled. “So, what else is new? I stopped trusting you when the money stopped.”

  “Now?”

  “I’m cool, as long as it doesn’t happen again.”

  “Good. It won’t. Winfield has all the contacts. I need him. After talking with his crowd last night, I’ve concluded that we can top ten million. Without him, the money is far less.”

  Ellis did the math. His agent’s share was more than he could imagine. “Where do I fit in?”

  “Winfield’s hands will be filled with Jimmy’s piece. He has the big guns lined up to throw money at his tour. He wants to travel with him. Remote broadcasts, publicity, interviews, a big show. I want you to handle everyone else.”

  “I’m Jimmy’s agent.”

  “That doesn’t change. We keep working together, but you run interference for everyone but Jimmy.”

  “Same format?”

  “I’m calling the production company Blossom Presents, like we did for the east coast tour. My lawyers are drawing up the papers. Yes, the same format, but bigger. Indoor arenas until the weather gets better, then outdoor stadiums, big parks, whatever can handle a large crowd. Three or four performances a week.”

  “Every week? That’ll be a grind, too many.”

  “For seven months, yes. After that, we’ll be big enough to scale things back. I’ll want to bring the national tour to an end with something overseas. Maybe get Jimmy back to Australia with Kate and Nigel. We do one or two end of tour extravaganzas over there, then bring them all back to work on their next albums. World tour after that.”

  “Does Jimmy know about this?”

  “Not yet. I’m not telling him anything until I know where you stand.”

  “Cindy?”

  “We talked this morning.”

  “It doesn’t seem like I have a choice.”

  “You do if you have a better idea.”

  “You’re right not to trust Winfield, but I can’t think of anyone else.”

  “Right now I trust three people; you, Cindy and Jimmy. Time will tell with Mike. If you agree to my proposal, I’ll be able to keep my eye on him.”

  “I’m in.” Trust meant much to Ellis.

  Fifty-Six

  The Grammy Awards ushered in the prominence Jimmy deserved. It also heralded the downfall of many, including me. I continue to regret the events of that year more than any others in my life. The idea to travel with Jimmy during his national tour came to me when I interviewed him after his return from Australia. How I rue acting upon it - all of my own doing, you see. There was no one else to blame.

  - Alice Limoges

  Two weeks later, Miles hosted the brain trust in his office. This time, Mike Winfield joined the small group. In a meeting that lasted all day, they mapped out the Blossom Presents National Tour. It comprised three circuits, united under the Blossom Presents logo. The Riland brothers had patched their feud, producing a well-developed album that was being readied for release. With that issue resolved, the pieces fell together. Jimmy was the headliner, going out on a northern route that would take him from Buffalo to Sacramento by June. The Riland Brothers Band would be his warm-up. Rebellion would take a southern route, beginning in Richmond, Virginia with MacGregor, the Canadian, opening their act. Nigel Whitehurst was paired with Weak Knees, routed through the heartland with smaller venues in cities like Columbus and Des Moines.

  Beginning in July, the groups would reverse their circuits, slowly making their way east from the west coast. In larger cites like LA, Dallas, Chicago, Atlanta and others, all six acts would come together for multiple outdoor concerts stretching over several dates. It was hoped that these would solidify the Blossom Presents strategy and pave the way for new talent, yet to be developed, that would go out under the same banner in the future.

  “Three performances a week are too many,” Ellis complained. “They’ll burnout.”

  “Only this once,” Winfield spoke up, looking at Miles. “Strike while the iron is hot.”

  “Easy for you to say. You don’t have to be ready every other day.” Ellis waited for Winfield to look at him.

  “Too late. The money’s been put up. Tomorrow we sign the contracts.”

  Miles wasn’t so sure. He realized that he didn’t know what kind of demands he was putting on his stable of artists. The night in, night out grind of the road was something foreign. He was depending upon the experts in the room, including Jimmy, to keep him honest. Regardless of Winfield’s promise of big money, he had no desire to kill the golden goose by wearing out his performers. Cindy didn’t like the idea, either. This gave him pause. She was his regulator.

  “Nothing’s cast in stone until the contracts are signed. I’m open to suggestions.”

  Winfield shook his head. “We already discussed this.”

  “I can do three a week,” Jimmy said.

  “That’s not the issue,” Ellis shot back. We all know you can do them. Can you do them well is the question. Will you have anything left in the tank after you’ve sung Peg so many times that you’re sleepwalking through the lyrics?”

