Chapter 144 The Quest for Answers
“Have you ever wanted to go to Tennessee?” Byron asked quite casually one evening as they were dining out in one of the city’s best seafood restaurants.
Emily looked out the window, the pane marred by sad streaks of rain. It was the coldest and wettest time of the year, and now that Christmas was over, the winter season seemed to drag on and on. Who wouldn’t want to be in the warm, green valleys of Tennessee?
“That seems like a random question,” Emily said, “but I’m guessing it’s not. Wait a minute… does this have something to do with Quinn Faines?”
Byron’s lips formed a mysterious and sexy smile. “It might…”
“What have you discovered?” she asked eagerly.
“Nothing,” Byron said. “Which is why I’m going to see him in person.”
“It sounds like he wants to be left alone,” Emily remarked, “Whatever is going on with him, maybe he doesn’t want to do private concerts for us anymore.”
“I don’t believe that.” Byron picked at his mashed potatoes with his fork. “And if he doesn’t want to do a concert for us for whatever reason, I want to know why. It could be some other tabloid stories about me trying to make me look crazy again, and if that’s the case, we need to straighten things out.”
“So how are you going to convince him that you’re not crazy?” Emily asked with a slight smile.
“I don’t know,” Byron replied, “I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. And I know what you’re going to say: it might seem crazy to travel such a long distance to see someone I barely know. But although he might not be a close friend, I felt like we had some good times together, and I don’t want to lose his respect. If there’s anything I can do to defend myself and my reputation, I should do it.”
“It might not be anything about you,” Emily said, “Maybe he’s just tired of touring.”
“Yes, but I hate not knowing what’s going on. If there’s any chance it’s personal, I need to see him.”
“You’re right,” Emily said. “We can’t take a chance on our country music idol despising us. I’m coming with you.”
A few days later, Byron’s private jet took them across the continent to the south-eastern U.S.
The address of Quinn Faines’s mansion just outside of Nashville was common knowledge as most celebrities’ living situations were usually disclosed all over the internet. But they decided it might be crass to just show up at his house. Instead, they headed to the studio where he recorded his songs, hoping to catch him, or at least get some news about what was going on with the country star.
“I should be wearing that outfit I modeled for Freerange Rider,” Byron said as their cab took them closer to the center of Nashville.
This was the place for current and aspiring music artists, as well as tourists who came to see the famous studios and museums of country and gospel music.
The receptionist at the studio was a young woman probably in her twenties who looked a little bored.
“Hi, we’re looking for Quinn Faines,” Byron began, “I’m an acquaintance of his. I’d like to book him for a private concert.”
“Quinn hasn’t been in today,” said the receptionist indifferently. “Probably won’t be.”
“Do you know if there have been any changes recently?” Emily asked. “He’s agreed to sing for us before, but this time he won’t talk to us.”
“I dunno,” the woman shrugged her shoulders.
“Will he come by the studio tomorrow?” Byron tried.
“Maybe…”
“Okay,” Byron said, when the two of them stepped away from the desk. “Either she doesn’t know anything or she’s hiding something.”
“I do have the feeling she knows something,” Emily confirmed.
“I have an idea…”
Byron returned to the front desk and pulled out a hundred dollar bill from his wallet.
“I’ve come a long way to speak to Quinn. Maybe you could advise me on how to find him…” he put the money into a brochure and passed it to the receptionist discretely.
“Oh!” Her eyes lit up, and she grew cheerier. “Why didn’t you say you were looking for Quinn? The best way to meet him is to go to the Outback Buffet across the street from here. He has lunch there almost every day.”
"I can't believe that worked," Emily said, giggling as they walked out of the studio building into the warm sunlight.
“Well, that felt kind of cheesy,” Byron replied, “but sometimes money is the best way to get some answers.”
