“Dexter Price,” Laura said. “Yes, that’s who played the melody on all of the tracks for his album. He’s a wonderful up and coming saxophonist. I would’ve loved to have met him, but apparently he and Z—Bob Zachary is Bobby Z’s real name but he likes us to call him Z—had some kind of a falling out and there is some question whether Dexter is going to go his separate way.”
“What’s their beef?” Obie asked. “Is this about them slinging their salamis at each other?”
Laura blushed a little but nodded. “That’s the rumor,” she said. “Apparently they were romantically involved and Dexter wanted to be a little more exclusive than Z did. Some harsh words were exchanged and Dexter stormed out about two weeks before I started getting the calls to help with the overdubs.”
Obie was shaking his head. “Fuckin’ drama,” he said. “It just gets in the way of production, and those homos are teeming hotbeds of it. That’s why I love making country music so much. We got just as many homos as every other genre, of course, but at least they stay in the fuckin’ closet since your average country fan don’t go for that kinda shit. That keeps the fudge-packing drama down to the minimum so we only have to deal openly with the hetero drama.”
“An interesting point of view,” Jake said thoughtfully.
Another shrug by Obie. “Just reality, boy. Just reality. And speaking of drama, I hear you’ve been getting’ together with that rapper guy, Bigg C.”
“Bigg G,” Jake corrected. “Where’d you hear that?”
“Pauline mentioned it to me in one of our meetings,” he said dismissively. “What’s up with that shit?”
“Gordon—that’s G’s real name—is a friend,” Jake said. “I met him through Nerdly back when Nerdly was helping him mix one of his albums before he went independent.”
“I never did care for that ghetto music,” Obie said. “I hesitate to even call it music. It’s just a bunch of thumping and pounding and some nigger shouting out a bunch of obscenities about bitches and hoes and the po-lice and shit.”
“It’s not all like that,” Jake said. “Like with any genre, there are some artists and musicians who rise above the stereotyping. Gordon is hardly what I would call a nigger, in the strict privileged white person interpretation of the word. True, he was raised in the ghetto, but he’s educated and he’s a professional musician with considerable talent, as well as a fairly shrewd businessman in his own right. I actually think you would like him if you met him, Obie. He’s kind of like a younger, blacker version of you.”
“Yeah?” Obie said, not quite sure how to take that.
“Yeah,” Jake said. “Anyway, he’s smart enough to realize that straight rap music is in a death spiral...”
“About fucking time,” Obie opined.
“Perhaps ... anyway, Gordon is going a little experimental on his next album. We’re working on a cut where I play the acoustic guitar as the primary melody. It’s actually coming along pretty well. I like it a lot.”
“A mixture of rap and acoustic guitar, huh?” Obie said. “I can’t even begin to imagine what that will sound like.”
“I gotta go pee,” Laura suddenly announced.
“Then you should,” Jake told her. “You know where it’s at?”
“I do,” she confirmed. “Be back in a few.”
“Okay,” Jake said, returning the kiss she planted on his lips. She then wandered off, her gait not entirely steady, spilling a little of her wine as she made her way through the door.
Obie watched her go, his eyes unabashedly taking in the appealing form of her derriere in her jeans. When she was gone, he turned to Jake and patted him on the shoulder again. “That’s quite a woman you got there, Jake. She’s pretty, she’s smart, and I’m guessing she knows how to blow the old horn pretty well, eh?”
“Uh ... she can put on quite a performance when she’s in the mood for it,” Jake allowed.
“Yeah,” Obie said wistfully. “There’s nothing like having yourself a good woman in your life. Hang onto her.”
“I plan to,” Jake said. “Besides, we’ll probably need her sax skills on our next albums.”
“If someone else don’t snatch her up first,” Obie said.
“I just need to keep her away from dentists,” Jake said.
“How’s that?”
Jake chuckled. “Never mind,” he said. “How are things going with your new album? Are you going to give us back the Nerdlys soon?”
“We’re almost done with the overdubs and ready to start mixing,” Obie said.
“That’s when the Nerdlys truly shine,” Jake said, “although the tedium level and general annoyance level with them notches up pretty intensely in that phase.”
“Yeah ... I saw what y’all went through when you got there.” He shrugged. “We’ll get by. And I’m really looking forward to getting my stuff on the air. I picked up some young guitar players and I’m experimenting with throwing in some distorted electric in addition to the slide—kind of bringing a hint of rock and roll to country.”
“You think that’ll appeal?” Jake asked. “Or are they going to start calling you a sellout as well?”
“Time will tell,” Obie said. “Time will fuckin’ tell.” He looked over at the door for a moment and saw there was no sign of Laura reemerging. He then turned back to Jake. “Listen, there’s something I kind of wanted to talk to you about.”
“What’s that?” Jake asked.
“It has to do with ... with Pauline.”
“Yeah?” Jake asked. “What about her?”
“I’m not one for mincing words and I’m not one for keeping secrets from people, so I’m just going to come out and tell you. She and I are doing the nasty with each other.”
Jake looked at him for a moment, searching for signs in his face that this was a joke. He saw none. “Doing the nasty, huh?”
“That’s right.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“The first time was up in Oregon, right after we got done negotiating and signing your contract with me. We’ve been getting together whenever we can ever since.”
“I see,” Jake said slowly. “So ... almost eight months now?”
“About that,” Obie agreed.
“Interesting,” he said. “I had no clue. That’s usually the sort of thing I’d pick up on.”
“We were discrete,” Obie said.
“That explains why you come to LA every weekend.”
“That explains it.”
“Why were you keeping it secret?” Jake asked him.
“Well ... at first it was just kind of instinct, particularly since she and I have a business relationship. We didn’t want anyone thinking there was any funny business going on with the financials and conflict of interest and all that shit. There isn’t, you know. Both of us can separate personal relationships from business relationships.”
Jake nodded. “I believe you,” he said. “Besides, Jill would’ve caught any funny business if anyone was trying to pull some.”
“Those japs are shrewd, that’s for damn sure,” Obie said. “Anyway, after we started being discrete, it just got to be a habit. In truth, the sneaking around kind of added something to the relationship. You should try it sometime.”
“I’ve done my share of sneaking around,” Jake assured him. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because you need to know,” Obie said. “Celia and Greg need to know as well. So do the Nerdlys. We’re all getting deeper and deeper into this whole CD release deal and we’re spending more time with each other and things are starting to come to a head. I don’t think it’s healthy for a group of people such as we are, involved in the sort of business that we are, to have a secret of that magnitude floating around. Y’all would’ve found out eventually and, if we hadn’t told you about it first, that would have opened up some mistrust between me and you, between you and Pauline, between me and Pauline maybe. It’s time to let the cat out of the bag.”