  “I’m sure we won’t be doing three every week. There aren’t that many venues. Besides, there’s downtime between every stop.” T
ruthfully, Jimmy didn’t care. Being busy would take his mind off Les.

  Miles appealed to Winfield, “We can compromise, one week three, the next week two and so on.”

  “Sure, but…”

  Cindy cut the DJ off. “The wild card isn’t Jimmy. It’s everybody else. Kate is Rebellion’s big draw. We almost lost her at the Beacon. The Riland brothers hate each other. One flare-up, due to exhaustion, and we’ll be babysitting them all over again. Nigel Whitehurst has never done anything like this in his life. Eugene is always a worry. MacGregor is in the same boat as Nigel. I can go on and on. Every element of what we do has to be managed or the whole thing will go south fast.”

  Winfield lost his patience, showing his dark side with a raised voice. “Nothing’s going south! I’ll be with Jim and the two kids. Ellis handles Whitehurst. If you’re so worried about Kate and her nerves, why don’t you hold her hand? We’ve got a golden opportunity to go big time. Quibbling about a few extra shows is a waste of time. We’ll be leaving money on the table.”

  Jimmy let the argument play out, watching McCabe’s face as Ellis and Cindy tag teamed Winfield with raised voices of their own. He knew it was only a matter of time before Blossom’s boss would end the stalemate. His opinion of McCabe was long since solidified. He was an able manager who had the intangible quality of all successful leaders, good judgment. Whatever he decided would be good enough for Jimmy.

  They reached agreement by late afternoon. McCabe opted for a two and three schedule. Winfield continued to protest, but Miles stood firm. After more weak arguments, the DJ finally gave in, shaking his head in disgust as the meeting broke-up. The next day he met Miles in New York where contracts were signed with ten promoters. A million dollar payment was wired to Blossom’s account by ten the next morning. Then the hard work began.

  The artists went into the studios for days of rehearsal, defining and refining their acts. Ellis went on the road with Winfield to scout the venues for the first leg of each circuit. Cindy remained behind with Miles to supervise the promotional aspects including print ads, billboards and, most important, the staging that would be hauled by tractor-trailers from venue to venue. Flights and hotels were booked through June for all six acts. Employees were added including one special person McCabe had been thinking about for weeks.

  Felix Massengill joined him for dinner in Millburn. He was intrigued by the invitation, not so much because his old friend was so often visible on the television a few weeks earlier, but because he earnestly sought Felix out for this long overdue chance to talk. They’d always promised to get together, but in the years since they both left corporate life, it never happened. Their only contacts had been the funeral of McCabe’s wife and the phone calls when McCabe needed his help with Winfield. He wondered why he wanted to meet now.

  Dinner was a casual affair, consumed with old stories from the past and some new ones about the ins and outs of Miles’ new calling. They laughed frequently, telling jokes just like the times when they conversed together in the parking garage of the old corporate headquarters. After dinner, they moved to the bar. Miles ordered Jack Daniels while Felix, ever mindful of his law enforcement days, stuck with tonic water in anticipation of the forty-mile drive home. McCabe shifted the conversation to business when their drinks arrived.

  “You ever think about going back to work?”

  “Sometimes, when things get boring. Not much out there for an old guy like me.”

  “I was thinking private work, not security like before, investigative stuff.”

  “Private eye, like the television shows?” Felix laughed out loud. “No.”

  “It’s what you did for the FBI.”

  “Well, sure.”

  “Do you need a license for that sort of thing?”

  Felix raised his eyebrows. “Yes, private detectives are licensed.”

  “I have a lot going on at my company. I’m dealing with all sorts of new people.”

  “What’s on your mind, Miles?”

  “There’s a lot of money involved. I need someone to watch my back.”

  “You think you might be in danger?”

  “No, no. I’d just like to know more about the people I’m doing business with.”

  “Winfield again?”

  “Probably not. Your son did a good job putting him in a cage. In fact, we’re partners. We started a production company.”

  “Who?”

  McCabe reached into his suit jacket and brought out a one-page sheet of paper with a list of names. “Winfield brought these people to the table. They’re promoters who are backing a tour of my artists. I’d like to know more about them.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “I guess people call it a background check.”

  “Plenty of ways to get that done.”

  “I’d feel better if I knew the person who was doing it for me. There’s some other work, too. I’ll have people on the road for months all over the country. You’ve probably heard of Jim Buckman and the young woman, Kate, who received Grammy awards.”

