The receptionist pages Paol to the lobby. Adam leans against her desk and feels as nervous as he did the first time they came to the studio. What if it’s too late? wonders. What if Paol doesn’t want to sign us any more? Hell, what if he doesn’t want me any more? Not as a band on his label but just as…as something more?
He won’t think about that.
On the desk before him is a stack of business cards. Adam toys with the cards, fanning them out beneath his hand, sweeping them all together again. Each one has Paol’s name on them. Adam still has the card Paol gave him at the Lot—it’s stuck in his wallet behind his driver’s license. His mind drifts back to this morning, when he sat out in the parking lot with Mike waiting for Trace to arrive. His friend is right—what is Adam going to do withou
