But she had. And that gave me a sliver of hope on this otherwise shitty day.
I had flown up by myself. Jose had insisted that I come in before the other guys. He had arranged for someone to collect Jordan, Mitch, and Garrett just before the meeting.
“You and I have some shit to discuss,” Jose declared, steering me towards a black sedan. I threw my overnight bag in the back. I hadn’t known exactly what would happen once I got to New York, so I had come prepared to stay over. If things went south, I wasn’t sure I could head back to Bakersville right away.
Who knows where I’d end up?
“You are one hard asshole to get ahold of. Is there a reason you haven’t returned any of my calls? I need to know what you’re planning to do today. I have people on the line waiting to know what you decide, Cole. This isn’t how shit is done!” Jose said tersely. He clenched his teeth as he wove through traffic.
“I get that. I just wasn’t sure what I was going to tell you,” I answered honestly. No sense in mentioning the fact that I had spent most of the past week drunk off my ass and feeling fucking sorry for myself.
“Then we talk it out. I need your head in the game. I want to get you to where you need to be, Cole. I thought we were getting on the same page. I thought you wanted this. I hope like hell I didn’t misread you. I thought you were someone who would fight tooth and nail for the fame and the recognition. You want it. I see it every time you get on that stage. And everyone else sees it too. Which is why Deep Hill fucking wants you. They don’t go after just anyone. But they’re going after you.”
I didn’t say anything. I watched as the Manhattan skyline got closer and closer. Jose’s lip service was kind of grating. This was a guy who only wanted me for what I could give him.
I could suck three ways to Sunday but if I could make him a buck or two, Jose would surgically implant his lips to my ass.
“Are you hearing me, Cole? This is your chance! You’d be a fucking idiot of you didn’t do it. Do you realize how many young artists would murder their own grandma to have the chance that is sitting in your lap? Open the glove compartment,” he barked, obviously irritated by my lack of response.
I thought about telling him to shove his demands straight up his nose, but didn’t want to end up in the Hudson River sleeping with the fishes.
I opened the glove compartment, not sure what I was looking for.
“Get those papers out,” he directed.
I pulled out a stapled stack of paperwork and saw my name and Jose’s at the top.
“That’s your new contract. The one that let’s me work with you. Just you. There’s a pen in there as well.” He thought I was just going to sign it. That I was going to do whatever the hell he told me to do.
“What’s the hold up? Just sign it. It’s a standard contract. Nothing crazy.” He was being awfully pushy.
Traffic into Manhattan was a bitch. And things inside the car were getting markedly tenser.
“I’m not signing these right now, Jose. There’s a lot going on. I need to get through the next few hours, if you don’t mind,” I said firmly. I was sick and tired of this dick bossing me around. He was supposed to be working for me, not the other way around.
Jose seemed shocked by my new set of balls.
“Yeah, sure. I get it. I wouldn’t worry about today. I’ve already spoken to Tate at the label and we’re going to be able to dissolve the contract without a whole lot of bullshit. The label will keep the album but you’ll be able to go elsewhere when all is said and done.”