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“I wasn’t planning to make money,” Hale said.
“Isn’t that your whole job when you work for a venture capital firm?” Neal asked. “Making money?”
“I didn’t use their money,” Hale said. “I used mine.”
“Youwhat?” Stone was as surprised as the rest of us. “You backed us yourself?”
“Mr. Hale,” Angie said, jumping back in. “Will. Hopefully you’re happy with how it turned out. From everything I’ve heard, it was a successful tour.”
“Great,” Hale said. “Want to go again?”
“Fuck, no,” Denver said, speaking for all of us.
“Okay, look.” Hale leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. He seemed deep in thought. “I get it. The whole man-of-mystery thing probably seemed like a bit much to you. I just like my privacy, that’s all. I wanted to see you guys tour. I’m not good with social stuff. I tend to piss people off. Most of my business associates find that the less I’m personally involved, the smoother everything goes.”
We all stared at him. “Wait a minute,” I said. “You’re a fan?”
Hale looked at me like I was crazy. “Of course I’m a fan. I went to every show I could fit into my schedule. You think I financed your tour because Idon’tlike your music?”
I glanced at the others, then said, “We thought you financed it because you wanted to make money.”
Hale shrugged. “I made a little money, not much. Mostly from the shows at the Garden. But I didn’t do much more than recoup my costs. It was worth every penny.”
There was another second of shocked silence, and then Denver laughed. The sound made the tension crack into pieces. “Holy shit, Callie had it right,” he said. “She told me you were doing it because you have good taste in music, and I told her she was crazy. We thought you were in the mafia, man.”
Hale sat back, shocked. “In themafia?”
“Laundering money,” Neal explained. “I think that was Stone’s theory. He thought we’d end up at the bottom of the Hudson.”
“It’s a good theory,” Stone insisted. “We don’t know he’snotmafia.”
“I’m not in the mafia,” Hale said.
“No, you just like a band that called it quits five years ago,” I said. “Youreallylike them.” This guy wasn’t some sinister asshole, he was just a nerd. This was the weirdest meeting I’d ever been in.
“If you’re not in the mafia, then how did you get the stupid weed conviction wiped off my record?” Stone asked.
“That conviction was bullshit.” Hale sounded incensed. “What’s the point of being rich if you can’t pay expensive lawyers to get rid of stupid shit like that?”
Angie raised her hand. “Hello,” she said to the men in the room. “Remember me?”
“Sorry, Angie,” I said.
“Okay. We’ve established a few important things. The band had a great tour, and you made your costs back. Now that we’ve all met each other and are sitting down, let’s talk about the future.”
Hale’s expression went blank, then quietly excited. “The future?” He looked at us. “You’re talking about an album? Please say you are. Because I’m in.”
“That’s great,” Angie said before any of us could speak. “We love the enthusiasm, but with respect, we’d have to talk about terms before we agree to anything.”
“We’re not just talking about an album,” Neal said. Angie was going to kill us, I swear. Which was funny, because in Road Kings terms, we were actually being tame. “We’re talking about a lot more than that.”
Hale’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm, but he struggled to keep his cool. “I’m listening.”
“Boys,” Angie said, “if you don’t behave, I’m sending you out of this room.”
“It’s exciting, is all,” I said.
“We just don’t want to get fucked over,” Denver added. “Fucking the musicians over is kind of how the entire music business functions.”
