Page 74
Story: One More Bad Boy
“Yes,” agreed Dana. “Hence why Ms. Summeralsosigned, assuming the risk. It was supposed to be for Amina's benefit, but—”
“But instead, she ran off, leaving ME with all this debt from the way she broke the terms!” Aya snapped. “I thought I'd never hear of her again, until I saw her on the news, singing at some Hollywood party.” Her eyes fixed on me. “You're trying to make a mint off of her.”
Something squeaked—my fingers crushing the back of the waiting room's couch. I was boiling up inside. Desperately ready to fight someone, to shed blood, if only I could find an excuse. But in business, the only thing that gets cut is your net-worth. And these two women were slicing mine apart the longer they spoke. “Get to it, what do you want?”
“Legally, Amina can't sign a contract with your company,” Dana said. “Not until she's fulfilled her end of the one she signed first. That means no shows, no appearances, no music production of any kind. Understand?”
Of course, I understood.Her debut CD... all that blood sweat and tears, and Amina can't legally let anyone hear it.
“Just give us the number,” Violet whispered.
Summer grinned until I could see her entire upper gum-line. “The damages amount to two million dollars.”
“Two million?” I snarled, pounding my fist onto the couch's arm. Summer jumped, startled, but her lawyer just stared coolly. “How can that possibly be right?”
It wasn't either of them that responded.
It was Violet.
“Bach,” she said, her head hanging low. “This contract is iron-clad. It lays it out cleanly. Even if it's draconian... the kind of contract we'd NEVER make someone sign, that your father fought so hard against... it's legal. Amina owes for failure to finish multiple albums, to appear at shows they'd arranged, then there's the signing bonuses, never mind the interest compounded over eight years...”
“Plus, the damages to me,” Summer cut in. “That selfish girl caused a lot of trouble in my life.”
Selfish?
Amina was anything but that.
“Come on,” Summer scoffed. “Don't waste your time acting miserable. I know your company can afford to pay this.”
Violet shared a long look with me.No, we can't.Maybe a year ago it would have been no problem. Now? We'd spent what liquid capitol we had to sign our new musicians, plus create Amina's CD. I'd been leaking money like a wounded animal. This recent spending was intentional, because it had to be done to give us a chance at salvaging my company.
If we couldn't use Amina's music, we were pretty much fucked. But paying her contract off was impossible.
I turned towards Violet to get her advice. She was staring just past my ear. Someone knocked on the edge of the open door.
Sherman.
“Sorry I'm late,” he said.
“It's fine,” Dana responded, “I was just going over the terms with Mr. Devine here. You didn't miss much.”
The pressure in my skull was hitting its apex. I hadn't blinked since seeing Sherman, because I wasn't entirely confident this was real. It couldn't be. Life had thrown enough cruel jokes in my face, hadn't it?
Sherman touched us one by one with his smile. I was last. “Bach, how are you?”
“What the hell are you doing here?” I growled.
Aya laughed into the back of her hand. “You weren't kidding, Sherman. He really doesn't like you.”
“I'm here as a sort of mediator,” Sherman said. “Think of me as having your best interests in mind.”
“Bullshit,” I spat.
Violet took in a calming breath. “What are you trying to mediate, Sherman? This suit is between Beats and Blast and Ms. Summer.”
“I'd like to talk about that with Bach in private,” he said. Dana lifted her eyebrows but didn't argue. Motioning for Aya to follow her, the pair exited the waiting area. Sherman tucked his thumbs in his pants before strolling towards the elevator. “I think your office will be fine for this chat.”
Violet grabbed my wrist, then walked in front of me—her silent way of saying she wasn't going to be cut out of this.Sherman didn't seem to care that she climbed into the elevator with us. He smiled like a crocodile who'd cornered a swimmer the whole ride up.
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