Page 23 of Forever Country (Forever Bluegrass #24)

“ C all the SCMP and get a seat added next to me for Annaleigh. I know she’s already going, but she’s stuck in the back where they put the non-public facing industry professionals,” Holt told Morgan in their meeting.

The Society of Country Music Professionals, or SCMP Awards, was being held next week in Nashville.

Holt was up for Songwriter of the Year, Song of the Year, Album of the Year, and Artist of the Year.

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Morgan told him.

“Add a seat for security too,” Holt said as Morgan took down notes. “Get a fifth seat for you, me, Annaleigh, my mom, and I can take either Blythe or Aiden. I’ll check to see who is available.”

“I’ll see what I can do. It might be easier to ask for the whole row.

There aren’t many seats left that aren’t fillers from what I can remember.

” Morgan looked up from her notes with a serious expression.

“I know you know that your four-album contract is up. We’ve discussed this and you’re already working on your fifth album, so we need to either finalize this deal, go shopping for a new label, or go independent. ”

“What’s the current status?” Holt hadn’t been worried about getting a second deal.

He was becoming one of the top country artists, but he was diligent about keeping control of the songs he wrote.

He hadn’t expected it but his label was beginning to give him some pushback.

There were some new terms hidden in the contract about using Artificial Intelligence to write songs, and more disturbingly, giving AI rights to his voice so they could use AI to cover vocals, which Holt refused to agree to.

“Sing this song like Holt Everett” was a command he would never allow.

“We’re working on it. They’re not budging on AI. They say we need to adapt.”

“Not only do they want me to stop songwriting and instead use AI so they don’t have to pay songwriters, but this contract also gives them the authority to run my voice through AI and have AI sing songs for me, whether or not I approve.

No. I’ll go indie if I have to.” Holt took a breath and steeled himself for what he knew was coming.

“I want to toss out most of my tracks for the fifth album—or more precisely, put them on hold. I’ve written enough new material for a whole new album.

I started it the day after Annaleigh showed up soaking wet and scared at my door and finished after dinner at the café.

” He handed her his notebook then sat nervously back as Morgan began to read.

The room was quiet for nearly fifteen minutes as Morgan read through his songs.

Then she slowly closed the notebook. “I’m making a decision for you.

You can’t sign your current deal that’s on the table.

This album is going to skyrocket you to a whole new level.

It’ll set you up for life. It’ll be iconic.

These will be the love songs of a whole generation. ”

“But what do I do if I don’t have a label?” Holt asked her.

Morgan sat back in her chair and frowned. “I don’t know yet. Let me do some research and send out some feelers to other labels. That alone might be enough for your label to drop the AI clause.”

Holt gathered his things as Morgan left.

He went to the lobby of Sebastian’s offices and texted his parents about the meeting as he waited for Annaleigh to finish her meeting.

He talked with his parents, worked on some songs, went over the staging for the festival the day before the awards show and he also finalized his setlist. After a while he glanced at his watch.

It had been four hours since Annaleigh’s meeting had started.

Hopefully that meant the meeting was going well.

Holt read an article Morgan texted him on some rappers who had branched off from major labels in order to have complete freedom over their careers.

She’d also sent him articles on authors doing the same thing in the publishing industry.

In the two hours since their meeting ended, Morgan had gotten three meetings set up for tomorrow with other major record labels to test the waters of their interest, but more importantly, try to find out what kind of contract they’d offer.

Holt was big enough now that he knew he’d be in a bidding war between labels.

But would they cave to all his demands and would he even want to bother with it all?

Holt sent a text to Paisley asking if she could talk. He valued her opinion more than anyone in the industry. Instead of texting back, his phone rang. Holt answered it and stepped out onto the sidewalk to take the call.

“Is this about the column in Country Tea ?” Paisley asked.

“No, Morgan will handle that,” he said about the column that said he was ditching Morgan for Drew Astore after Annaleigh begged him to. “I want to know what you think about the current landscape of record labels, AI, and releasing music as an indie.”

Holt didn’t tell her about his contract. He wanted her unbiased perspective of the industry now and in the future. Paisley was happy to give it to him. She talked for almost thirty minutes non-stop giving him her unfiltered opinions.

