Page 74 of Christmas Trees & Weak Knees

Oh.

In my experience, most stories that start off that way are not funny at all.

I slowly breathe in through my nose and release through my mouth. “So, is this the less-good news you’re about to tell me?”

Kash sits back and rubs his palms over his thighs. “Barry absolutely loved ‘Worth the Wait.’ Thought we hit it out of the park. And the label loved it.” Kash shrugs. “And apparently, Live, from Nashville! loved it, too.”

“Oh my god!” I jump out of my seat, nearly knocking it over, and wrap my arms around Kash, smooshing his face into my midriff. “I knew they would! As if there was any doubt. You’re the headliner, right? Oh, this is great for you. For your career. Probably mine, too, when other music publishers find out I co-wrote it with you…”

Kash wraps his arms around me but doesn’t hold me as close as he usually does. It feels more like he’s treating me like a delicate piece of crystal that’s in danger of breaking.

“Thing is, I accidentally sent the wrong file,” he says, his words muffled.

“Say what now?” I ease back so I can see his face. His brow is creased with worry. “Did you just say you sent the wrong file?”

Kash looks up at me and swallows like it’s painful. I hope he’s not coming down with something. “Yeah.”

“I mean, who hasn’t done something like that? I once sent my English term paper to my science teacher. Accidents happen.”

“I sent Barry the practice file.”

“So, it wasn’t the one with the mixed tracks?”

Kash’s eyes narrow like he’s in physical pain. Gosh, I hope it’s not the flu or COVID. “Oh, it was mixed all right. It was just…it was the duet version.”

I get this sinking black hole of a feeling in the pit of my stomach that radiates outward toward my extremities. The ringing in my ears is so loud, I couldn’t possibly have heard him correctly, because I thought he said…“Duet?”

Kash nods. “Yeah.”

My feet are on the floor, but it feels like I’m trying to balance on stilts. My legs go wobbly and I drop back into my chair.

I absolutely hate the way I sounded in that recording, my voice so flat and whiny. I’m not a singer. I don’t want to be a singer. And I sure as hell don’t want anyone outside of my trusted circle of family and friends to hear me sing (and not even them sometimes).

Don’t panic.

I suck in a deep breath. “That’s definitely not great,” I say. “I can see why you referred to it as ‘less-good’ news.”

“Definitely not up there with the really good stuff,” he says.

“Obviously you told Barry it was a mistake,” I say. “That it’s not supposed to be a duet. You’re going to send Barry the correct file and get it all sorted out, right?”

Kash winces. “Um, well, I tried, but…thing is, they want us to perform it live at the New Year’s Eve Ball.”

I let out a surprised laugh, because yeah, right.

But Kash isn’t laughing. In fact, he looks pretty darn serious.

Whoosh. The air in my lungs rushes out of me.

“You told Barry no, right?” I wait for him to answer, and it’s like someone took a giant vacuum and sucked all the oxygen out of the barn, because I can barely breathe. “Kash. You told them no, right?”

He scratches the back of his head and looks a little lost, like he’s not quite sure how to process everything. “Barry didn’t give me the chance. He just said they loved it as a duet and that I should stop by the office with you on Monday to work out the details.”

“Call him back,” I say. The sooner we get this straightened out, the better.

Kash frowns. “He was about to get on a plane. And what am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, Barry, thanks for the offer of a lifetime, but we’re going to pass’?”

I groan. “I can’t believe this.”