Sincerely, Michelle White It was one of those cold rainy days when all you really want to do, if you can help it, is stay inside and browse the Internet. Well, maybe read a book, have some coffee, it depends on your state of mind. Maybe some people would like to be outdoors in a stiff wind and rain, but Michelle was not one with such fortitude. She liked staying inside, especially when it rained. Perhaps her favorite task on such a day was to sit at her desk, typing away on her computer (working on some important document, or sending e-mail to friends in the business. She couldn�t rule out web browsing, especially when she was searching for information on one of her number one subjects: motorcycle racing. The thing that really made this enjoyable was listening to the sheeting rain drumming relentlessly on her large pane glass window. She loved it. She loved sitting there with her coffee, her computer, and her warm house while outside the world was inhospitable. She knew it was inhospitable, especially when she turned on the radio and heard the reporters complaining about the snarled traffic. Michelle knew she was right about staying inside. There was only one problem with this idea. The problem was that today was not a day when she could stay inside her home undisturbed. No, instead of staying indoors, she had to get into her car and drive down to the office where she met all her clients. She had a client to meet today, and she did not think he would cancel just because of a little rain. She knew he wouldn�t cancel. Resolutely, she went into her closet, picked out a blue raincoat, and shut the door. She took one last look through her room, making sure there was nothing out of place. The pillows were all on the bed, the stuffed animals snug on their shelves, her computer was shut down properly, her telephone cord coiled neatly into a little circle. She went down stairs where she found her husband looking through a magazine. She checked the rest of the house making sure there were no dishes in the sink, to be sure there were no magazines on the coffee table, no stray cups lingering here or there. When she was satisfied she walked to her closet where she stored her keys, got them, and came back to the man sitting in the chair. She tapped his fingers. �I�m leaving.� �Are you?� �You knew that. I have an appointment with Rick Miller today, even in this nasty weather.� A flash of lightening briefly lit up the room, causing them both to stay still for a moment. �He wouldn�t cancel,� she said, as the man uncurled himself from the chair, came to her, embraced her, kissed her. �I love you,� he said, more of a statement of purpose than anything else. �I know. I really don�t want to do this.� �You can.� �I�ll be thinking of you waiting for me. I need that.� �You�ll be back.� Michelle was glad he had so much confidence in her. She was amazed at how much she needed this man�s calm confidence, especially since the appointment, though professional, would be, for her, anyway, a bit disturbing. She looked back over her shoulder, caught his eyes, held them for a very long moment, then made her way into the inhospitable weather. The traffic wasn�t so bad. Luckily everyone had decided to stay off the streets in her part of town. She was probably the only one crazy enough to be out in this rain. No, she had to reassess that thought pattern. He was crazy enough to be out there. If it wasn�t for the big record producer she wouldn�t have to be out today. She could be browsing the Internet. She parked the car in her space and entered the office building. It was one of those urban places, fake plants, fancy chairs, marble floors, kind of ritsy. As she entered the hallway and pressed the button for the elevator, she wondered why the place was so quiet. No, she knew why the place was so quiet. Elizabeth, her receptionist was there, and maybe a few others. Most people had decided not to brave their commute into the city, and Michelle didn�t think she blamed them. Elizabeth looked up as she entered her suite of offices. �Hello, Beth. Anything exciting here today?� �Rain.� �That�s exciting?� Michelle chuckled despite herself. Leave it to Beth. She could always think of something funny to say even about rain. �So has anyone called, I mean. Anyone frantically looking for a recording contract?� �No, Miss White. No one.� Elizabeth was clearly interested in her computer screen. Michelle looked over at the screen. �Checking e-mail are you? Looking for a message from someone?� �My honey.� �I thought so.� Elizabeth picked up a small stack of printed papers. �These letters are ready for your signature. If you can sign them while you�re in today, I can get them in the mail tomorrow morning.� Michelle briefly scanned them: letters to prospective clients, people looking for a break in the music world. �No problem. I can do that.� She looked at an open schedule book on Beth�s desk. �Mr. Miller is coming in still I hope.� �Yes. He called this morning. You didn�t get his e-mail confirming your appointment?� �Ah, that�s your department, Beth. If I got it, I ignored it. He is prompt, so I didn�t think he had canceled. Just hoping, I guess.� �What? He�s coming to let you sign the biggest contract we�ve ever gotten.� �Well, he didn�t have to do it on a day like this!� Elizabeth turned back to her computer screen. Michelle walked through the hall, went up to the tenth floor and opened her office. Her office had a nice pane glass window that afforded a dreary view of the concrete parking lot, shrouded in a blanket of fog. Of course, the view wasn�t spectacular, not when it was mixed with all the exhaust coming from cars traveling below. She smiled a little. It wasn�t really so bad, the drippy drizzly stuff hanging about. She actually liked this weather. Her only problem was she really didn�t� like to travel in it. She deposited her brief case on the floor and went straight for the coffee pot. She pulled out a pre-filled filter of vanilla coffee, added water, and turned on the pot. She knew when she had a great cup of coffee in her hand she would feel much better. She settled down in front of her computer, checked her e-mail, started working on another document. There was always so much to do. The smell of coffee gently made its way to her nose. She breathed deeply and felt her spirits improve immensely. Michelle White was thirty years old. She had done well for herself. She had a great recording business. She ruled over the world of want-to-be singers, Techy recording engineers, temperamental artists, flaky musicians, and she loved it. She was known for putting her foot down occasionally, announcing that she would not work with this man or that woman. She was known for her fair treatment of clients, but she was also known for speaking her mind. Perhaps this is why she owned Right Recording Opportunities. She smiled a little as the telephone on her desk purred. �yes, Beth?