The next night Sara showed up without Guillermo and took Pauly to a smaller club, but the band (and the crowd) there was not what he was looking for. They spent the next few nights going to other clubs. Still nothing.
About a week later they returned to the Club Sin Mirar. As they sat there waiting for a new band to take the stage, a gray-haired man approached their table.
“Señor,” he began, leaning over the chair across from Pauly, “I am the manager of this establishment…”
“Is something wrong?” Pauly immediately asked.
“Oh, no, señor,” the manager said, sitting down in the chair and holding out his hand for Pauly to shake. “I am Jorge Cruz. I have been told that you are a talent scout from the United States. You have come here to look for singers?”
Pauly sat back, more relaxed.
“I t
