"Greg and I have already looked into this, Jake," she said. "It's not financially feasible. No bank will advance a loan to me because of the reputation and the image left over from my La Diferencia days. I'm considered a has-been."
"Yes, I understand," Jake said. "I'm pretty much in the same boat on that one. Because we have not already established ourselves as solo artists and shown that we are capable of putting out a multi-platinum album, nobody wants to take a chance and finance us. That is why we need to combine forces."
"I don't understand," Greg said. "If they won't give you and Celia loans individually, than what makes you think they would give you one together?"
"They won't," Jake said. "If we're going to do this, we're going to have to pay for it out of our own pockets."
Greg's expression turned shrewd in an instant. "Ahhh," he said. "You're looking for funding."
"I'm looking for investors," Jake corrected. "I'm looking for people who believe enough in Celia and I to risk some of their money on our behalf. Pauline has already agreed to help out."
"And you want Sharon and I to invest as well?" Nerdly said, just to make sure he was hearing correctly.
"Yes," Jake said. "And in return for your investment, you and Sharon would be equal partners in the label and you be put in charge of musical engineering and production. Nobody mixes and engineers like you two do. If I'm going to do this, I want you two onboard."
"Hmmm," Nerdly said, pondering that thought. It was obvious that he liked the idea so far.
"What do you think, Celia?" Jake asked. "There's really no point in discussing anything else unless you're willing to go along."
She looked at her husband for a moment and then back at Jake. "I don't know," she said. "I want to make more music, obviously, but this is kind of a risk, isn't it?"
"Yes it is," he said. "We'll have to put our money where our mouth is."
"By our money," said Greg, "you mean my money. Celia has no income. She still owes Aristocrat several hundred thousand dollars from past recoupable expenses."
Celia gave him a sour look but said nothing.
"Yes," Jake said. "Your money would be a major factor in this."
"How much are we talking about?" Greg asked. "Let's get some figures on the table before we go any further."
"Yes," Jake said. "A wonderful idea. Jill, you're on, hon."
Jill smiled nervously and looked across the table. She did not pull any notes from her briefcase. She had the figures in question well memorized by now. "I'll go ahead and give you the bottom line first. In order to purchase all the equipment needed, hire band members and support staff, rent studio time, and pay for manufacturing, production, and promotion of two solo albums, you will need to invest four million dollars."
"Four million dollars?" Greg said incredulously. "Why so high?"
"That's actually a trimmed down figure," Jill said. "At Jake's suggestion, I cut the amount it would have cost to finance two promotional tours for the albums."
"No tours?" Celia said. "What's up with that?"
"They would have cost about two million dollars apiece," Jill said. "Without securing some sort of financing in addition to what you put down, you simply can't afford to tour."
"But the Intemperance domestic tours made money, didn't they?" asked Sharon.
"Yes they did," Jake said. "But someone had to pay for everything in advance. That someone was National Records. They plopped down the two million bucks to cover arena rental, ticket sale contracts, roadie salaries, truck rentals, hotel rooms and meals, and everything else. They ended up recouping their investment in the end when the tour was over and all of the ticket revenue and merchandising sales were added up, but they still had to pay in advance."
"And we can't pay in advance," Celia said, nodding. "Won't that hurt our album sales if we don't tour?"
"Not as long as we get airplay," Jake said. "We do have a slight advantage in that we're both established artists. If we put out good music and the radio stations play it, the albums will sell with or without a tour."
"Now wait a minute," Greg said, holding up his hand. "Let's not start talking about album sales and production just yet. I'm still a little put off by this figure of four million dollars. How much of that are you expecting me to pay?"
"One fourth," Jake said. "The four partners would be Celia, Nerdly, Pauline, and me. We each put up one million dollars for start-up. Nerdly is in charge of production and engineering. Pauline is in charge of promotion, management, and all the legalities. Jill won't be an investor but she'll be our full-time accountant and we'll pay her handsomely for it. Celia and I will be the musicians. We will produce the music that our label sells and we will each be in absolute control over what appears on our respective albums. We'll take suggestions but we will not take orders. That's pretty much the plan in a nutshell. We'll share equally in all profits."
"Or flounder equally if the project fails," Greg said.
"Yes," Jake said. "If it fails, we'll lose our money."
Everyone sat quietly at the table for a moment, thinking over what Jake had said. Jake thought it interesting that out of all of them, the one who actually had the least to lose was the one questioning things the most. Greg was worth at least twenty million dollars. He would hardly be dinged by losing a mere million. Pauline and Nerdly, by contrast, stood to lose close to a third of their net worth if the venture failed. Yet Pauline had already signed on and Nerdly seemed to be seriously considering it.
"Listen," Jake said. "No one needs to make a decision just yet. In fact, I don't want anyone to make a decision just yet. Jill has some copies of the research she's done regarding this deal. It contains all the facts and figures as well as some really cool bar graphs and pie graphs. Take the copies and show them to your accountants."
"My mom is my accountant," Nerdly said.
"Uh... okay, then show them to your mom," Jake allowed. "And Greg, you can show them to your mom as well."
"Why would I show them to my mom?" Greg asked, confused.
"Or your accountants," Jake said. "Have someone go over everything, double-check Jill's work. I'm sure she won't mind."
"Not at all," Jill said.
"Now I can already tell you, Greg, that your accountants are not going to like this idea," Jake said. "The figures will check out, but they're going to balk at the idea of investing in Celia and me. They will do this for the same reason that those bankers won't give us a loan. That's because they won't trust our potential. You know both of us. You'll have to decide on your own and against contrary advice that your wife and I can do what I know we can do."
Greg nodded. "Okay," he said. "I will take that under consideration."
"And you, Nerdly?" Jake asked.
"I will do the same," he said.
"All right then," Jake said. "Enough business talk. Who wants to go shoot some pool?"
Nerdly reported back two nights later. His mom had checked everything over and liked the way it added up. She had faith in her son and in Jake. She advised him to go for it. Nerdly accepted her advice.
It took nearly two weeks before he got a decision from Greg. Celia called Jake on the phone a few times to let him know that, as he'd foreseen, Greg's accountants were trying their very best to talk him out of making the investment. It was too much risk for too little potential return, he was told over and over again.
In the end, however, Celia managed to wear him down. She called Jake on the morning of April 11.
"We're in," she told him. "For better or worse."
"For better or worse," Jake said with a smile.
"Have Jill start setting up that business account and have Pauline start drawing up the agreement. He'll wire the money as soon as everything is signed."
"I'll call her right now," Jake said. "This is gonna work, Celia."
"I know it will," she said. She sounded happy. "And the best part is we'll be able to work together. I'm gonna need your help putting an album together."