Megan
Woods looked at her desk. It was piled high with trade magazines, photographs,
press releases, contracts and messages. She went through administrative
assistants like shit through a goose. Each new employee vowed to get Megan
organized then would quit in frustration long before the mission was ever
accomplished.
Megan
had two speeds: fast and faster. She talked fast, worked fast and lived life in
the fast lane. She was a publicist and Los Angeles was her town. She worked
hard and in a town where it's who you know, she made it her business to know
the players.
Even
though there was fifteen years separating them in age, she was also Jeanie
Kirkpatrick's best friend. At forty, Megan was still a beauty. She was
5'9" with blazing red hair cut into a bob and she worked out religiously.
She was the type of woman who had a presence...she was powerful. She also
preferred the company of women to men, but an occasional gentleman was nice. It
kept people guessing.
Jeanie
was well aware of Megan's sexual preferences. She would giggle and say
"Don't you go kissing on me, Meg!" Megan represented Jeanie
professionally and she would never cross that line with a client. That didn't
stop them from flirting shamelessly. Megan knew better than to act on her
desires, but sometimes it was hard.
"Carol,"
she buzzed her secretary. "Get Tex for me." Much to Jeanie's dismay,
Megan began calling her Tex when she moved back to Texas in 1995. At a point in
her career when she was going nowhere but up, Jeanie left Los Angeles and moved
home. She seemed to deliberately isolate herself and was perfectly happy with
mediocre success. Megan tried to reason with her, but her pleas fell on deaf
ears.
Thankfully,
whatever it was Jeanie had been dealing with, she'd managed to work through.
Megan noticed a definite change sometime around February or March 1997. She
seemed to be going through some sort of metamorphosis and so far, so good.
Jeanie seemed happier, more aggressive and definitely thinner.
"Meg?
Hi, what's up, girlfriend?" Jeanie giggled.
Meg
grinned. She loved hearing Jeanie's voice. Talking to her was like being
surrounded by fluffy, pink cotton candy. She spoke so softly that sometimes it
was hard to even hear her. She had a sweet southern accent and could easily
turn a simple one-syllable word into a three-syllable word. Megan loved to
tease her about it, but she never wanted her to change. It was as much a part
of Jeanie's charm as her infectious giggle.
"A
lot's up..." Megan picked up the current issue of Billboard Magazine.
"Tell me you're moving back to L.A."
"Nope,
next item..." Jeanie laughed. Megan always prefaced their conversations
with that statement and she always told her no.
"Shit,
okay. Then...do you remember a song you wrote while you were still out here,
"Our Time?" You realize it was covered by a new group, re-released
and," she paused to look at its ranking, "it's moving up the R&B
charts?"
"Cool..."
Jeanie purred. "I always loved that song."
Megan
began rubbing her temples. "Please tell me you were a good little girl and
did all your paperwork on the copyright shit the first go round." She knew
Jeanie was well aware of royalties and how BMI and ASCAP worked.
"Huh?"
Jeanie innocently teased.
"I'm
going to friggin’ kill you," Megan laughed. "Okay, well Momma Megan
had to ask. Do me a favor, get a secretary. I wouldn't worry so
much...okay...second thing, Mike Levine."
"Seen
him, don't really know him, but I know he's good." Jeanie responded
flatly. She knew he was a successful singer/songwriter from New York. That was
about it.
"Well,
you need to call him. He's looking for you," she quickly read off his
telephone number. "You guys could do good stuff together. Please don't
blow this off, Tex."
"Okay,
okay...what else?"
"Grammys.
You going?" Megan fired back.
"No,"
Jeanie's heart rate quickened. She couldn't run the risk of running into...
"Um, no. I'd rather not. You know how I hate award shows."
"I
know, but you need to get your ass out there." Megan could have throttled
her. "Kid, you're looking so good...flaunt it! Speaking of good, you need
new head shots..."
"Ugh,
Meg, NO! As far as the Grammys, we'll see." Jeanie knew she wouldn't go.
She wasn't ready yet.
"Yeah,
yeah..." Megan shuffled through papers. "Oh, I got a fan letter for
you. It was forwarded from a record company to us. From a girl in New York.
Shall I fax it?"
Jeanie
started laughing at the thought that she had a fan. Unless you were a
singer/songwriter like Elton John or Billy Joel, people usually didn't
recognize or remember a songwriter or lyricist. "No, that's okay...just
read it to me."
Megan
began to read:
Dear
Jeanie,
Hi!
My name is Lindsay Connings and I'm 19 years old. You don't know how much of a
fan I am and I really hope u take the time out to read this...I know you will
though, you seem like a great person. Thank you so much for those words you
write. You may never know how much they touch people's lives...especially mine.
I
love every one of your songs but the one that has touched me most was "The
Love I Never Had". You have no idea how I can relate to that song. It
feels almost as though you've met me, I've told you my problems, and you wrote
that song to try to tell me that everything will be ok. Every time I hear it, I
just break down and cry. But they aren't tears of pain. I feel like I'm not
alone in the world and that you have felt the same way I did.
Well,
there is so much more I can say, but there is no way I can express them in
words. I hope you get this letter and respond. Even if you don't respond,
knowing that you read how much I appreciate your work means the world to me.
Thank you.
Sincerely,
Lindsay Connings
Jeanie
blinked back tears. She couldn't speak. Megan knew how emotional Jeanie could
get. "So, kid...you will respond, right?"
"Of
course..." Jeanie whispered. "Okay, I'm okay...anything else?"
"Oh
yeah!" Megan chuckled. This would snap Tex out of it. "Who you know
in The Backstreet Boys?"
"What?"
"The
Backstreet Boys...come on, I know you live in Texas, but surely to God the Pony
Express has delivered some news about these guys..." Megan chided her.
"What..."
Jeanie stuttered, she felt like she couldn't breath.
"Hell,
I don't know. Somebody in their office called here a couple of times said they
were looking for you. Apparently, you know them...
All
Jeanie could think of was breathe in and breathe out... "No, that's a
mistake. I..uh...took Jess to see them last year, but...uh...no, no..."
"Calm
down," Megan tossed the pink telephone message slips into the trash.
"Well, for some reason somebody over there's looking for Jeanie
Kirkpatrick...and that's you. I'll take care of it, okay?"
After
they hung up, Megan retrieved the phone number from the trash. Whether Jeanie
liked it or not, she was definitely going to take care of it.
< Ain’t Nothing But A Heartache >