Page 103 of Before the Encore

Bonnie met her gaze, breathing a little heavily from the kiss. Her thoughts seemed to swirl in the depths of her irises—hesitation, fear and doubt. Then the biggest smile spread across her face, and the fire flared. “Fuck Jonjoe Bailey and his stupid fucking combover.”

God, I love it when she swears.

An hour later, Frank and Kam arrived at Madison’s apartment. Frank brought his own laptop and computer screen to set up on the kitchen island, while Kam brought the snacks.

“Okay.” Frank cracked his knuckles like a terrible TV cop. “Let’s see the contract.”

Bonnie and Frank looked through the documents, while Madison demolished Kam at Mario Kart. A few mugs of coffee and a few packs of Haribo later, they all gathered around the laptop, looking over the draft termination notice.

Madison grinned as she read:

I am terminating this agreement due to material breaches of your contract, including repeatedly making decisions regarding my creative direction, collaborations, and recordings without my approval, contrary to section 5 (c). Your actions have consistently prioritised your interests and commercial objectives over mine, in breach of your obligations under section 7 (a). I no longer have confidence in your ability to act in my best interests as my manager.

She slapped Frank on the back. “Who knew all that time watching Better Call Saul would come in handy?”

“Thanks.” He took a big gulp from his lukewarm coffee, then smoothed out his goatee. “We just need a lawyer to draw it up officially now. Roberto has already sent the contact for Malcolm Joy.”

The name made Madison grimace. “Can we use someone else?”

“He’s a great entertainment lawyer.” Frank twiddled his expensive pen around his fingers like he was a big shot detective. “He got you off charges, didn’t he?”

She scoffed. “Bit my head off, more like.”

Despite his name, Malcolm Joy had the personality of a paperclip, if the paperclip had lived its entire life in the dustiest, darkest drawer in the world’s most boring office. To say he didn’t appreciate Madison’s humour or playfulness would be an understatement. But she couldn’t deny his proficiency when it came to legal matters.

Bonnie tore her attention from the screen with amusement. “What did you do?”

“Nothing. This woman tried to sue us for defamation.” Madison shrugged. “She thought a song was about her.”

“It was about her,” Kam said, throwing up a squishy egg sweet and catching it in her mouth.

“That’s not the point. ‘Mary’ could be about any Mary, even Virgin Mary. Artist licence is my right as an artist.” Her lips curved upward, repeating the jargon Malcolm had told her last year. “The point was, she couldn’t prove it.” Madison turned to Bonnie. “So, what do you think?”

“If he can keep you out of trouble, it’s worth a shot.”

* * *

Malcolm Joy arrived five minutes early with two sharp knocks at Madison’s door. He was tall, with ram-rod posture and aristocratic bone structure, his thin mouth forever pursed in distaste. His designer short sleeves rolled neatly to reveal a Rolex glinting at his wrist. With a small nod, he strode down the hallway, his polished boots clacking until he paused at the entry.

Madison waved her hand. “You remember the gang, right, Malcolm?”

His gaze passed over the empty sweet wrappers, the video game still humming quietly on the TV. “Certainly.”

“And this is Bonnie.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” he said, although he looked anything but pleased. He inclined his head, then delicately brushed an empty packet to make way for his briefcase. Bonnie quickly tidied away the rubbish, making more space. “Let’s begin. Please divulge everything and anything.”

Madison hovered while Bonnie detailed her years with Bailey, her fingers curling at some of the details—signing her to deals without her permission, speaking to her like dirt, even taking Scarlett for his own assistant.

“What?” she balked. “Scarlett actually works for you?”

“Yes.” Bonnie followed the grain of the wood with her finger. “She’s supposed to be my assistant, but Bailey insisted that because he organised everything, she’d be better helping him and I just…went along with it.”

Madison shook her head, anger straightening her spine. “You better hope you sort this, Malcolm, or you’re gonna have an assault case on your hands too.”

They should have done this months ago. Hell, Bonnie should have done this years ago. Madison hated how much that prick had got away with.

Bonnie placed a hand to Madison’s chest, her big eyes holding hers.