Gun Games - Faye Kellerman [55]
“They don’t—”
“Jesus, kid! Harvard? At least go to Princeton where they have a performance tract. How can you seriously think of going to a school without a performance option? And I’m supposed to believe you’re serious?”
Gabe said, “I figured I’d do maybe a joint program with New England Conservatory—”
“Which is a fine place, Gabriel. I’m not knocking NEC. But it isn’t Juilliard, and Boston isn’t New York.”
“Jeff, he’s very young.”
“Not so young.”
Nick said, “Young enough to take a year off to study.”
“A year yes, but not four years.” To Gabe he said, “If you want a university, USC is better than Harvard. At least you can study with Nick.”
“Jeff, have I ever steered you wrong?”
“Nick—”
“Have I?” Silence. “For the last time, let me handle this. You just concentrate on getting him some bookings.”
Gabe blurted out, “I’m not out to screw myself up, okay. If it’s a bad idea to go to Boston, I won’t go. And I know I’m not Yo-Yo Ma, but I figured if he went, it must be okay. But if you think it’s stupid, I’ll pass on Harvard, okay.”
Robinson sighed. “Look, Gabe. These are the facts on the ground. You have adult skills, but you’re still a kid. I know that. Nick knows that. In a perfect world, Nick and I could nurture you, but that isn’t going to happen. You’re going into an adult business with an emphasis on business. Got it?”
“I understand.”
“I don’t think you do, and that’s not your fault. We’re not talking about a recital or a competition or a schooled jury giving you marks. We’re talking ordinary people. Some will have decent ears, most will have appreciation for music, and there will even be some who are tone-deaf. But they’ll all be paying hard-earned money to see you perform. You’ve got to go out there every single time and put out. And you’ve got to know that every time you put your hands on a keyboard, you’re going to be critiqued. If you work hard, if you learn a sizable repertoire, if you practice, practice, practice, I have no doubt that you’ll be good enough to make a go at it. I’ve been at this for a while. I can tell after a few pieces who has it and who doesn’t. You’ve got the potential, and you certainly have the stagecraft. And you may rise to the vaunted top of being good enough for a solo career. You’ll get your raves, but, buddy, there are times when you’re going to be slammed. I’m your advocate out there. I’m the one who’s going to be reading the reviews and underlining the salient remarks. If I think the review is bullshit, I won’t even show it to you. But if I think you’re fucking up, I’m going to tell you and I expect you to change. I don’t represent losers, understand?”
“I have no problem with that.” Gabe shrugged. “Without being haughty, I know I’m terrific. But I also know how to take criticism. Just ask Nick.”
“He’s got an ego, but he’s also not stubborn,” Nick said.
“That’s good,” Robinson said. “That’s exactly what I want to hear.”
“Satisfied?” Nick said.
“For the time being.”
“Can we talk about what you potentially have for him this summer?”
“Depends how much he wants to work.”
“He wants to work.”
Jeff turned to him. “Do you want to work?”
“Absolutely. That’s what I’m here for.” Gabe stood up. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?” Jeff demanded.
“Can I take a piss?”
Jeff waved him away.
Gabe went into the hallway and blew out air. Jeff was difficult but up-front. Compared to Chris, he was a grounder. Gabe took out his mobile and punched in his father’s number. Chris changed his cells like cigarettes so Gabe was always surprised when the line actually kicked in. He was even more surprised when Chris answered the phone.
Donatti answered, “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
“What do you want?”
“I just auditioned for this agent.”
“What agent?”
“His name is Jeff Robinson, and he books everything from Carnegie Hall to expensive private salon events. Nick is trying to get me slots in some of the summer chamber music festivals.”
“How’s it going?”
“Well,