Present Day

Glen stared at me like I’d just turned down a million dollars for doing nothing more than writing a book report.

“What?” he asked, stunned.

“No,” I croaked, fully aware I was throwing away the best opportunity of my career thus far. Maybe even the best opportunity of my entire career, even if it lasted four decades. “Sorry.”

“You do understand what I’m offering you, right?”

“To write an article on Derek Kane.”

“And the band,” Glen stressed, as though that might be the piece of information I had overlooked.

“Yeah. No thank you.”

“Not just a half-page fluff piece – I’m talking a full-on, six-page spread. I mean, if you turn in a good enough story, we’re potentially talking the cover.”

“Yeah. Thank you, but no.”

The longer he stared at me, the more his disbelief turned to anger. “You do realize that is a one in a million offer, right? You don’t just get handed the cover of Rolling Stone – not when you’re some unknown writer a year out of college. I mean, you realize that, right?”

“Yes, a