Chapter Twenty-One #2
“You think we have a shot?” Creed had rolled his contract into a cone. Like a child would so they could shout through it in an attempt to make themselves sound louder. Naturally, I hoped he didn’t plan to do that tonight. He always was the wild card in this group.
“I do.” Pauletta’s gaze traveled from every member of the band, but lingered on Malik.
Interesting. Does she realize he sort of leads this ragtag group? Likely.
“There’s a but.” Malik again pressed his knee to mine. “There’s always a but.”
“Carson Keriakos.”
Hell, even I knew the name. I might not have inhaled sharply—like every member of the band did—but I was damn curious.
“What about Carson Keriakos?” Reese scanned the contract with intense interest, her brow furrowing.
Creed dropped his to the table and picked up his hot chocolate. “Before it gets cold.” He took a sip.
I scanned the contract, specifically looking for the name.
Pauletta put her briefcase next to her chair and picked up her mug as well, taking a sip. “Mr. Keriakos is offering to produce your next album.”
Creed pumped his first in the air.
Reese managed to rescue the hot chocolate he nearly tipped—by dropping her copy of the contract.
“Uh, sorry.” Creed didn’t appear to be the least bit repentant.
Malik had assured me, quite some time ago, that they had every cleaning product known to man, and if for some reason he couldn’t get a stain out, his cleaner likely could.
I was still grateful to Reese.
“What’s the catch?” I placed the contract on my lap and snagged my hot chocolate. I knew, of course. Had absorbed enough through my scan of the contract.
“It’s not really a catch—” Pauletta cut herself off, clearly having spotted my arched eyebrow. “He’s asking for seven months.”
Freddie whistled.
Reese blinked.
Creed fist pumped again.
Malik inhaled sharply.
“Seven months is a long time. That would be the beginning of January until the end of July. I don’t know much about music, but I don’t believe it takes seven months to produce an album.” I wanted to ensure we were all on the same page.
Pauletta pursed her lips. “Perhaps not. What Carson is offering is more than an album, though. He’s offering to create a cohesive band. To up their game. To help secure them a spot in the Rocktoberfest lineup.”
“Seven months is still a long time. They have lives here in Vancouver.”
Malik shot me a look.
I shrugged. “You’re expected to stay secluded on his Greek island for the entire seven months.”
Reese’s eyes went wide. “Are you shitting me?”
I shook my head. “It’s all spelled out in the contract. Now, I didn’t catch all of the details—and I don’t know how much is negotiable.”
“Not much.” Pauletta sipped her hot chocolate again. “This is damn good.”
“Uh, thanks.” Malik continued to flip pages. “Seven months?” He cast me a surreptitious glance.
Don’t give anything away. You’ll miss him like fuck, but this could be his big break. “I think they need some time—”
“I don’t.” Creed raised his mug. “Carson Keriakos? Tell me where and when and I’m there. He’s just about the best there is.”
“He’s…” Malik gestured.
“Eccentric?” Reese contributing.
“Filthy rich?” Freddie having his say.
“Award-winning.” Malik placed his contract on the coffee table and took his mug. He didn’t lean back. “You’ve given us a lot to consider. Is your offer of representation contingent on whether we accept or not?”
Pauletta held his gaze. “One is negotiable. One is not.”
Her answer felt cryptic to me, but Malik nodded. “Understood.”
Mickey raised their hand.
Absurdly, I nodded.
“Mr. Keriakos has invited me to shoot a documentary about your time on the island. Well, I’d be the director. Lydia is the videographer, Kato is the sound engineer, and Thornton Graves would be doing much of the interviews. None of us would be there full-time, though. We’d come in periodically.”
“That’s the same with me.” Pauletta wrapped her hands around her mug. “I would have regular check-ins with all of you—to ensure everything’s running smoothly.”
“What about our family?” Freddie tapped the contract.
“You’ll have weekly phone calls, and for a week in May, they might visit.”
“That’s it?” Reese frowned. “This seems…” She gestured.
“Controlling?” I met Pauletta’s gaze.
“He has a process.” She looked at each band member. “He’s award-winning for a reason. I think a couple of years ago, Grindstone would’ve done anything for this opportunity. That you’re receiving it so early in your career shows Carson thinks highly of you. He sees great potential.”
