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“Almost four technically, full-time. I started as a summer intern back in college.”
“Ah, that’s right,” Carl says, although I’d bet the paltry sum in my savings account that he had no idea of my employment history up until right now. “And you’ve been happy, working here?”
I shift awkwardly in my seat. Clear my throat. Wonder if someone submitted a complaint to HR and used my name as a joke.
“Yes?” It comes out sounding like a question, but Carl doesn’t seem to notice.
He’s focused on something past me, and I resist the urge to turn around and look too.
Eventually, he sighs and refocuses on me. “We have an artist refusing to sign a new contract.”
Only my rapid blinks betray my surprise.
As a general rule, music is an industry people struggle to get into, not one they choose to walk away from after making the cut.
“Letting him leave isn’t an option.” Carl leans forward, his expression shockingly earnest. I’m used to seeing him professional and detached, not desperate. “He’s made this label more money than most of our artists combined.”
I suppress a sigh.
Of courseit comes down to money. Many days, it feels like I’m the only employee who cares more about the music being released than the revenue coming in. Carl is a businessman, and the business he’s in just happens to be music.
I get how the world works. I just wish it worked differently.
And while I’m no lawyer, I’ve sat in enough contract meetings to know this isn’t a common situation. “Canhe leave?”
Carl’s exhale is annoyed, giving the answer away before he speaks. “Yes. His contract is out of option periods, and he’s delivered on albums. We were supposed to start negotiations a couple of months ago, and his team put us off. He was on tour, so no one in legal thought anything of it.” Irritation flashes across his face, and I wonder if anyone was fired for that oversight. “As of two days ago, he’s under no obligation to this label.”
“He’s looking elsewhere?” I still have no idea why I’m here or who we’re discussing, so I’m not sure what else to say.
Empire Records is considered one of the biggest and most successful labels in the country, but there are other prominent ones, and it’s not unheard of for artists to move around.
“He’s a once-in-a-generation talent,” Carl replies. “Losing Kyle Spencer isn’t an option.”
There’s no mistaking the note of panic in his voice. And it thoroughly annoys me as I think about the thousands of musicians in this city, praying for a big break.
Kyle Spencer had his shot. A decade’s worth of them.
If he wants to step aside, I’ll happily organize a retirement party.
There’s a sudden sinking awareness in my stomach, like the swooping sensation of an elevator descending, as I realize whatever reason I’m here, it involves Kyle Spencer.
Based on the determination on Carl’s face, he won’t budge on letting Kyle leave.
Which means…
“I need you to go to Texas and change his mind.”
My expression is too shocked to shift. I’m frozen, certain I misheard him.
“I know it’s an unorthodox request. You’ll be compensated generously in addition to all travel and accommodations being paid for.”
I still don’t move. Still say nothing.
“You’ve been part of Kyle’s team here for the past few years. No one else is available to pick up and leave on such short notice.”
I swallow, but that’s the most motion I manage. I’m a nobody here, is what he’s really saying. A glorified assistant, jumping in wherever and whenever I’m needed.
There’s a glimmer of emotion on Carl’s face as he leans back in his chair, but it’s gone before I can tell if it’s amusement or annoyance or something else entirely.
