Chapter 5
Aspen
I’m good people… apparently. Who knew.
It felt good to be home.
I’d spent an unplanned weekend in London going over Joz’s contract, and only once I’d sent it to the relevant parties did I get on a plane back to New York. I could have flown back on Friday morning, but I wanted to stick around in case something came up that required my presence.
Truly, I hadn’t expected him to cave on Presley.
He’d been so adamant that the young musician be a part of the deal that, if he’d pushed, I’d have agreed in the end.
Signing Joz Raynor was worth yielding on this single point, especially given the amount of talent Presley had…
even if I had told Joz I didn’t give in to manipulation tactics.
Still, I’d emerged in a strong position, and that pleased me.
I’d already set my head of PR, Sam, the task of researching Presley, and providing there were no red flags in his background, and the board had no objections, I’d pull together a deal.
I swept through immigration and into my car, only suffering the sweltering New York heat for a few moments.
The drive from JFK to our head office in downtown Manhattan took longer than usual, thanks to a wreck on the highway, but at five after ten, I arrived.
Penn, I learned from his assistant, had decided to stay in Europe at the last minute to take the opportunity to scope out a few potential restaurant sites, which was disappointing.
I’d have liked a wingman before presenting the Joz deal, and a potential contract for Presley, to the board that afternoon.
After fueling myself on two cups of iced coffee, I called Sam into my office. She arrived with a manila folder tucked under one arm and a strawberry Frappuccino in the other.
I grinned. “You’re nothing if not predictable.”
“I know they’re like a bazillion calories, but life is for living.” She sat in the leather chair across from my desk and took a big slurp. “If my hips end up made of nothing but caramel donuts and Frappuccinos, it’s not the worst thing that could happen.”
“True.” I jerked my chin at the folder.
Surprisingly for a woman in her mid-twenties, Sam was old school. She liked to print out her research rather than, as she called it, waste time putting together a presentation no one would read.
“Hit me with it.” She opened the folder. Inside was a single sheet of paper. I frowned. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“No red flags?”
“I mean, he’s not squeaky, but nothing we wouldn’t find in most bios of young guys.
Born in South-East London to working-class parents.
Mom is a cleaner. Dad’s a truck driver. Presley is their eldest child.
They have a second son who’s sixteen. A couple years ago, Presley was arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct.
Spent the night at the police station. Bailed the next morning with a slap on the wrist. Been with his band for two years but had no luck breaking out. ”
“That’s because his band is shit.”
“There’s my hard-nosed, ball-busting boss.”
“Just calling it like I see it.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” She closed the file and slurped her drink. “You gonna sign him?”
“Maybe. He’s a hell of a talent, and if I don’t scoop him up, sooner or later, someone else will.”
“How did you come across him?”
“Joz Raynor.” I raised my arms overhead and stretched. “He bailed on my meeting on Thursday, then called me to this dive bar where Presley was playing.”
She frowned. “How does a guy like Joz Raynor stumble across an unknown kid from the other side of the tracks?”
“Saw a video of him online, apparently. He tried to tag a contract for Presley onto his own negotiations.”
Her eyes rounded. “He didn’t?”
“Oh, yeah, he did.”
“And what did you say?”
“Told him I didn’t take kindly to his manipulation tactics and was prepared to walk away from a deal with him if he wouldn’t budge.”
“Wow. Considering you’ve been chasing this guy around the globe for eighteen months, that was brave.”
“Hardly chasing.” Definitely chasing. “Give a rock star like Raynor an inch, and he’ll walk all over me. It’s not worth the headache.”
“Fair enough. He caved, I take it.”
“Yep.” I broke out into a grin. “Sent the contract to his people late last night, then immediately got on a plane home.”
“It’s a coup, Aspen. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
“He hasn’t signed yet.”
“But he will.”
A shiver of… something… trickled down my spine.
My music label was small enough that I could be hands-on with my musicians, which meant if Joz did sign, he and I would spend a lot of time together.
Despite what I’d said about never mixing business with pleasure, my lady parts were not unhappy about that scenario.
Although I would never date a musician, especially a world-famous one like Joz.
Every single one I’d ever come across was dealing with more baggage than an airport on the fourth of July, and I’d wager Joz was no exception.
Great flirt, though.
“Your eyes have glazed over.”
I blinked, pulling myself back to the present. “Sorry. Was miles away.”
“In bed with Joz Raynor?”
“Ew, no. For one, I’m too busy for relationships. For another, the man has an ego the size of a planet. There’s no room for anyone in his life besides his inflated sense of self.”
She wafted a hand in front of her face. “Hot, though.”