  Felix nodded. “Watched the show.”

  “We’ll have security at all of their performances. I’m not necessarily worried about their safety, but I can’t plan for the unexpected. I need someone with a practiced eye to look in on things periodically. Someone like you, who can tell when something might not be right.”

  “What, exactly?”

  “This is rock ‘n’ roll. The trade magazines are full of stories. I’m not looking for trouble, but I’d like to know if it’s coming. It’s easier to fix before it gets too big to handle.”

  “How much time are we talking about?”

  “Whatever you can give me. There will be some travel to look in on the tours.”

  “I’ll look into getting a license.”

  ***

  Les was gratified by Sister Marie’s progress. After returning from the states, she followed the doctors’ recommendations and arranged for the nun’s transfer to a rehabilitation center. Her progress would be slow, but she had a chance to recover. Movement had returned to her left side. She could speak, albeit with difficulty. Much of what she once took for granted now required re-learning and patience. Sister Marie Bonaventuri was not patient. She wanted to get back to the orphanage and her boys.

  Her days were filled with rigor. Hours of walking between rails in the morning and again in the afternoon sapped her strength, but she threw herself into it with determination. In between, a speech therapist coaxed her to regain the voice she once relied upon to control all that went on around her. At night, she returned to her bed, exhausted. That’s when Les would arrive to share dinner with her in her room. They reviewed the day’s progress like mother and daughter, but also like boss and employee because Sister Marie demanded to know all that went on at Saint Malachy’s. Les detailed everything for her mentor. Most of that detail consisted of finances, which remained sound because this year’s gala brought in almost double the amounts received in previous years. Due to Jim Buckman’s surprise appearance, Sister Marie thought, but due to the able leadership of her protégé, as well. She could rest easy. Saint Malachy’s was in good hands.

  ***

  Alice Limoges arrived in Buffalo a day ahead of the kickoff of Jimmy’s national tour. The huge staging was already in place and sound checks were being conducted when she slipped into the arena where five thousand fans would be screaming twenty four hours later. Mike Winfield was due to meet her in an hour. They knew each other well. They’d slept together a few times, even shared some coke. Winfield would welcome her back with the specter of doing it all again.

  “Dispatches from the road. I like that,” Winfield said, enthusiastically. “McCabe will like it, too.”

  “I need unrestricted access to everyone.”

  “Like what?”

  “I go with them wherever they go. Planes, trains, buses, I’m part of it all.”

  “Great, you can stay with me.” He winked, lasciviously.


  “Be serious. I want to give my readers the inside view of everything.”

  “So, you want me to convince McCabe to let you do it.”

  “To get close enough.”

  “I’ll try.”

  It was a no-brainer for Miles. Her piece on the Chapel Hill Concert was all he needed to want more.

  “She wants to tour with you,” he told Jimmy on the phone. “She’ll do a piece on every concert. The free publicity will be worth a fortune.”

  “She can be a bit wild.”

  “I’ve heard that. Do you think it’s a mistake?”

  “Not for me. I’ve known Alice since we were kids. I won’t be affected by what she might do.”

  “So we’ll take her on.”

  “Keep an eye on her with Winfield.”

  “Will do.”

  When the three tours kicked off, Back and Blue had sold one and a quarter million copies. It was number four on the pop charts and holding steady. Peg had been in the top ten on the singles charts for ten weeks. It hit number one a week before the Grammy broadcast, remaining in that position for twenty days before being unseated by Rebellion’s signature song. Peg was now number three and still generating plenty of gravy for all concerned. The four previous Jimmy Button Band albums, re-released following Back and Blue’s success, sold more copies than the originals. His six-year-old debut album was nearing gold. Rebellion’s debut album went gold within a week of Kate’s Grammy win, sales stood at eight hundred thousand. Miles expected it to go platinum soon. Weak Knees debut album was not doing as well in the States, but in Europe sales were strong. Ellis still considered this group to be a sleeper.

  “The tour will be the best thing for them. All they need is some exposure like the Grammy Awards broadcast did for Rebellion. Sales will take off over here soon enough.”

  Miles believed him. MacGregor’s debut album barely made a blip, but Miles wasn’t worried. MacGregor and the Riland Brothers would test the Blossom Presents strategy. If they rode the coattails of his proven stars, he remained optimistic that they’d be stars on their own soon.