My forever Valentine didn’t arrive wrapped in shimmering gold foil. He came as a voice drifting through a wall, a sound that found my heart before I saw his face.
In the early ’90s, I was immersed in the fiercely competitive world of entertainment as EMI Music Publishing’s vice president of creative writer development. My days were spent listening to thousands of songs from writers hoping to land a coveted spot on the next chart‑topping albums. My efforts placed songs for recording with Christina Aguilera; Mariah Carey; Cher; Earth, Wind and Fire; Barbra Streisand, and *NSYNC to name a few!
Nights were no quieter. I was often in clubs seven nights a week, searching for that elusive spark, the artist who might become the industry’s next big star. I never could have imagined that an ordinary day spent pitching songs to record labels would lead me to the man of my dreams — and to one of my greatest professional triumphs.