� �he�s here.� �Send him to the submenu zone.� �Now you sound like a computer screen. He�s on his way.� Michelle got up from her desk, poured herself a cup of coffee, and sat down again. It was beginning to be a little warm so she took off her jacket, showing her blue and white pant suit. It fitted her nicely, the colors not too loud, not too bright. She was ready. �hello Miss White.� They shook hands politely. �Hello Mr. Miller. Come on in. I see the rain did not stop you.� He chuckled a little. He was a little wet, but he seemed in good enough spirits as he took off his coat, put down his brief case, found a chair. �Coffee?� �It�s not chocolate, no thank you.� �You always were one for chocolate.� �You haven�t forgotten?� �How could I forget that?� �Time, dear.� �Time only heightens some memories.� There was a bit of silence as she turned her chair to face her guest, stranding her computer screen. �So let�s see the papers.� The man brought his brief case to an empty place on the large desk. �May I?� �Of course.� He pulled them out, neatly bound in a sheath, and laid them before her. �I know you�re ready to sign this band, Glimpses. Only the best jazz band since Glenn Miller.� �You insult Glenn Miller. He didn�t have a jazz band, dear. It was a big band. It was a swing band� �Okay so I know good music when I hear it. Just because you�re the one with the college degree.� �Shut up.� She was smiling. �I heard their demo. I�ve read the sketches, I�ve read everything. We�ll sign them.� She pulled at her coffee, and glanced over to a bookshelf that was sitting on her wall. �By the way, nice drummer.� �Just some guy I drug in off the street.� �Sure.� She briefly glanced over the papers, took her pen, signed them. �When do we start?� �Next week. Bring your guys in here, we�ll set them up with Eric, our recording engineer. They�re ready for the long hard road ahead of them?� �Michelle, I don�t know that anyone�s ready for that.� �I was ready.� �You are different,� said the guest, taking in the bookshelves, the beige carpet, the spare surroundings in a single, appraising glance. �You mean I�m not a flake.� �No. You may be a lot of things; a hard bargainer, a little testy, but not a flake.� �So are you passing judgment on my character?� she wanted to know. �The time for that is over.� �Yes, Rick,� she said, dropping her guard for a moment, �it was a long time ago when we met. We�ve gone our ways, but I�m working with you now. We are colleagues. You damn well better behave.� �Me?� The man, lean, compact, short, gave her a look of innocence, one that made her laugh, despite herself. �yes, you.� She drew out some documents from her brief case. �Here�s the contract, here are the starting dates, here are the tour locations, the deadlines, everything.� He looked through them, tucked them away in his brief case. He sat down, looking at the coffee pot. �You want some?� �Maybe.� Michelle got up, poured out a cup. �Sugar and cream. I remember.� She brought the cup to him. �So, how are you?� she asked a little less harshly. �What kind of professional question is that?� �Hey, stop that teasing! I want to know how you�ve been. You know I�m professional when it matters.� �I�m busy. And I�m actually doing well. I�m married now. But you probably knew that.� �yes. I knew that.� All of a sudden, Michelle stopped. She realized it wasn�t so hard after all. She had come in here wondering how she would react to seeing an old flame, and now she knew. Her darling was home, waiting. She looked at Rick Miller again, and decided that the tenseness she had imagined would exist between them was only in her mind. Ten years ago, their meeting had been brief, electric, disastrous. But now, both of them secure in their niches, they could compete on equal footing. �You?� �I was married. Ellen was a good girl. She died last year.� �Oh.� Michelle looked at some papers before her not related to the band, took a sip of her coffee. �I�m sorry to hear that. But, you, Mr. Miller, didn�t have to come out on such a day as this!� The man put his hands over his face, trying to hide a smile. �You could have called me an canceled.� �Why?� �Because you hate the rain.� �yes, I do hate the rain. But I�m not a flake. We�ve already discussed that.� �That was never an issue.� Rick Miller picked up his coffee, tasted it and smiled. �Okay, this will do. I�ll bring them in Monday.� �Tell that drummer to come, too.� �You always had a thing about drummers.� �I sure did. I still do.� She glanced over at one of the shelves. �there�s my collection of work.� �Your work is good.� �Yes, I think we established that fact years ago.� Michelle quickly finished her coffee. Her guest did likewise. She cleared her desk, washed the pot. Rick Miller, the manager of Glimpses rose. She saw him to the door. �Goodbye, Mr. Miller.� Her smile was gone, the desire to leave evident. �Goodbye, Miss White.� She got her keys, her brief case. �I�m going home to browse the Internet.� Michelle White, happily married, happy that Rick Miller was the manager of Glimpses, went downstairs, dismissed Elizabeth and got into her car. She drove through the poring rain, cautious, happy to be in her drive way again. She took out her key, fitted it into the door, let herself in. Her husband was waiting. �You made it. I knew you would.� �Yes. It wasn�t as hard as I thought. It was, well, a piece of cake!� They smiled. �Well, we were pleasant enough, and now Glimpses is signed, and we can be colleagues now.� She went upstairs again, leaving him to the magazine. She got on the Internet. She sent Rick email. To: rmiler From: [email protected]. Dear Mr. Miller: Is it safe to assume that you have heard all the work I�ve done since 19:::. Yes, I suppose it is. I�ve recorded my own music, since no one else would have me. I bet they�re all wishing they had let me record in their studios now. But, oh, well, here we go. It will be a pleasure to record Glimpses. I am very much looking forward to it. Sincerely, Michelle White
Copyright © 2000 Shelley J Alongi |