Millions for a Song Read Online Free PDF Page A

and fall into each other’s arms, purring in contentment. In my ear, she whispers that she didn’t mean a word of it. Then langorously, “You have to know that when I sing, I sing for you ...”
    Obviously, she’s lying, but it makes me happy anyway. So I respond in kind. “I’ve got to tell you, Mélanie. Not only are you the most gorgeous girl I know, you’re also the smartest.”
    I can’t help adding, “Too bad you’re also the most insufferable!”
    She punches me in the ribs, hard enough to wind me. Then she kisses me with such ardor that it feels like she’s crossed a line. I am suddenly brutally full of desire for her. I absolutely have to step away, otherwise she’s going to have me wound around her little finger.
    â€œBad idea, Mélanie. It’s too dangerous a game.”
    She looks at me with soft eyes.
    I’m able to resist; we’ve got pressing matters to discuss, namely who will manage our band. The subject is even harder to broach because the man who’s aiming for the position really rubs me the wrong way.
    He’s one of those people who always look so sure of themselves, the kind who greet you like they’ve known you forever. Overdressed, of course, a suit and tie and such perfect hair you wonder how they don’t muss it up. Doesn’t the wind blow where they come from?
    When he accosted me, he had a Colgate smile plastered on his face. He said he’d heard about our band. He seemed to know so much I almost felt like asking whether he hadn’t founded the band, instead of us.
    He wasted no time before launching into his spiel. “I heard you at Brébeuf. No doubt about it, you’ve got potential. But you know, my man, a band needs a mover and shaker to make it in this world. And I’m your man.
    â€œI know the game. I’ve been in the music business for a long, long time. I started with Les Classels. I’ve managed Michèle Richard and Michel Pagliaro. Tony Roman. Then Corbeau. I’m planning to sign Marjo any day now. She’s a given since she used to work with Corbeau. I worked with Corey Hart, too.”
    He fixed me with a stare. He looked so smug, arrogance was positively dripping off him. Seemingly satisfied he had my attention, he ploughed forward, “I don’t waste time. So if you want to be one of the privileged few, I’m your guy. For twenty-five per cent of your earnings, I’ll have you playing all over Montreal and throughout the province. I already have two bookings lined up for you.”
    My incredulous stare played right into his hands. “You don’t believe me? Think I’m bluffing? Look at this.”
    From his jacket pocket, he pulled two actual contracts, one for a show at St. Pierre Clavier parish hall, the other for the Duvernay Rec Centre, each clearly stating that we’d be paid $450 to play an hour and a half show.
    I couldn’t believe my eyes.
    He chose that moment to show me how quickly it could all disappear. “Listen, my man, if you turn me down, I’ll just plug in another band’s name. No skin off my back.”
    His ploy practically had him salivating. He added, “On the other hand, if you accept, our partnership begins. Meaning if things go the way I think they will, we’re set for a meteoric rise. After six months, I can guarantee—as long as you work your butts off, of course—that I’ll land you an exclusive contract with a major recording company, Columbia, Geffen, or Mercury Records.
    â€œOnce you’re on the road to glory, the hit list won’t be far behind. The big time. We’ll be rolling in money. Hang on tight, my man, because it won’t be long before we’re in New York.
    â€œWe’ll travel from one capital to the next. Just like that. In the blink of an eye. We’ll cross the Atlantic, then the Pacific before there’s time to down a glass of scotch.