The Comeback (BWWM Interracial Romance Book 7) Read Online Free PDF Page B

to sing differently. You’re going to have to write differently.”
    Amber shrugged. “I can sing. I have a voice—you know that about me or you wouldn’t have even agreed to meet with us.”
    “You do. You can. But everything you’ve put out over the last two years or so has been a baby voice; a teenager’s voice. You need to show everyone you’re a grown woman.”
    Amber took a deep breath. She thought about what David was telling her. Part of her mind—the part that had built up her ego over the course of years of fame—rebelled against what he was saying. She knew she was a damned good singer. But another part whispered that he was right. She’d let herself be steered into more commercial waters. She’d let herself be guided by people who told her that they knew what they were talking about.
    And then, of course, she’d devoted herself to furthering Kobe’s career, and done little more than record featured spots in his songs. She’d done what made other people happy, instead of consulting herself. “Just listen to the new song,” she said, suddenly wanting to prove David Underhill wrong. He smiled slightly and his hands moved on the console.
    Her slightly faltering piano line came on first. Amber knew that she wasn’t an amazing pianist—but the melody she’d had in her mind had been irresistible. She had to get it down, words and all. Hearing about Kelsey, about Brenton’s dashed hopes, seeing him again after everything she’d been through, had brought back something of the magic she’d enjoyed when she was just a teenager, writing songs for herself, dreams of fame in her mind. Her voice came in—not as smooth as usual, not as polished as her albums, but really her , and Amber smiled to herself, her fingers mutely tapping out the rhythm on the tabletop. She knew it was a damned good song; she knew it in her bones. Whether David Underhill thought so or not was irrelevant. If he didn’t like it, she would find someone who did. It was going on her next album even if she had to get herself out of her contract and record it independently.
    Everyone in the room went silent, and held their silence as the song died out, looking at each other. “This,” David said, after Amber had started to feel uncomfortable with the long lapse, “is something we can base a record off of. This is something we can work with.”
    Amber smiled.
    “I agree,” Rebecka said. “This is something we can package, something we can market. Heartbreak—it’s the classic subject.” Amber didn’t care about that; she was only happy that for once she wasn’t being told that her voice sounded too shrill, or that her lyrics were all over the place, that she was failing.
    “Is that the direction you want to go with?” Carl folded his dark hands in front of him.
    Amber shrugged. “I’m still working out my direction,” she said. “I don’t know for sure where I’m going. Last month I was angry and pissed off.”
    Rebecka laughed.
    “Well,” David said. “I think there’s room for angry and pissed off and heartbroken to coexist.”
    Amber smiled slightly.
    David called up her previous efforts on the console and played them through; for once, Amber found herself vindicated. “I think you can polish this up just a little bit,” he said of one of the tracks. “This one I think you start off right, but you go and take it somewhere it doesn’t need to be. Keep the chorus, but start over on the verses.” He gave her notes on everything she had been working on, and then circled around to the track she had brought with her once more.
    “I really like this as the foundation of an album,” Rebecka said. “I’d say go back, rework the songs the way that David’s suggested, and move forward from this new position.”
    Amber glanced at Carl.
    “I’m inclined to agree. You need to reconnect to your fans; this will help you do that. If the label thinks it’s good, then we have a path forward.” Amber felt more and more