“Exactly,” Crawford added. “We don’t need to listen to it to know that this could not be an advantageous deal for us.”
Jake looked at his sister, seeing that she was looking back at him. He gave her a little smile and a little nod of the head. It was time to play their trump card.
“An advantageous deal,” Pauline said slowly. “That’s an interesting term, Crawford. Would you say that the contract you’ve enjoyed with KVA Records for the promotion of Jake and Celia’s second solo albums has been an advantageous deal?”
“Yes, it has,” Crawford said. “Nobody is disputing that. But again, you were already established artists when we signed you. We knew you would make money for us.”
“Uh huh,” Pauline said. “And do you know that if we signed with you for Jake and Celia’s third albums, that that would be advantageous as well?”
“We have no reason to believe otherwise,” Crawford said. “Provided both Jake and Celia stick with the formula that has made them successful to this point.”
“There is no fucking formula,” Jake said with a shake of the head. “We just make music.”
Before any of the suits could respond to that, Pauline steered them back on course. “As was said earlier,” she said, “that is neither here nor there. My point is that KVA signed with Aristocrat only for those two albums. We are under no obligation to sign with you for any further albums.”
“What do you mean?” asked Crawford. “I thought we had a good working relationship with each other.”
“We had an acceptable business relationship with you,” Pauline corrected. “There are other labels who would be happy to sign Jake and Celia for their next albums. And I’m sure that any or all of them would be happy to promote Brainwash for us as a condition of that deal.”
“What are you saying?” Crawford asked. “Are you suggesting you would refuse to sign with us, even if we offered the lowest royalty rate, if this group of yours is not promoted?”
“That is exactly what we’re saying,” Pauline said. “From this point forward, KVA Records will not do business with any corporate label if that label does not agree to promote Brainwash to the best of their ability, using all means at their disposal.”
“That’s blackmail!” Rigger protested.
“No,” Jake said, “it’s business. You only call it blackmail because you’re not on the winning side of it.”
“Well, you can just forget it!” Flag said. “We do not give into threats!”
“Now wait a minute,” Crawford said, holding up a hand. “Let’s talk about this for a minute.”
“Miles!” Flag said. “There is nothing to talk about! We do not do business this way!”
“Then you do not do business with us,” Pauline said with a smile. “Shall we conclude the meeting, gentlemen?”
“Yes!” said Flag.
“Not just yet,” said Crawford. His two comrades fumed at him, but kept their mouths closed for the moment. He turned back to Pauline. “What guarantee would we have that KVA would sign with us for the next Celia Valdez and Jake Kingsley albums if we did agree to go through with this promotion?”
“We would give you a deal similar to what we gave you for releasing Coop from his contract,” she said. “There will be a competitive bid for terms of the next albums by Jake and Celia. You will have the right to match the lowest bid and be awarded that contract as long as all other things remain equal—and that would include the obligation to promote Brainwash on any further albums.”
“Although, in honesty,” Jake said, “I’m pretty sure you’re going to be falling all over yourselves to promote Brainwash after you see what their first album does. They’re a treasure trove, guys. I’m not bullshitting you about that.”
“Hmmph,” Rigger said in disgust, shaking his head.
“We should reject this ridiculous proposal on general principles, Miles,” Flag said.
“Do that,” Jake said, “and you and your stockholders will be missing out on an assload of future revenue. Even if Brainwash tanks, you’ll never again be allowed to bid for a Jake Kingsley or Celia Valdez contract. Never. Not even if you offered us five percent and to pay for all production costs. We would shun you in perpetuity on our general principles.”
“They’re bluffing,” Rigger said confidently.
“We do not bluff,” Pauline said.
Crawford looked at them thoughtfully for a moment and then said: “You’re offering forty percent royalties for these Brain people, huh?”
“Brainwash,” Pauline said. “And yes. Forty percent.”
“Well ... that is a good amount for an unknown band,” Crawford said.
“I would go so far as to say it’s more than fair,” Jake said.
Crawford nodded. “Maybe we’ll at least take a listen to their CD.”
Laura was more than a little nervous as the dinner hour approached. In the kitchen, Elsa was preparing a feast of chicken enchiladas, homemade Spanish rice, and homemade refried beans. The smells of the cooking were incredible. Jake was setting up the bar to make margaritas for their alcoholic enjoyment. And Laura sat on the couch, wondering how things were going to go when Neesh and Gordon got here.
She had not seen or spoken to Neesh since that fabled night in Malibu when the dark-skinned beauty almost seduced her out on the dark beach. Though her injuries had healed from her encounter with the sea lion—mostly anyway, her toenails were still in the process of growing back and one of her toes now had a little jig where one had not existed before—her memories of the encounter were still quite fresh, quite vivid, quite erotic, and mixed with a large dash of guilt. She had still told no one about what had happened between her and Neesh. She wondered if Neesh had kept quiet as well.
There is no way she would have told Gordon about what we did, Laura told herself. Is there?
She didn’t think so, not after all her talk about “girl time” and “a little fun between the ladies”. While it was true that she and Neesh had been quite drunk at the time, it seemed obvious that Gordon’s fiancé did not have a lot of compunction about engaging in a little lesbian fun when the opportunity presented itself. Laura was quite certain that she was not the first woman Neesh had dallied with. But she had gotten the strong impression that Neesh kept this part of her life a secret from Gordon. It would be extremely unlikely she would have told him about it.
Just like you didn’t tell Jake about it, she thought.
“That’s not the same thing,” she said, and then winced as she realized that she had spoken aloud, and to herself.
She took a deep breath and then slowly let it out. Will she bring up what happened between us? she wondered. Not in front of Jake, of course, but when we’re alone? And if she does, what will I do? What will I say?
Here, she was torn in two directions. Her head, the part she did most of her thinking with, told her that she needed to take Neesh aside at some point, talk to her plainly and matter-of-factly and tell her that what happened between them that night had been a drunken mistake, that she regretted it now, and that nothing like that would ever happen again. But her loins ... they were saying something else entirely.
Remember what those boobs felt like in your hand, in your mouth? her loins asked greedily. Remember the taste of that nipple on your tongue, the feel of those soft, sexy lips kissing their way down your body, heading for the Gates of Heaven? Do you think maybe she’d be up for a little something like that again?
“Jesus, get yourself under control, girl,” she told herself, this time not realizing she’d spoken aloud.
By the time five o’clock rolled around, she was determined that the course of action her head dictated was how it was going to be. It was the right thing to do and she would do it. She would get Neesh alone and tell her that they could remain friends—she really did enjoy Neesh’s company on that level—but that there could be no more “girl time” between them.