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“Can you tell us why we’re looking at an empty building?” Aaron asks me, the most perplexed of all since I flew him from Los Angeles to stare at this building.
“I want us to buy it.”
My statement earns me an incredulous look from everyone.
I turn to them and continue my explanation. “Jail Records is growing fast. We have twenty-two artists under contract, and it’s unthinkable to record them taking turns in the two small recording studios. We have to consider that we need more space if we want to expand the business and compete with the big labels. This building is perfect.”
Aaron crosses his arms and studies me with the shadow of a smile on his face. “Why this and not one in the neighborhood where all your competitors are?”
“Because we are not our competitors. We are a record company and don’t need a high-visibility shop window to attract clients. Artists can find the address on our website. But what we have around here is what our competitors don’t have: clubs, bars, people who come here to have fun. There’s life here. We can use this location to bring music directly to where people live. It’s the reason why this place is important: here, people really listen to music. Step inside any of the places around here, and you’ll hear a different vibe, a different sound in each one.”
My brother smiles smugly but lets me continue.
“And another advantage: the businesses on the ground floor are already thriving, we can set up our headquarter on the other twelve floors. They’ll pay the rent, helping us with more income, especially since we’ll have to renovate the whole building to accommodate our needs. Especially at the beginning, it will help to have that extra income.”
They look at me halfway between surprised and smug, but I can’t read them until a smile appears on their faces.
“Do you have the investment numbers all worked out, too? Apparently, you’ve already done your homework,” Damian asks with some enthusiasm in his voice.
The smile I feel coming on is sincere, and I can’t hold it back. I open my messenger bag and grab the copies of the document that Emily helped me meticulously label with different colors and hand out a copy to each of them.
“These are three different scenarios I’ve considered, figuring in the sale price and the initial investment, plus the money we would each pay out of pocket. The building has been on the market for a while, so we’ll probably be able to negotiate on the price, but that’s not in the document. I considered the worst-case scenario.”
Thomas looks at me, amazed, smiling. “I don’t know what else you’ve got planned today, but I’d like to talk this over. I like the idea of a bigger place to record rather than having a constant flow of people in and out of my house. We can always record our own albums in our basement, and have everyone else go to a better equipped studio.”
“I agree. Can we find somewhere to sit and discuss it?” Simon proposes.
“How about trying out one of our investments?” Aaron asks, pointing to one of the places that serve food in this neighborhood.
Walking there, I feel my heart swell with satisfaction and pride. All my doubts subside, and the tense knots in my stomach give way to a pleasant excitement I haven’t felt in a long time.
I’ve always dreamed of building an empire like my father’s to prove to him that I’m not a failure, and that, like my brother, I know how to be successful. What I didn’t realize, though, is that it’s not success I care about so much as it is seeing my dreams come true. The satisfaction of fulfilling my dream and seeing it materialize in front of my eyes is something I’ve never fully savored; I was too focused on proving to my father that I could do it. The fact that it’s a run-down brown brick building and not an ultra-modern high-rise doesn’t matter. I’m living my dreams, and I’m doing it with the people who matter most in my life. My brother, for better or worse, helped shape that part of my character that allowed me to get here. I’m glad he’s beside me in this step.
The sound of waves crashing lazily on the white sand lulls me nearly to sleep. The scent of sunscreen and fruity cocktails fills my nostrils. Evan’s warm fingers slowly stroking my belly give me pleasant chills down my back. The only stain on this heavenly moment is the phone buzzing for the third time with a text.
“I know we decided to only look at our phones for half an hour in the evening, but are you sure you don’t want to take a look? It could be something urgent, given the insistence.” Evan looks at me with an open eye, his hand protecting him from the sun. With his swimsuit and messy hair from the salt and sea breeze, he’s a vision that takes my breath away.
“If it were something urgent, Iris would have called me.”
I barely have time to finish the sentence when the fourth text interrupts me with a buzz, immediately followed by a fifth. I inhale deeply to calm the nervousness that this interruption causes me. Evan chuckles beside me.
“Okay, I’ll just look at the messages and then put it away,” I murmur between my teeth.
As soon as I grab the phone, the news I never wanted to see in the media faces me, followed by two messages from Greta, my assistant, and two from Emma’s mother. I turn to Evan, who studies me with curiosity.
“Do you want to know what it is?” I can see he’s dying to know.
“Please,” he begs with a huge smile.
“Luke and Emma are on the front page of every gossip magazine in the country—they were caught kissing passionately,” I admit with a grimace.
Evan’s belly laugh makes me smile. “You knew it was just a matter of time.”
“Yes, but I was hoping to not have to deal with it for many, many months. Years even,” I admit with a sigh.
Evan is about to get up when I grab his arm. “Where are you going?”
“To grab the computer so you can handle this emergency.” He throws me a half-guilty smile.
