Chapter 9 Keeley
Keeley
I recoil as Landon Banks approaches my car with way too much confidence.
And he was eerily quiet in our meeting, letting his employees do the talking. Something feels off, and I can’t put my finger on it. Whatever it is, I don’t like this feeling in my gut.
Every instinct tells me to throw my vehicle into drive and get the hell out of the parking garage, but I know this is the game, and I have to play it.
So I force the scowl off my face and roll down my window.
The cologne he doused himself in almost makes me gag as he leans on the door, and his pale skin is a little sallow and puffy in this light, no doubt from a drinking habit.
“Hey, Keeley, I’m so glad I caught you. We didn’t have a chance to catch up.”
I blink. “I wasn’t aware there was anything we needed to talk about.”
His eyes flash, but that too-perfect smile doesn’t leave his face. “Oh, come on now, KeeKee, we’re old friends.”
My jaw tenses. “I’m not a kid anymore. Please call me Keeley.”
His eyes rove over my body, lingering a little too long on my cleavage. I knew I should have buttoned a few more buttons under my blazer. “That’s for sure.”
Ew. “What do you want, Landon?” I clench my fists to try to ground myself, and it’s all I can do not to shove him away from my car. Part of me wants to get out just so I can tower over him, because that’s a thing men like him hate, but I don’t want to lose my getaway options.
It’s not that I feel exactly unsafe around Landon—he’s never physically threatened me, or any of my bandmates. But he’s a sleazebag who plays games. He takes credit for our work.
I don’t trust him at all.
He cocks his head. “I want what you want. I want to see my Glitter Bats succeed.”
I glance around the garage, hoping against hope that I’m not alone, and someone will interrupt before I say something that will get me in trouble. But I’m not that lucky.
“We’re not your anything anymore.”
Landon tenses. “I still own all of your music, in case you forgot.”
I want to snarl at him. Instead, I plaster on a smile that’s all teeth. “Tell me something I don’t know. Wasn’t discussing that the whole point of this meeting?”
He leans into my car, lowering his voice. “Indeed it was. I’m glad you haven’t forgotten. We own you, and we have the power here.”
God, does he think he’s a Batman villain or something?
“How nice for you.”
“Gina might be meeting with Wade out of professional respect, but I make the final decision, and I’m not giving an inch unless I want to. There’s a lot on the line here. I could take all of your music down, from every platform, and call it a write-off.”
“You wouldn’t.” My hands tighten on the wheel. There’s too much demand for our music right now. If they wrote it off, they’d look like idiots. But he does have that kind of power, and it makes me sick.
“Want to bet on that?” He shrugs. “You really should be nicer to me.”
I purse my lips, not liking where this is heading. “What do you mean?”
Landon’s eyes rove back down my body, then leer up at me. “Come up to my office. We can work something out.”
Literally gag me. I always knew Landon was a womanizer, and he’s fresh off his third very public divorce. Before, when we first made music at this label, I was practically a kid. Now, I’m twenty-nine, finally old enough to not make him look like a creep if he went for it.
As if he’d ever be my type. So gross.
Just then, the door to the garage creaks open, and relief melts over my shoulders. I smirk at him, refusing to be cowed.
Then I raise my voice so it’s loud enough for whoever has just joined us to overhear me crystal clear. “Are you propositioning me, Landon Banks?”
He splutters, going red-faced. “Of course not! I want to talk. God, you women are so paranoid these days. No one is here to threaten you.”
We’re paranoid because we have to be. I know that.
He knows that. But he gets to say shit like this, because he’s a rich cishet white man in a rich cishet white man’s world.
Fuck, I can’t believe we ever worked with this asshole.
I can’t believe I ever had his drumming photos on my walls.
Forget me, I don’t want him anywhere near my friends.
I shrug my shoulders back. “No, you’re just threatening my livelihood. And for the record, there is no scenario in which I would ever consider what you just implied. Now get the fuck away from my car.”
Landon straightens and steps away, a little stunned. Clearly, he’s not used to people standing up to him.
The clack of heels gets louder, and over Landon’s shoulder, I see Gina Choi in her Louboutins making a beeline for us, Wade close at hand.
Our manager is wearing a sharp-as-hell suit and a thunderous expression. Gina also looks all business in her pencil skirt, silk blouse, and those fuck-me heels.
Normally, Gina is serene and presents a united front with Landon. But now, she’s fuming.
“Mr. Banks, it’s time to go inside. You’re late for your next meeting,” Gina says stonily.
And just like that, Landon’s calm facade returns. “You’re absolutely right, Gina. We’ll be in touch soon, I’m sure.”
He turns on his heel and leaves. Gina looks at me, frowning. “What did he say to you?”
“It was nothing,” I say, even though, by the way she’s looking at me, we both know it’s not nothing. Still, I can handle assholes like Landon Banks. And when I can’t, well, that’s what the Taser in my glove box is for.
Gina pales, tucking a shiny lock of her bob behind her ear. “If you say so.”
“So we’ll be hearing from you, right?” Wade asks.
Gina nods sharply. “Absolutely. As we discussed.”