“And he won’t consider coming to Vancouver? Or maybe a studio in London or LA?” I didn’t have authorization to negotiate on behalf of the band. That said, I wanted to know what other options were open.
Pauletta shook her head. “This is an all-or-nothing deal. They go to Greece or they’re on their own.”
“That’s pretty harsh.”
She arched an eyebrow at me. “I can still rep them, but they’d be fools to give this up.”
“Maybe we have reasons for wanting to stay in Vancouver—”
“Malik.” I said his name quietly.
“I’m in.” Creed puffed up his chest. “Mama will be thrilled to get rid of me for seven months.”
I wasn’t so certain. Mama Murthi carried on about wanting her son to grow up and move out, but she also gave him every incentive to stay—including home-cooked meals, laundry, and very little hassle.
“My employer.” Reese ran a hand through her hair. “We’ll be past Christmas and New Year, right? We leave on January fourth?”
“Yes, that’s correct.” Pauletta sat a little straighter—as if she could see she was on the verge of winning this battle.
“I have a life in Vancouver.” Malik again pressed his knee against mine.
“We can talk about it later.” I met his gaze as it shot to mine. “Or Moses and I move in here to take care of your place.”
“Our place. I already asked you to move in.”
“Woo-hoo.” Creed put his mug down, rose, and did a weird little happy dance.
“Aw shit.” Reese opened her phone case and produced the twenty-dollar bill she always kept hidden.
Freddie yanked his wallet from his back pocket and handed over a twenty as well with a rather disgruntled look on his face. “Thank God I didn’t agree to the hundred you wanted.” He shot a glare my way. “You couldn’t have waited until the new year?”
Reese sighed. “Or Valentine’s Day?”
“I haven’t moved in yet.” Truthfully, I found this amusing.
“But he asked, right?” Reese regarded me.
I didn’t consider lying. “Yeah, just now. When did you three place the wager?”
“Halloween. His idea.” She gestured to Creed. “I knew I was running a risk, but I honestly thought Malik had more sense.” She winced. “Not about you. This has very little to do with you.”
Malik chuckled. “Oh, I’d say it has everything to do with Spencer. And, for the record, I would’ve asked around Halloween if I could’ve gotten him to agree. He likes to take his time. He eases into things.”
“Greece is a great opportunity.” I held his gaze. “Moses and I will cope in this big place.” I intended to keep to a small portion of the place as my cat having free rein to roam didn’t feel like a good idea.
Slowly, he nodded.
“They have to have a private sit-down. They need to speak to their lawyer.” I aimed my best lawyerly stare at Pauletta.
She grinned. “Wouldn’t have it any other way. We’d appreciate a response before Christmas. Carson will send his private jet on the fourth.”
“Jesus.” Freddie whispered that.
I’d never flown more than business class on a 747. I was impressed. I shouldn’t have been…but I was. I hoped this display of wealth didn’t sway the others.
Reese rose. “I have to get going.” She eyed me. “You’ll set up a meeting with our lawyer? You have my availability.”
Being left to the task didn’t bother me. That she trusted me to organize things was a bit of an honor. She was often the brains of the group. “Of course. Happy to.”
“Right.” She headed out of the room.
“I’ll see her out.” Malik rose.
Freddie gestured for him to sit back down. “Creed and I are just leaving.”
“We are?” Creed’s eyebrows shot up.
“We are.” Freddie smacked his biceps.
Creed rose, and the two headed out.
Pauletta was slower to rise. “Anything I can say to convince you?” She directed the question at Malik, but her gaze flitted to me for just a moment.
She knows how to read the room.
“We’ll be in touch.” I rose. “Nice to meet you both.”
Mickey bounced out of their chair. “I hope you say yes. Not just because I’d love the opportunity to hang out on a private Greek island, though.” They met Malik’s gaze. “Because Pauletta believes in you. That means something. Okay, bye.” They bounded out—almost like a puppy.
Pauletta laughed. “They’re not always so enthusiastic. They’re not wrong either.”
“You make a lovely couple.” I didn’t normally comment on personal things, but Pauletta appeared besotted.
“More than a year and still going strong. We met because of Grindstone.” She turned to me. “They’ll always have an important part of my heart—but when it comes to business, I’m easily able to split my focus. I’ll do right by Razor Made. I promise.”
I believed her.