Chapter 4
FOUR
Fisher
Breakfast at the Colorado Club is a banquet fit for a king. And certainly, the reigning queen of pop.
Vivian slides into the booth opposite me. “Never bring me here again.”
My stomach churns. Did I make a mistake, bringing her to Colorado? It’s certainly different from any place I’ve ever recorded, and I’ve been to a lot of different studios. New York, Tokyo, London, LA—even Sheffield, Alabama. And the tech is state of the art. But that’s not always what it’s about.
“You don’t like it?” I ask.
My concentration has been shot since seeing Juniper the night before last. The way she talked about people living down or up to expectations.
I can’t stop thinking about it. Maybe I’ve been missing signs that Vivian wasn’t happy over the last twenty-four hours.
I need to refocus on Vivian. I’m not here to have a six-week fling with a beautiful blonde who got pulled away by her friends after pool and then left before I could get her number.
“It’s phenomenal. And the food is too good. I might never want to leave.”
I exhale. Thank god. I need Vivian to be happy.
“I’m leaving twenty pounds heavier at least. And I’m blaming it on you.”
“I’m good with that.”
“And your mate put in all the equipment because you told him to? It must have cost him a fortune.”
I chuckle. “Hearing you say mate in an American accent is hilarious.”
“I’m learning all your Britishisms from my husband. Mate is a favorite.”
“It’s a good one. And, yes, Byron wanted it to be a place where artists who didn’t want to go out partying could come and work, but also immerse themselves in the surrounding space.”
“It’s wonderful. And the fact that Beau and baby Victoria can come and it can be family time when I’m not in the studio is such a bonus.”
“Yeah, I have to say, I’m not used to seeing artists at breakfast while they’re recording.”
She laughs. “Well, I’m a mama now. I’ve been able to spend a couple of hours with Victoria this morning, and then we can do some time in the studio before I get her into bed. That’s what’s so great about having Beau and Victoria on-site. I can do it all.”
She beams at me. It’s such a relief to have her happy. I would never have believed that I could sign a star like Vivian when I was starting Right Records. I just wanted to start a record label that didn’t treat everyone like shit and then pretend it was art.
“As long as you’re okay.”
“Couldn’t be happier,” Vivian says. “Oh god, speaking of the exact opposite of happy. Did you hear the news about Gerry Banks?”
My stomach hits the floor at the mention of my old nemesis, and I freeze. What’s she going to say?
“Re Records tried so hard to sign me, and I’m so freaking glad I didn’t. My manager was definitely pro Re. But something didn’t feel right, despite them being the biggest label in North America. And now with Gerry taking over? Do you know the guy?”
“Wait, Gerry Banks is taking over Re Records?”
Vivian takes a spoonful of the yogurt thing that’s in front of her and groans at the taste. Then she turns her attention back to me. “Yeah. Can you believe it? I thought he was all about management, but apparently not.”
Gerry and I were both in A&R at EMG Records way back when. And when the place went under, Gerry started managing artists. He’s been pretty successful.
“He’s a strange guy,” I say. “I used to work with him.”
“Is he as cutthroat as people say he is?”
I don’t like to speak badly of people, but Gerry Banks is loathsome. He’s one of the few people I’ve ever met who I’d cross the street to avoid, and that’s saying something. There are plenty of snakes in the world of entertainment.
“We were both quite young when we were at EMG, but he was… I could never prove it, but I’m pretty sure he targeted artists I was forming relationships with and would swoop in and…”
“Steal them?” she offers, nodding. “Doesn’t surprise me. The guy is… he’s not a good guy.”
“I certainly didn’t like working with him.”
He’s invited me to a few showcases since those days. Even tried to set up a meeting with me about an artist one time. But I’ve tried to dodge all contact. I’ve never wanted anything to do with him.
“But it’s hard to avoid the bad guys in this industry, right?” she asks.
“I think it’s the same in any industry where there’s money to be made, but resources are scarce. There aren’t many real stars, and there are lots of people who want to find what there is.”
There are plenty of untrustworthy people in the music industry, but Gerry is another level of bad.
He’s rotten. To his core. Not only did he steal artists from me.
He started various rumors about me. And tried to get me fired.
I have no idea how the guy has ended up as the head of Re.
It doesn’t make sense. He’s been out of that game for so long now.
There must have been plenty of more qualified people.
