Harmony walked into Franklin’s office and sat in the chair across from his desk. He kept writing on the yellow legal pad in front of him. She looked around the room. While she had decorated in lavenders and silver, with very feminine touches, Franklin’s office looked almost spartan. The black furniture had clean lines. Cream-colored pillows on the black leather couch matched the carpet perfectly. Simple black and white photos of musical instruments hung on the walls. Only the books in the bookcase provided any color to the room. Franklin had once told her the lack of color helped him concentrate better.
Finally, she spoke. “Are you still my manager?”
His pen paused, and he finally stopped writing, slowly screwed the cap back onto the pen, and looked at her. “I don’t know if I’ve really b
