Page 158 of Down Beat

FIFTY-SIX

Tabitha

“Never Never” - Korn

Steady income. Steady income, and no more debt collection calls. I repeat the reasons for doing this over and over as I wait on the cab to take me home from the audition. It went well, but I won’t know the outcome until they’ve seen the other applicants tomorrow.

I’ve never wished so hard for a rejection.

My phone rings in my coat pocket, forcing me to juggle my violin case between my hands in a hurry to catch it before it stops. The agent’s name flashes up on the screen, no doubt calling to see how I did.

“Hi.”

“Evening, Tabitha.” The guy is old school, super formal. But he knows his stuff. “You’ve finished your audition then?”

“I have.” Don’t ask me how it went.

“And how did it go for you?”

Damn it. “I think it went well. I find out tomorrow.”

“Brilliant.” I can tell by his tone of voice he’s already disinterested in what else I have to say.

In a way, it’s a relief. I don’t want to get into the semantics of why I’m not feeling it.

“I didn’t actually call about that, though.”

He didn’t?

“How’s your evening? Is it free?”

“At this stage.” As if I’d have anything to do, anyway. “Why?”

“I had a request for you to play at a private residence. Now, there are no concerns for your welfare; the parties have to fill out quite the comprehensive booking form, so we’ll know where you are and what time you’re supposed to leave. If you accept, then all I ask is that you phone me when you’re done so I know you returned home safely.”

“Is this normal?” I knew he put me up on their website as listed talent, but I seriously didn’t realize people still do this.

“Quite normal. One of my other gentlemen plays at least three times a month for private functions. If you’re comfortable doing such events, you can earn a nice bonus through them.”

Wow. “I guess I’m thrown by the short notice, but that’s fine.” A girl has to eat. “What are the dress requirements? Cocktail?”

My imagination sets to work conjuring up a montage of swanky places I might be booked for.

“Casual. I’d say dress slacks and a nice blouse, but you don’t need to be formal.”

A nice blouse. I giggle on the inside—I don’t own a blouse. “I’m happy to do it. Do they have preferences for what I play? How does this work?”

“I’ll email you the particulars. You’re required there in a little under two hours, so I apologize for the rush. They literally booked you this minute.”

“Thanks, Don. The opportunity is much appreciated.”

“I’m sure you’ll blow them away, dear.”

He disconnects, leaving me reeling as my cab arrives. I need to hustle if I’m going to make it in time.

My Uber Black pulls up with barely three minutes to spare. I opted to pay a little extra for the benefit of having an unmarked car drop me off. If the address had been for some stately house, or upper-class townhouse, it would have looked tacky as all hell rocking up in a Yellow Cab.

Yet as my driver double-checks the number on his GPS, I realize why I’d been asked to dress casual. The hotel gives me flashbacks to the first night with Rey. All glass and brass, and far too much class for a girl like me.