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“I didn’t lie,” he counters. “I was going to tell you.”
“Hernandez! You told me your last name was Hernandez!”
His dad looks over at him. “Why would you use your mother’s name?”
A low growl of frustration floats out of Austin, eyeing his dad for a moment before looking back at me. “I promise I was gonna tell you.”
“When? When you were kissing me? When you were pretending to love music as much as me?”
“I wasn’t pretending.”
“I can’t believe this. I trusted you. What? Were you only getting close to me so I’d sign a solo deal with Rich Records?”
“No!” Austin shouts.
“What the hell are you two talking about?” Bret asks.
“Jade, please. I can explain all of this, but—”
“No!” I slam my hands on the table, shifting my glare toward Jimmy.
The glasses on the table rattle, and through the side of my vision I can see a few patrons turning to see what the commotion is. But I don’t care. I only want to get out of the place as fast as possible.
“I’m done,” I tell them again. “I’m done with liars, and shady corporate assholes, and no-good scumbags, caring only about their own personal gain. Do you hear me, Richards? Done.”
Lifting his brows, he interlocks his fingers over the table. “I was hoping we might agree on some sort of deal, but if that’s what you want, very well.”
“I want the masters to all of my demo records sent to my manager. You’ve got one week.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Jade.”
My jaw clenches. My eyes shoot over to Bret, who shrugs, then Austin, who isn’t even looking at me. He closes his eyes, shaking his head.
“Look, I’m not your run-of-the-mill singer. I know what’s possible, Jimmy. Send me my masters this week. Any later and I sue Rich Records.”
“No. You won’t.”
My jaw drops. The audacity of this guy. “Excuse me?”
He smiles that snake-like grin, and I don’t know what he’s going to say, but I’m sure it won’t be good. “You won’t because you can’t.”
My face burns with anger. “What, you think I can’t afford it? Did you suddenly forget who I am?”
“I know exactly who you are, Jade. Which is why if you want to calmly sit down and talk about this, I still think you could be the staple of Rich Records for the next twenty years. But if you don’t, that’s fine, too. I wish you and your band well. But your masters?” Another smile. “Those belong to Rich Records.”
“Like hell they do. Those are mine. That’s my music. My words!”
“And you’ll get all the credit for them that’s due if and when we decide to release them.”
“You can’t release them. I told you—”
“I know what you told me. And I respect that drive and determination from an artist such as yourself. But I also know what you signed. You should’ve read over your contract a little better.”
The anger and hate and embarrassment I was just feeling vanish. All that remains is an empty void. I stare down at Bret, who stays seated, never looking back up at me. Jimmy continues his predatory smile. Glancing at Austin, he finally looks at me, his face awash with guilt and sympathy.
“You bastard,” I whisper to him. “Was this your plan?”
“No!” He finally comes over, grabbing my arm.
