He brought the CD to a few offices, sat across desks from men and women in crisp suits, and remembered when she was there beside him. She was a hard bargainer, that girl. She was the reason he had even gotten the loan to make the CD, let alone the album itself. He owed her so much that even the piano wasn't enough to sate his want for her to be happy.
Happy. Was she happy? Was her husband treating her alright? It was impossible to forget the tremor in her voice as she sang of the metaphorical hill she had been forced to climb only to keep her husband satisfied. He thought of the baby girl, and wondered if little Ivanka was happy with her father. Or if there was any difference at all between him and the Czech man in her young naïve mind.
The companies all thought the CD was brilliant, but where was his band? His singing partner?
And then he knew just how invaluable the girl was to him.