"I understand that," Jake said. "I'm confident enough in myself and my judgment of music to take the risk. The question is, does everyone else trust me?"
"I trust you, Jake," Pauline said. "My gut instinct tells me this is a bad idea, but if there's one thing I've learned since becoming your manager, it's that you know your stuff when it comes to music. I'm in, for what that's worth."
Jake smiled. "Thank you, Pauline. Now we just need to convince the others."
"When are we going to do that?" asked Jill.
"As soon as possible. First thing tomorrow I'll start arranging for someone to take care of my house while I'm gone. As soon as that's done, we'll fly back to LA."
Los Angeles, California
March 29, 1991
Jake did not send out invitations for his dinner party. Instead, he called each person he wished to attend personally, telling him or her that he wanted to discuss a possible business venture. Though he was questioned about his motivations by every person, he volunteered no information on the phone. "I'll explain everything in detail on Friday night," was his standard answer.
He specified that the dress was comfortable casual. Since it was a gathering of friends he wanted everyone to dress as friends. There were would be no suits, no ties, no dresses, no high heels. "Put on your jeans and an old T-shirt," he told everyone. "That's what I'm going to wear."
And that is indeed what he was wearing when the doorbell started ringing at 6:30 that evening. His oldest, most comfortable pair of Levis were on his legs, a pair of old Nike running shoes were on his feet, and his favorite Corona T-shirt covered his chest.
His first guests were Pauline and Jill, both of whom had come from Pauline's house. Pauline was dressed pretty much as Jake was — in a pair of Jordache jeans and a LA Dodgers jersey. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail. Jill, on the other hand, had not been able to bring herself to dress down quite that much. She wore a pair of black slacks and a white, button-up sleeveless blouse.
"I see you took my advice and started showing off those boobs a little," Jake told her with a smile.
"Shut up," she hissed, slapping at him. She was still embarrassed that Jake had seen her bare breasts in the flesh and that he made a point of mentioning the incident whenever the opportunity arose.
Next to show up were Nerdly and Sharon. They had no problem with Jake's dress code for the evening. Baggy jeans and T-shirts were pretty much all they ever wore anyway. Both of them looked him up and down for a second as they stepped in the door. This was the first time they'd seen him since he'd left for New Zealand.
"It's good to see you, Jake," Sharon told him, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "You look... uh... good, you know."
"I look fat," Jake said. "You don't have to pretend."
"I wasn't going to say anything, Jake," Nerdly said, shaking his hand. "But now that you mention it, it does seem like you've been storing a few carbohydrates instead of burning them."
"Yeah yeah," Jake said. "And fuck you too. I'm gonna start hitting the gym tomorrow."
The final two guests arrived a minute later. They were Celia Valdez and Greg Oldfellow. As he opened the door and looked at them Jake saw that Celia — who was wearing Levis and a burgundy polo shirt — had apparently not been burning off all of her carbs either. It looked like she had put on fifteen or twenty pounds since he'd seen her last. It didn't look horrible on her since she'd distributed the extra weight pretty well, but she looked rounder and softer. Her breasts, already big to begin with, had also gotten bigger.
The two of them looked at each other and both decided not to make mention of the other's expanded size. Instead they hugged affectionately and exchanged the standard greetings.
Greg, on the other hand, looked skinnier than Jake remembered, as if he'd lost ten or fifteen pounds. His face had aged as well, and was that a few gray hairs speckling his temples? He, like Jill, had not been able to bring himself to dress completely down for the occasion. He wore dark blue slacks, dress shoes, a yellow shirt, and a matching sports jacket. His contribution to the casual code seemed to be that he was not sporting a tie with his outfit.
"Welcome back, Jake," he said as he shook Jake's hand. "It must be nice to be in civilization again." In Greg's mind, New Zealand was akin to darkest Africa, where natives lived in huts and banged drums and fought off gorillas and lions.
"Yes," Jake said lightly. "I've so missed the traffic and the smog."
In keeping with the theme of the evening, the drinks Jake served were bottles of domestic beer that were stored in ice chests on the back deck. The appetizers were pizza rolls, miniature weenies in barbeque sauce, and taquitoes with guacamole. The dinner itself consisted of barbequed hamburgers, potato salad, baked beans, and corn on the cob. Since it was a little breezy outside, they ate at the main dining room table instead of out on the deck. With the exception of Greg, who only picked at his food, everyone seemed to enjoy the spread that Jake and Elsa had prepared.
"Okay then," Jake said after Elsa removed the last of the dinner plates. "Anyone for an after-dinner drink while I go over my proposal?"
"Cognac, please?" Greg pleaded. "The best you have."
"That sounds like a good idea," Jake agreed. "Anyone else?"
Everyone elected to go with the cognac except for Nerdly, who requested his very favorite after-dinner drink: hot chocolate and peppermint schnapps. Elsa served everyone their choices and Jake proposed a toast.
"To good friends, and to cooperation," he said.
They all drank to that. Jake took this as a good sign.
"Okay then," Jake said when the toast was done. "To use the old cliché, I suppose you're all wondering why I've asked you here tonight."
They gave him the requisite chuckles at this statement.
"Yes, do tell," Greg said.
"You have my curiosity quite piqued," Nerdly said.
"Well allow me to un-pique it then, Nerdly," Jake said. "I have a business proposal that involves everyone in this room. This proposal actually centers around Celia and me, but, in order to work, will need the cooperation of everyone."
He looked at them, seeing that he had their attention. That too was a good sign.
"Let me start by outlining the basic problem that Celia and I face. Celia, correct me if I'm wrong about anything, okay?"
"Okay," she said thoughtfully.
"The basic problem is that due to circumstances that are beyond our control, neither one of us is able to make a solo album in the manner in which we see fit. In my case, the record companies that would make such an album want too much control over the direction of my music. They want me to compose some Intemperance sound-alike tunes that they can exploit for a few albums and rake in more profit. I am not willing to give up that control and we reached an impasse.
"Celia, your situation is considerably worse. Because of your first band and the way your music was produced and promoted, you have been typecast into a certain role. The only way they'll allow you to put out another album is if you give them complete and total control and turn yourself into some kind of sex symbol. In order to do this, you'd have to starve yourself and look like a concentration camp survivor. You, as I understand, are not willing to give up your control either, am I correct?"
"You are absolutely correct," she agreed. "Do you have a solution to this problem?"
"I believe I do," Jake said. "It is my suggestion that Celia and I join forces and create an independent record label. This label will be under the direction of Pauline, with financial planning done by Jill. The purpose of doing this is that if we're independent, both Celia and I can produce and release whatever music we want. We will maintain control that way, as well as reap the majority of the profits from our work."
There were a few murmurs around the table as they digested this. Celia was the first to speak.