“If you like that sort of thing.” I reached across the table and plucked the sheet of paper from her hands before running my eyes over it. “Thanks for this. I appreciate the quick turnaround.”
“That’s part of my job.” She got to her feet and scooped up her Frappuccino. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
As the door to my office closed, I opened a blank presentation document. Sam might not like this form of communication, but the Kingcaid board insisted on it.
At three o’clock, I signed into the board meeting from my office computer.
If Penn were here, we’d gather in one of the conference rooms, but as it was just me, so there wasn’t any point.
The Seattle boardroom came into view, with my father, both my uncles, and my cousin Asher already seated.
We chatted while we waited for the rest of the family to join.
At five after three, we were all present, and Asher’s father, my uncle Joshua, kicked off the meeting.
He and his brother’s rotated the chair, and this month was his turn.
We went through the standard agenda items, then each of us gave a business update.
When my turn arrived, I had a momentary rush of nerves.
Silly, really. They were my family, and they were likely to support me, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t grill me like a steak on a barbeque.
We hadn’t become this successful by letting family loyalties get in the way of good business decisions.
“First of all, Joz Raynor has agreed to sign with us. I sent the contract to his people last night.”
“Well done,” Dad said, beaming. “I knew you’d get him in the end.”
“Well, he hasn’t signed yet, but he will. Downside is he’d only agree to a three-year, two-album deal, with an option for a further two, but I can live with that.”
“What else did he demand?” my eldest brother, Roman, asked.
“Creative control, but again, that’s not surprising, and something I was happy to agree to.
He’s experienced enough to know what sells.
” Unlike Presley. “I’ve alerted our publicity department to begin drafting the press release, so the second he signs, we can make the announcement.
I don’t want this getting out before we’re ready and someone stealing our thunder. ”
Dad nodded. “Good call.”
I fielded a few more questions, then moved on to my other piece of news.
“There’s one more thing I wanted to raise with you.
” I shared my screen and pressed play on the video I’d scraped from the internet of Presley singing.
The picture was grainy and the sound awful quality, but both Presley’s green stage presence and achingly soulful voice came through well enough.
It was only a ninety-second video, and once it ended I clicked through to the next slide, where I’d laid out my pitch.
“What you just heard was a singer by the name of Presley Knox. He’s a complete unknown, but he has oodles of raw talent, and I would like your blessing to sign him to a contract with Kingcaid Music.
I’m looking at two years initially, with an option to extend, but if he works out as I hope he will this could be a lucrative deal. ”
“Great voice,” my cousin Johannes piped up. Out of all of us, he was usually the quietest at these meetings. He ran our exclusive nightclub business, and over the last few years, he’d grown exponentially, both in business and in his personal life. I, for one, couldn’t be happier for him.
“Agreed,” Roman said. “Great looking, too. Sure he doesn’t want to get into movies?” Roman ran our film studios out of Los Angeles.
“Hey.” My other brother, London, who headed up our TV studios, gave Roman a sharp dig in the ribs. “TV and streaming services are the new Hollywood.”
“Neither of you can have him. He’s my find, and providing there are no objections, I plan to meet with him sometime this week.”
“Okay, let’s take a vote,” Uncle Joshua said.
No one dissented, and the motion was passed.
Excitement coursed through me. I wasn’t over the line yet, but I had no doubt Presley would be all too keen to sign with me, and Joz was virtually in the bag. Two brand new signings—an established megastar and a hidden talent—was a hell of a coup for a small label like ours.
My phone dinged with a message.
Penn: Knew Raynor wouldn’t be able to resist. An amazing find, too. Congratulations. You’re a fucking superstar.
For the rest of the meeting, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.
Two days later, I met with Presley over video call.
Talk about a bundle of nerves. I felt sorry for the kid and did my best to put him at ease, but every time he raised his hand to rake his fingers through his jet-black hair, it shook.
I presented him with our offer and advised him to get a lawyer to look it over.
It wasn’t my place to spoon feed him, but there were too many vultures in this business eager to make a fortune off the backs of talented individuals without giving them a fair deal.
I prided myself on being different, and advising Presley fell in line with my ethics.
After the call, I could not resist sending a text to Joz.
Me: Signed yet?
I didn’t expect an answer, but one came anyway, almost immediately.
Joz R: Still waiting for lawyer approval (rolling eyes emoji).
I chuckled.
Me: At this rate, Presley will have signed before you.
Three dots appeared, then disappeared, then reappeared. His reply, when it came, was quite the surprise.
Joz R: Thank you, Aspen. You are good people.
I stared at that text for a straight five minutes, unable to conjure a reply. In the end, I chose not to respond, but the blooming pride in my chest stayed with me for the rest of the day.