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He bobs his head with a devilish smirk. “There’s no going back now, Mara. We started this, and we’re going to finish it.”
Oh my God.
“Did you… What…” I lower my head into my hands and take a few deep breaths. “What did you do?”
He shrugs.
Grabbing his forearms, I shake him. “Tell me what you…” I shake my head. “Ya know what? Never mind.”
I step around him to leave the closet, and peek into the hall before exiting. Marching toward Tim’s office, my mind races. I have to get the record label to agree to contracts without this whole duet business, otherwise, things are going to happen that can’t be stopped. This freight train I helped put into motion will crash and burn because I didn’t pump the brakes.
“You can’t go in there,” Tim’s receptionist calls as I storm past her and push open his office door.
Tim is talking to Ross, but when I enter, they both jump to their feet like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
“Mara, what are you doing?” Tim asks, his expression quizzical.
“We need to talk,” I blurt.
“Has everyone come to a decision about the contracts?” Ross asks, his tone hopeful.
I shake my head. “No, no, um…” Now that I’m here, my confidence wanes. “I came to discuss my contract.”
Ross arches a brow. “Is there something in it that’s not to your satisfaction?”
Nervous energy plagues me, and I fidget with my hands. “No… yes… I don’t…”
I sink into a chair next to Tim’s desk and after exchanging a look, they sit as well. Neither of them talks, but they do stare. As if I’m a bomb that could detonate at any second, they watch as my thoughts spiral.
“I don’t know if you’re aware,” I begin, with no clear idea how I’m going to convince them to give me what I want. “But Apple isn’t exactly thrilled with being required to do a duet album.”
“Did Apple send you here?” Tim asks.
“No, uh…” I blow out a breath, and my shoulders sag. “I came on my own because… well, I’m not crazy about it either.”
“You’re not?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’ll do whatever I have to do,” I rush to explain. “But I’d prefer not to have my success ride on someone else’s back.”
“I see,” Ross says calmly. “So, you don’t want to sign with TL Records?”
“I do. But I’d like to negotiate.” I glance from one man to the next. “Is there any way you’d consider taking out the Songwriter Split Clause? On just my contract,” I hurry to clarify. “I, um… I don’t care what you do with the others, but I want a contract that hinges on me and me alone.”
“Mara, honey,” Tim starts. “You’ve got talent, no question. But…”
My spine stiffens. “But what?”
Tim shifts his eyes to Ross, and I follow his gaze only to see Ross give an almost imperceptible nod.
“Mara, there’s no easy way to say this,” Tim continues. “But without the duets, you won’t be signed at all. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth. You’re talented, sure, but without Sydney, Apple, and Kyle… well, you’re…” He shrugs, and if he weren’t wearing an expression as fake as the Prada bag I bought on the streets of New York City, I’d believe his false sincerity. “Mediocre at best,” he finishes.
“Mediocre?”
“That’s not a bad thing,” Ross adds. “There are plenty of mediocre artists who find their way in this world, and you can too. But it won’t be with TL Records.”
“Would you signanyof us without the duets?” I ask.
Again, they exchange a look, but when they both return their attention to me, I have my answer.