At that, she hurries back inside, leaving me alone with my manager.
“Are you okay, Keeley?” Wade asks quietly.
I cross my arms, laughing dryly. “Fucking great. Guess Landon doesn’t see me as a ‘kid’ anymore.”
Wade’s eyes darken. “That’s it. You’re not coming to any more of these meetings.”
Then, I really laugh. “Like hell I’m not! I’m not going to cower from Landon Banks just because he hit on me. I’m skeeved out, sure, but he can’t scare me.”
Wade sighs, running a hand over his fade. “Yeah, okay. But next time I’m walking you to your car.”
I nod, more determined than ever to fight back. “Sounds good, boss.”
He rolls his eyes. “Get out of here, Keeley. We’ll talk once I hear something.”
So I do. But my hands start to shake as I get on the highway—not because I’m scared, but because I’m pissed.
I pull over at the nearest exit and drive around aimlessly for a bit, until I find a place to get a green juice at a little hole-in-the-wall next to an art studio.
Beverage in hand, I decide to walk around a nearby park, trying to get my bearings and shake out all this weirdness.
What right does Landon think he has to not just our music, but my body?
Fuck that shit. Fuck it all the way to hell.
Glowering, I pull up our group text.
Me: For the record, Landon Banks is still a fucking creep.
Riker: WHAT DID HE DO?
Me: Nothing I can’t handle.
Valerie: Umm, hold on. That’s not an answer.
It’s not, but I don’t know how I’m supposed to tell them what just happened. Somehow, I feel embarrassed about it, which is bullshit. Fuck the patriarchy.
Jane: Keeley? Is everything okay?
And, well, that breaks me. Now that Jane is worried, I want to reassure her.
Me: He just hit on me. Big fucking surprise.
Caleb: EXCUSE ME?
Valerie: [April Kepner knife gif]
Riker: The next time I see that tiny man, I swear to god…
Jane: Oh my god, are you okay?
Me: It’s fine. Nothing happened, and he was dumb enough to do it in public so Gina Choi knows about it now. I’ve never seen her angry before.
Jane: Are you really fine, Keeley?
Me: Yeah, I’m okay. If anything, I just want to fight back harder, because I’m more pissed about what he said *before* he tried to hit on me.
Me: He reminded me just how much power they have over our music right now. As if I wasn’t already aware. He threatened to take our albums down from all platforms and write them off.
Caleb: He’s not going to do that. He’s making too much money off of us.
God, I hope Caleb is right. I agree with him, but Landon might pull some shit just because he wants to mess with us. I don’t trust him. Trying to steady myself, I take another sip of my juice and sink onto a nearby bench.
Riker: I’m sure that wasn’t the point. It’s a power play. He’s trying to remind Keeley that he could, which is absolutely ridiculous, but unfortunately true.
Valerie: So what do we want to do now? Do we want to *start* working on GB4?
Maybe we should. Despite what Gina said, I can’t forget the viciousness in Landon’s eyes.
If Label comes to the negotiation table at all, it’s not going to be pretty.
For a moment, I finally pause to consider: Is fighting for our masters worth my energy?
Or are we destined to lose? Another album is the safer route—Landon Banks can’t touch it.
My mouth goes dry as I think about the look on his face back in the garage. We used to be so afraid of him, and maybe we were right to be.
But I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I lean back against the bench and glance around at my surroundings, at the toddlers playing on the playground, the people playing fetch with their dog, others playing a pickup game of ultimate Frisbee.
Something about the normality of it all gives me perspective. Life goes on, even when I’m hyperfocused on the one thing I think I need. Yeah, I want to get the rights to our albums, but making something new is what we can control.
If we make the damn time for it.
Me: God, I would love to make another album, but I know you’re all slammed.
I brace myself for the comments, but then the band surprises me.
Caleb: We’re busy, but if we could at least start writing, I think it wouldn’t hurt.
Valerie: I’m in
Riker: Me too. Can’t wait to release something Landon Banks can’t touch.
I hold my breath until Jane responds.
Jane: I agree. Let’s get a little momentum going, at the very least.
I’m so relieved I could cry.
Riker: What if we plan a retreat in a few weeks? My uncles own that resort in Montana, and they made an open offer for us to stay there anytime, in exchange for a few tags on social media.
Caleb: Why don’t you all compare calendars? I can probably take a long weekend from work. They gave me a few personal days, and it’s a good time to get away, now that our fall concert is done.
Me: I’m in.
Jane: Sounds perfect.
Valerie: I’m actually pretty free for the next month, so let’s go for it.
Riker: Perfect. I’ll text you all the details. In the meantime, let’s try to get a little writing done on the side so we’re not starting from scratch.
Valerie: We…may have a few things we didn’t share with Label for More to Say…
Me: OH HELL YES
Caleb: You all should write stuff too! It’s always better when we’re all bringing stuff to the table.
Jane: I’d love to try! It’ll be a nice change after all the epic fantasy.
Riker: It’s decided then! Let’s make the best fucking album we’ve ever made. If we’re lucky, we might even make Landon cry.