No announcement of any kind was made that Jake Kingsley would be a special guest at the Portland show. Word of mouth and media reports had already spread that he had been present at the first LA show, however. It was also known that he had not been present at the second LA show, or at the show in San Jose.
The audience was surprised and delighted when Jake walked on stage to perform I Signed That Line. And they gave him a standing ovation as he left the stage following Step Inside. They absolutely roared with approval when he and James faced off to perform Ocean View. It seemed having him appear was a good thing.
They stayed the night in the same Portland hotel where G and the band stayed. The Nerdlys and Celia all got outrageously drunk at the band party in Rickie’s room. Jake drank tea and soda only and watched in nostalgic jealousy at the drunken antics of a traveling band.
The next morning, at 8:00 AM, Jake flew his load of hungover passengers back to Coos Bay. He drove back to the house with them and, while Sharon reacquainted herself with their little bundle of joy, and Nerdly and Celia headed to the studio to get some work done on the mastering, Jake and Laura retired to the bedroom for a little fuck followed by a little nap.
Four hours later, Jake was back in his plane, alone this time, lifting off for the flight to Boeing Field in Seattle.
He checked into the hotel there and then spent two nights hanging out with G and the boys. He performed during both shows in Seattle. By now, G’s road manager was reporting, the word had spread that Jake Kingsley just might show up and perform at upcoming Bigg G performances and, if he did, it was one hell of a show. Ticket sales at the upcoming venues—the more expensive ones—began to pick up as well, the demographic reports showing that a large number of Caucasians were laying down the funds to score seats. G’s publicist, in response to multiple enquiries from all manner of media outlets, was forced to release a statement on Jake’s appearances. It was deliberately worded to be ambiguous and noncommittal.
“Mr. Kingsley was gracious enough to make himself available for one of the shows in Los Angeles, the show in Portland, and both shows in Seattle,” she said. “He has let us know that he might be available for other dates during the tour as well. Unfortunately, he is busy with the recording of his latest CD and is unable to commit in advance to any specific dates. There is no way for us to know in advance when Jake will be able to play at any particular date.”
But, as Gordon had predicted, just the merest possibility that Jake might be there drove the ticket sales. All dates now sold out quickly, at the inflated prices as soon as the tickets were released for sale.
Alas, there were no more shows featuring Jake Kingsley in the month of September. After returning from Seattle, he and the Nerdlys and Laura and Celia fell back into the grinding routine of mastering the two KVA releases they had been working on. Finally, on October 3, the day that a jury in Los Angeles decided that Orenthal James Simpson was not guilty of murdering his ex-wife and her lover, Celia and Jake walked out of Blake Studios with copies of their final master CDs in hand.
Celia’s CD was titled Two Too Much. The plan was to release the catchy (and sad) tune It Never Happened as the first to be promoted. Jake’s CD was titled A Drop in the Bucket. He planned to release the ballad Teach Me, a love song he had written for Laura, as his first to be promoted and then follow it up with the hard-driving No More Chains.
They left the Coos Bay house in the hands of a real estate management company, who would keep the place clean and maintained until the next time it was needed. The van they used to transport everyone from place to place was put into an auto storage facility near the North Bend Airport. Several members of the studio crew were enlisted to drive Jake’s Beemer and Celia’s Mercedes back to southern California for them. The Nerdlys then contracted for a private plane to take they and their little bundle back to Los Angeles. Celia, Jake, and Laura stayed one more night and then were given a ride to North Bend Municipal by Obie, who would remain behind in his Coos Bay home for another week or so. Jake, Laura, Celia, Pauline, and Tabby then loaded up into Jake’s plane for the flight back home. They flew non-stop to Oceano (everyone remembered to pee before boarding and no urinals were required) and landed just before three o’clock in the afternoon.
Elsa was excited to have, not just Jake and Laura home, but an actual dinner party of sorts to plan and carry off. It seemed she had been a bit bored during their absence. She went all out, preparing cedar plank dill salmon, fresh artichokes, homemade rice pilaf, and, for dessert, a crème brulee. Everyone ate and drank and made merry.
After dinner, after Tabby was tucked into a crib in the large guest suite, the four of them took a bottle of Napa Valley Merlot out to the hot tub on the cliffside deck to watch the early Autumn sun go down.
“You know,” Jake said as the three women shrugged off their robes, revealing two bikinis (Celia and Pauline) and a conservative one-piece (Laura), “we generally don’t wear swimwear in the hot tub. The laundry soap and fabric softener residue play hell on the water quality.”
“Nice try, Jake,” Celia said with a laugh.
“I’m your sister, Jake,” Pauline said, shaking her head. “That’s gross.”
“Besides, you’ve seen her boobs often enough when she was feeding Tabby,” Laura added.
“But he hasn’t seen Celia’s,” Pauline chuckled. Laura joined in. Neither noticed the uncomfortable glance that Jake and Celia shot at each other.
“Well...” Jake said simply, “you’re all going to have to answer to the pool guy that Elsa hired to maintain this thing. I just want you to know that.”
He shucked his own robe, revealing his bare chest and a pair of baggy black swimming trunks. He poured himself a healthy glass of wine and then climbed into the one-hundred-degree water. The ladies followed him in, all of them taking up positions where they could view the sunset.
“To the masters!” Celia toasted, raising her glass to the sky.
“The masters!” everyone chimed. They touched everyone’s glass against everyone else’s and then drank.
“What’s the next step?” asked Laura.
“I’ve already mailed copies of both masters to the big four,” Pauline said. “They should be getting them in the next few days. They know the drill by now. They submit their bids for MD&P to us within one week.”
“Only this time, we’re not contractually obligated to go with Aristocrat as long as they match the low bid,” Celia said. “And the other three of the big four know that.”
“That’s right,” Jake said, smiling. “And the success of Brainwash will need to be factored into the equation as well. Whoever gets the KVA contract for C and I will also get first crack at the next Brainwash CD. And this time, they’re not an unknown, assumed to be negative, quality.”
“They’re a goldmine,” Celia said. “And those putas know it. What kind of percentages do you think we’re going to see, Paulie?”
“I’m guessing we’ll be looking at bids of twenty to twenty-five percent royalty rate,” she said with a predatory smile. “And I’m going to suggest we set a hard ceiling at twenty-five percent.”
“And what about the Brainwash CD?” asked Celia. “I know we’re still a bit out from that, but we should start thinking about it.”