Rowland looks at me, amused and patronizing – or trying to be.
“Lexi’s back in the fold. And now we’ve got another superstar to join her. You’ve just brought in two of the biggest acts this label’s seen in years. I’m thinking that’s at least deserving of a little compensation on my behalf. You can forget about being fired – I’m giving you your own label, under the company umbrella of course, and all the freedom to sign, blow cash, and do whatever you want with it. How does that sound?”
“Haley’s not a Majestic artist. She might not even be mine anymore.”
The words seem to slice me as I say them. I watch her on stage, singing with a passion that seems to infect the whole audience. The most talented person I know expressing herself, it used to fill me with pride seeing her do this – but that was before the fall.
“No?” Rowland says, in a way that makes me look back at him. This time there’s no mistake, the amused and patronizing look is real for once.
“She didn’t sign anything,” I say, an explanation that only seems to make Rowland smile even more. “Our agreement was verbal. Not on paper.”
He looks out at Haley again, who’s reaching the crescendo of the song, wailing melodically, the audience moving to her rhythm.
“Who paid for her studio time?” Rowland says, smugly. “Who paid her musicians to play with her, or Josh for producing her songs? You even used the Majestic account to fast-track her single onto services online. I’ve got my fingers all over Haley’s music. There’s more than enough for my lawyers to work with.”
I look at him incredulously, unable to believe what I’m hearing.
He chuckles and pats my shoulder. “Signing artists is the easy part, Brando. Tying them up, forcing them to depend on you, work in your structure – that’s what being a record label is all about. Haley’s perfectly within her rights to try and be independent, but she’ll have to pay back every penny I spent on her, and fight a long legal battle over what my fair share is. Of course, she won’t be making much music while she does that – court proceedings do tend to drag on and get awfully exhausting.”
Haley finishes the song and as the studio audience goes crazy I stand there, my body still feeling like it’s caked in concrete, while Rowland applauds enthusiastically along with the rest of the crowd. Haley leaves the stage on the other side, waving at the audience.
“It’s going to be a hell of a ride,” Rowland says, leaning in far too closely, “managing two incredible acts. But I know you’ll do me proud.”
He gives me one last smack on the back before walking away. I drop my head and remember to breathe.
Four minutes. That’s how long Haley’s song is. Four minutes that made me forget Lexi. Four minutes that made me see Haley was special. Four minutes that connected us.
Four minutes in which I lost it all.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Does Brando have you hooked? Find out what happens next in Part Two, Coming November 12, 2015.
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Chapter 1
Jax
I walked into the bar.
That might not sound like anything impressive, but that’s where you’re wrong.
Let me tell you something. I can tell how a woman fucks by the way she moves; you can tell how a man handles business between the sheets by the way he walks.
And my walk says one thing very loud, and very clear. I’m the best fuck there is.
When I lean onto the bar, I don’t need to get the barman’s attention. The club’s attention is already on me.
“Hey Jax,” he says, sliding a beer towards me. “Brando coming?”
“Yeah, he is,” I reply, taking off my shades and turning around to get a feel for the scene.
When you’ve been hitting the clubs as long as I have, you learn to read the signs as easily as traffic lights.
The girl with too many wrinkles in her tight dress? Her hair not perfectly straight? She’s been dancing all night. She’s not a regular – I’d know her if she was. She likes it all night, likes to be on top, so she can move at her own pace.