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Microsoft Word - 2014_Great_American_Fiction_Contest-The_Talent_Scout-by_Christine_Venzon.docx

Prosper rose with her. “Maybe you could get in to see the Grizzlies.” She shook her head. “You never know who’ll be in the lineup next season. I’ll waste two months sketching Pau Gasol and he’ll jump to the Lakers next year.” She drove him back to Handy Park in silence, debating, wrestling with specters that had turned on her like ruby port to vinegar. As he opened his door, she said, “I can’t promise anything, but I know some people. Dexter Wiles. He’s kind of an A&R man. Works a lot with club managers. His wife Lucille is, well, a woman worth knowing. You want me to talk to him?” “Uh — sure. That’d be great. But … I don’t want to sound rude, but why are you doing all this for me?” Because you can’t do anything for me, she wanted to tell him. “I told you. I love being around people with passion.” She called Lucille at lunchtime the next day. “You know I don’t know about the technical, got-the-fingering-right stuff. But this guy is good. He knows what the blues are about. He’s got a blues heart and a blues soul. He’s real. Real good.” Lucille’s Cheshire cat smile was as audible as her Georgia drawl. “You sure it’s his heart and soul that’s got you excited?” Marti sent a smirk over the lines. “Been there, done that. Come on, Lucille. You’re way too young to be my mama. Act your age.”


Microsoft Word - 2014_Great_American_Fiction_Contest-The_Talent_Scout-by_Christine_Venzon.docx
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