“Thanks, Paise. You’ve given me a lot to think about,” Holt told her as he heard movement coming from the hallway.

“You’re not the only one thinking about these things, Holt.

Everyone is thinking about it but most are just too scared to do more than think.

I sense a shift in our industry right under the surface.

We could go two ways. One would destroy the originality of music.

The other would be breaking from everything we know in the traditional way of selling music.

The question is: are you going to lead this shift or follow it? ”

Holt hung up with Paisley right as the door opened and Annaleigh and Maddie came out talking at the same time.

The front door also opened as Sebastian’s wife, Greer, walked in.

Everyone met in the lobby. Sebastian strode into the lobby as soon as Greer greeted Holt.

Holt didn’t know how he’d heard Greer speak from inside the conference room.

“Annaleigh, this is my friend Greer Abel. Greer, this is Annaleigh Astore and her friend, Maddie Underwood,” Holt said as the others trailed into the lobby behind Sebastian.

“I’ve seen the betting apps,” Greer said, sending Holt a wink as she shook Annaleigh’s hand.

Greer was glowing with her pregnancy and Holt watched as Sebastian took in every inch of her as if evaluating how she and the baby were doing.

“It’s so nice to meet you. And you too, Maddie.

I got a text that you’ll be joining my husband and me on our trip to New York.

I look forward to getting to know you better. ”

Maddie was glowing with excitement as he shook Greer’s hand. “I’m beyond honored that your husband has agreed to mentor me. Do you work with Sebastian too?”

Greer smiled with a twinge of amusement. She ran a powerful off-the-books black ops group that only Keeneston residents knew about since The President’s Guard was headquartered here for training. “No. I work with the president.”

“Isn’t Sebastian the president of SA Tech?” Maddie asked.

“The President of the United States,” Greer said, ignoring the way Maddie’s mouth fell open.

“Ariana and Jameson will be joining us. Ari and I have meetings at the United Nations while you and Sebastian plot to take over Nashville. It’s always fun to see women breaking into male-dominated fields.

Now, if you’ll excuse us, this baby is demanding bread pudding. ”

Sebastian hurried forward and put his arm around his wife and led her outside after agreeing to pick Maddie up tomorrow morning to fly to New York.

“Ladies, would you like to go to dinner? We can eat at the café,” Holt offered.

Annaleigh nodded and he reached out and took her hand in his. His whole body just felt at peace when he was touching her.

“I’d love to. I’m starving,” Maddie answered, slipping an arm into Holt’s other arm as they all walked down the sidewalk together. “But if you don’t protect me from the sweet old ladies plying me with alcohol, I won’t be responsible for what I say or do. Like him. Sweet Jesus but he’s hot.”

“Not Jesus, just his messenger.” Father Ben smiled at Maddie’s confused look.

Father Ben had been a Special Forces chaplain.

He braved the front lines to “tend to his flock at their most perilous times” as he liked to say.

Now Keeneston was his flock and his Special Forces training came in pretty handy between protecting the residents from outside threats to planning the church’s wedding dates.

It took a strong man not to cower from the Rose sisters or Marcy Davies when they were set on a wedding date.

“Maddie,” Holt told her, speaking up before she could say anything else embarrassing. “This is Father Ben.”

Holt could see why it was confusing. Ben wasn’t in his clerical attire. He was in a T-shirt and athletic shorts. He’d probably just gotten done working out with the other military guys in town.

“Oh, where’s your kid?” Maddie asked. “Single dads can be hot as long as they’re good dads.”

“You are all my children,” Ben said and Holt groaned. He knew where this was going.

“Ooh, you’re into the daddy kink. That’s fine,” Maddie said, winking at him. “I’ll be your good girl. Or your very naughty one.”

“Oh my gosh, Mad!” Annaleigh gasped. “He’s an actual Catholic priest!”

“Bullshit. I’m Catholic and I’m telling you Annaleigh, priests don’t look like that. So, you want to be my daddy? Or should I call you father?”

Annaleigh groaned and this time Ben actually cleared his throat. He unzipped his duffel bag and pulled out his clerical collar and put it on over this sweaty T-shirt.