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“So you listened to what he sent?” Nash asks.
Is he serious?
I grab another chair to join them in front of the monitors. “Of course. Why do you think we’re here?”
“To show you what he sent,” Nash says.
Now I’m the one gaping in disbelief.
“You actually think I wouldn’t listen the second you sent the link?” I say through a laugh. Heck, I didn’t even read the entire text before opening the folder to see what they’d done with my music.
“So you… liked it?” Val asks.
Hang on. Do they really not know what this meeting is? What exactly did Steve tell them when he set it up?
“Liked it?” I nudge the chair beside me in a subtle invitation to my (hopefully) soon-to-be producer.
After scooping my composition book off the desk, I turn to the first page where I scribbled my thoughts on “Too Many Reasons.”
“These are my notes,” I say. “You’re here to review them and start making final decisions so we can get these tracks mastered and released.”
The next page in my notebook has me even more excited. “Oh, and I loved your idea of adding a rock element to ‘Crimson Crush.’ We are totally doing that. The label freaked when I told them we’re using a new producer and mixing some things up for this album, but screw them.”
I laugh at the memory of Rena’s and the team’s faces when I informed them Rufus Ricard would be free to work with another artist since I’d be going in a different direction.
“You told your label about him?” Nash asks.
Why is that so newsworthy? Nash knows how this game works.
“Um. Duh. They kind of have to know I’m using someone else from now on. Contracts and rights and all that?”
What’s with all the hesitation, anyway? To be honest, my excitement is starting to slip. I was so sure about this partnership that I stood up to my label for maybe the first time in my career. It was one of the hardest things I’ve done, and now these two are acting like they’re not sure they want this? I force away a twinge at the blow to my enthusiasm—and hope.
“Okay, so let’s start with what you did for… you know what? Let’s start with ‘Crimson Crush.’ Let me just pull that up.”
Maybe if we jump right into my favorite of the tracks, we can pump life back into this potential collaboration.
The silence is loud as I open a window to find the song, my pulse pounding with nerves. I just don’t get it. Everything in Val’s demeanor and what he’s done with my music made it seem like we were on the same page. Without even meeting him, I felt like he understood me better than I understand myself because of the way he was able to pull genius out of my ideas. And now he’s just standing there like…
Like we never talked about officially working together. Of course!
“Oh, shoot!” I say, relieved and kicking myself as I turn to Val. “We didn’t talk about the money part! No wonder you’re confused. So I’m not sure what you usually get, but I was hoping you’d be okay with ten per track.”
“Ten?” he asks. “Per track?”
Is he disappointed? His work definitely deserves more, but I already have an uphill battle convincing the powers that be to take a chance on this guy—especially after what happened a couple years ago.
“I know that’s not ideal,” I rush out. “But I think we have the best chance of convincing the label to get on board if we go in low to start. After this album, they should be fine bumping it up to fifteen or twenty, especially if it does well, which I know it will. Please say you’re okay with that. Pleeeease.”
Still no response. Crap, crap, crap.
A bead of panic pulses in my stomach. What if he walks? How could I be so naïve not to have considered that possibility? I just assumed… gah! If he goes, so does the incredible future of my music I’ve already been fantasizing about.
This is what happens when you go rogue and try to make your own choices!
“Can he get any of that up front?” Nash asks. “Say, thirty-five?”
Wait, there’s still a chance?!
