24. Cut at the stem #2
“Alright, turn on the camera,” he said. The words caught her off-guard. She glanced at Preston, who’s arms were folded, confused by the move himself. “Ask away, Nairobi,” Mack insisted.
She leaned over and turned the camera on, then moved back to face him. Spring sat upright, calm, hands resting lightly in front of her.
Mack leaned back in his chair like he owned the room.
“Well, look at you,” he said, smiling wide. “Nairobi Greene. All grown up.”
Spring didn’t smile.
“The world knows me as Spring.”
Mack chuckled softly.
“The world may call you that, but you’ll always be Nairobi to me.”
Spring let the moment pass. Didn’t react. Didn’t correct him again. Just moved forward.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“Born ready.”
She nodded once.
“Let’s begin.”
She pulled out her phone and glanced down at her notes.
“Macknificent Townes. Manager. Executive. Architect behind one of the most successful R money ain’t evil. It’s a dirty game, but just because it’s dirty don’t mean it’s wrong.”
Spring picked up her pen again. “I didn’t say it was.”
But the way she looked at him made it clear: she was already following the trail.
And Mack knew it.
The tension didn’t snap when the questions stopped. It just… rearranged itself.
Mack clapped his hands once, easy smile back in place, like they’d just wrapped a productive meeting instead of circling each other with knives.
Talia entered the room and came to a halt when she spotted the camera.
She turned back around to leave. “Oh no. Whatever this is, I don’t want no parts of it.”
Mack stopped her in her tracks. “Nah, Talia baby, you might as well sit in on this, too, so I only gotta say it one time.”
“Mack, I’m not getting involved in?—”
Mack took off his shades to reveal his hazel eyes, stopping Talia in her tracks. “Listen, baby, I always told you I’d shoot it straight with you. Now, ya man need to say something and I need you to hear it.”
Talia paused, then nodded and went to sit on a stool at the bar.
Mack put his shades down and cleared his throat.
“I’ve spent the last few years of my life trying to fight for one thing: the legacy of Townes Records.
And because I had some tabloid nonsense when we all first met, I made a point to never own any of Preston Cole’s music.
I did that because I knew what it meant to be young and have the life taken from your art.
But like it or not, over the years we became a family.
Superstar, you’ve always been like the son I never had.
And baby, I still plan on making you whole one day. ”
He picked up his tequila and took a sip, then exhaled.
Spring pulled out her phone to FaceTime Rae. “Obviously I’ll need to verify everything you’ve claimed. Besides, you still haven’t mentioned how and why Cameron was signed to you.”
“Okay, you know what? Have it your way,” Mack said. “Let’s put it all on the line. Is that your little snoop over there? Tell her to snoop away.”
Rae’s face was already on the screen, half-lit by the glow of her laptop, glasses on, fingers flying. “So. I pulled everything public. Surface-level, it’s clean.”
Spring leaned forward. “Define clean.”
“No lawsuits attached directly to Preston. No unpaid vendors screaming on Twitter. No liens on the catalog.” Rae paused. “But that’s the thing. Nobody hemorrhages money quietly unless they’re plugging holes somewhere else.”