Grace Unplugged: A Novel by Melody Carlson Page A

the right decision. In jeans and a flowing white blouse and vest, she didn’t exactly look like she was on her way to Sunday school, but she didn’t look like she was about to perform in an LA club either.
    Grace could hear the bass thumping outside the club. She watched as several scantily dressed twenty-something women went inside, followed by a couple of guys in that same age range. Grace knew she didn’t fit in with this crowd . . . didn’t belong here. But she also knew this was how singers got started. Mossy had already told her that even her dad had paid his dues singing at clubs like this. Everyone did.
    She braced herself as they went into the dimly lit club. Naturally the music was louder in here, and, to her disappointment, the band playing seemed substandard. Although that could work to her benefit too—if she was better than they were. However, she was unsure of why people were here. Wasn’t it primarily to dance? Did anyone really care whether the music was good or not?
    “Get a feel for the room,” Mossy said loudly, to be heard over the music. “I’ll tell Tommy we’re here.”
    Grace nodded, watching as Mossy went off in search of the club manager. She tried to act nonchalant as she watched the patrons interacting with one another. But the more she watched, the more it became crystal clear. People were here for two things—to drink and to hook up. Music was secondary. In fact, it probably would make no difference if a DJ was working this joint. She glanced across the room to see that Mossy was talking to a man that she figured was Tommy. The two seemed caught up in their own little world, and Mossy was completely oblivious that she was over here, practically having a panic attack as she cowered in the corner. Everything inside of her told her to run—run fast and don’t look back.
    She glanced over her shoulder to see a man who appeared to be in his forties staring at her with way too much interest. Oh, great, had she managed to attract a stalker? Or perhaps it was an undercover cop who had figured out that she was underage. She felt her eyes growing wide as he came directly toward her. Running seemed ridiculous since she would probably be safer in here anyway.
    “You must be Grace,” he said loudly.
    She blinked. Was she imagining this?
    “You’re Grace Trey, right?” He smiled and she relaxed a little.
    “Yes.”
    He reached to shake her hand. “Larry Reynolds, Sapphire Music.”
    Grace tried to act perfectly natural—as if she wasn’t blown away that the president of one of the biggest music labels knew her name. “Pleased to meet you,” she said in a surprisingly natural-sounding voice.
    “Big fan of you dad,” he told her. “Loved your demo.”
    A smile of relief crept onto her face and, as she thanked him, she looked at him more closely. For a man his age, he was attractive and nicely dressed.
    “I’m looking forward to hearing you perform tonight,” he said warmly.
    “Thanks.” She made a stiff smile. “I’m feeling a little nervous.”
    He nodded. “Perfectly natural.”
    Then, just like that, Mossy was gathering her up, giving his regard to Larry, and swooping her away. It wasn’t until they were backstage that she spoke her mind. “You didn’t tell me Larry Reynolds would be at my first show!” she exclaimed.
    “You never know! They show up when they show up.”
    “They don’t call first or anything?”
    “Look, just forget he’s even here. This night is about you.”
    She pressed her lips together, trying to breathe evenly, trying to relax.
    “Listen to me,” Mossy said calmly and slowly, “you’ve heard this song your whole life. You and the band rehearsed for over an hour. And it felt good, right?”
    She nodded. “Yeah. I guess.”
    “It was great,” he assured her. “Things move fast around here. Just relax, Grace. This is your time. Enjoy it.” He handed her a bottle of water. “Just breathe and focus and relax. You’re gonna rock this