“I stutter. There’s no way I heard him right. “I’ve never played for an audience bigger than a wedding.” I gesture toward Latson. “You want him, not me.” “He won’t come.” Dean crosses his arms. “I asked him months ago, when I first started working this gig. I asked him again the night we played on stage. His answer was still no.” “Why?” I look at Latson. He looks apprehensive, possibly torn. “You should go.” I nudge him with my elbow. “You love to play.” He shakes his head no. “I have Oliver. He... doesn’t need to live on the road.” “It’s only five months, right?” “You don’t …” He sighs. “I’m not traveling with a seven-year-old, and I won’t leave him behind. He deserves better.” Latson’s arm leaves my waist and he heads behind his desk. Did I upset him? I didn’t mean to. “Jen.” Dean redirects my attention. “What do you think? How does touring sound?” “I don’t …” Again with the stuttering. I don’t understand why he would want me.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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