I really want to ditch Vivian and go and investigate what’s going on.
Luckily for me, Vivian wants to know what’s going on almost as much as I do. She pulls out her phone and starts searching for information.
“I guess,” Vivian says. “I think Gerry takes it to another level.” She holds out her phone.
Gerry looks exactly the same as when I last saw him. Slick. Polished. Smiling. I fight the urge to shudder.
“Well, as long as he leaves me alone.”
While I’m looking at Vivian’s phone, a call comes through. Re Records flashes up on the screen. Does she have their number saved or did it come up automatically?
My mind starts to race, and I nod toward the phone. “Looks like someone’s calling you.”
Vivian sees who’s calling and grimaces. “Why would they be calling me? And how in the hell do they have my number?”
“You could answer,” I suggest. Curiosity is probably going to be the death of me, as well as the cat.
She shrugs and accepts the call. “Hello? Who is this?”
She listens. The tinny chatter of someone talking on the other end of the line fills the silence between Vivian and me.
“No, sorry, I’m not interested, and anyway, any requests should be put through my assistant or my manager and—”
My jaw tenses. They’re trying to poach her. Typical.
She’s interrupted, and then goes silent, listening to whatever it is the other person has to say. She glances at me, rolls her eyes, and finally says, “Fine.” Then she hangs up.
“Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear.” She groans. “Can you believe that was Gerry freaking Banks?”
My stomach roils, and my hands ball into fists. What a fucking snake.
“I don’t know why he decided to call me, and I don’t know how the hell he got my number.”
“Did he say why he was calling?” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel like an idiot.
We both know why he was calling. He wants to lure Vivian over to Re. He’s got balls—I gotta give him that. And I’d really like to chop them off if I get a chance.
“He said he’s having a small dinner to mark his new job and wanted to know if I’d go.”
She makes a face like she’s tasting vinegar, and I appreciate it.
Maybe she really hates him. Maybe she doesn’t.
Despite what Juniper said the other night, I have very clear expectations when it comes to talent—they won’t necessarily tell you if they’re thinking of jumping ship.
They leave their managers to give bad news.
I pull in a breath, trying to stay calm. What I want to do is punch something. Go for a run. All of a sudden, I have all this pent-up energy inside me that needs a release.
“That’s weird,” I say.
I want to try and figure out exactly what Gerry’s plan is.
The fact that he’s calling Vivian—Right Records’ biggest-ever signing—straight out of the gate seems like an act of war.
And wars are won and lost not on who has the biggest gun, but who has the best intelligence.
I want to know everything about Gerry fucking Banks’ plans.
Because then I’ll be in a better position to be able to defend myself.
“Maybe,” she says. “I was between Re and Right Records when I was signing. He’s probably wondering whether he can win me over.”
I chuckle. “I’m absolutely certain that’s what he’s wondering.”
Vivian holds up her croissant like it’s a microphone and then takes a bite off the end. “Well, he can fuck off. He’s a dick.”
Could have ignored the call, I don’t say.
Could have hung up as soon as you knew who it was, I don’t say.
Could have said no to dinner, I don’t say. I didn’t hear her decline. The last thing she said was, “Fine.” My jaw clenches. That could have been, Fine, I’ll think about it. Fine, I’ll come for an hour. Fine, send the invitation over to my manager.
And god knows what incentives Gerry dangled to try to get his own way. I’ve got X, Y, and Z hot actor or actress coming, and they would love to meet you. Or, Afterwards, there’s a private showing of an art exhibition or a movie.
With his new position, Gerry is now one of the most powerful people in the entertainment industry. There are a lot of things he could offer Vivian that might be appealing to her.
“Can you believe we were just talking about him, and then he just called? How bizarre!”
“I’m sure he’s calling all my clients.” My stomach drops as I say the words, and I ball my hands into fists.
Of course that’s what he’ll be doing. If I was right, and he targeted me personally at EMG, he may well do the same now. Maybe I’m being paranoid, and the guy has forgotten I exist, but something tells me he’s shooting his shot, and I’m his bull’s-eye.
This couldn’t have happened at a worse time.
I need to be back in New York, at my desk, on the phone, my ear close to the ground.
Or I should be putting in face time with my artists.
With their managers. But I’m stuck here.
In Star Falls, Colorado. And my gut says Gerry Banks is going to do his best to fuck with me.