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“Group hug!” EJ yells, laughing along.
Maddox is the first to break up our moment, and tells me to get back to work and write a breakup song that Bret will truly regret one day. We don’t do that, but we do get back to brainstorming on new music for the next hour. We can’t get into much of a rhythm, though, as Bret calls the studio again.
Rolling my eyes, I answer it. “What now?”
“I’m coming to the studio to pick you up.”
“What? Why?”
“We’re meeting.”
“What do you mean? Right now?”
“Yeah. He’s in town, and he’s shuffling things around.”
“I don’t understand. How come he’s meeting us so soon?” Silence on the other end of the phone. “Bret?”
“So, I might’ve told him you haven’t been in the studio for almost two weeks and don’t plan on going back.”
“What is wrong with you?” I scream at him. “Why would you tell him that?”
“It’s the truth, right? Besides, he wants you, Jade. You know that. If he thinks he’s gonna lose you, I bet that old man would give up his family.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I scan our studio. The guys aren’t as aware as before, and I dig my toe into the short carpet. I love being in the studio and creating music, but this entire thing with Bret is working my last nerves, even if I am in my usual comfort cocoon.
“Jade, we’ll meet up with him, and you’ll be done,” he continues. “I told you, all I want is that record deal. We can spin it any way you want as long as Skum Bucket gets the deal.”
“Fine, whatever.” I let out an annoyed sigh. “When will you be here?”
“I already am. Should I come in?”
“No!” I shout, earning a look from the guys. “No, I’ll be right down.”
Hanging up, the boys all stare at me. “Sorry, guys. I need to go take care of this.”
“I’m going with you,” Maddox says, getting up from his chair behind his drum kit.
“No. I have to do this by myself.” He stares at me, unsure. “It’ll be okay. I just want all of this to be over. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“If you need anything, call us,” Derrik says.
Nodding, I grab my phone and head out of the studio. Once I get to the parking garage, I find Bret sitting in his 1985 black El Camino, with vintage chipped paint job and cracked dashboard. It’s a car I’ve been in multiple times, and I know Bret loves because he said it gives him character. Him, not the car. And the only reason I know it’s 1985 is that Bret would always refer to it as a classic.
Shaking my head, I get in, buckle up, and look straight ahead.
“Thanks, Jade,” he says.
“Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”
He doesn’t say anything else, and we’re on our way. Surprisingly, I’m not nervous. I genuinely want to get this over and done with. I couldn’t care less about going back to Rich Records or being alone to create more music. Especially after the last couple of days recording with my boys. It’s actually inspired me to bring Derrik and EJ in and work on some other stuff for me.
Finally getting to our destination, I scan the parking lot Bret pulls into, seeing a fancy restaurant that a lot of celebrities visit. “Seriously?” I ask him. “Armando’s?”
“Yeah, he was having lunch or something and said he’ll give us a few minutes.”
“Whatever.” I shake my head and get out of the car, walking toward the entrance.
Bret hurries next to me, whispering, “Just let me handle this.”
