“Off to the studio?” Trent asked.
“Yeah, got down the outline for a great song yesterday, so we want to see if we can finish it off today. Then I’m taking tomorrow off. You?”
“I’m opening, so I gotta shoot. You need a ride?”
“Nah, that’s mine over there,” he said, tilting his chin in the direction of the town car. Dred hugged Trent and slapped him on the back. “See you later.”
When he was in the limo, he checked his messages. There was an email from Sam.
Spoke to John Ferica this morning. He’s in New York right now so can’t really take meetings, but says label requirements are clear, as is the contract.
Their treatment by the label was the only thing left in his life with the potential to burst his happy bubble, and he was so fucking over it. But Dred couldn’t be sure how persuasive Sam was being. Dred looked at his watch. Seventeen minutes to eight. He scrolled through his emails and found one from John that listed his cell phone number. Without giving himself time to overthink it, Dred dialed.
“Ferica.”
“Hey, John, it’s Dred Zander. How’re you doing?”
“Dred Zander,” he said in a long drawn-out drawl. “Gimme a minute, will ya?”
He heard John mumbling instructions to someone else in the room.
“Sorry about that, Dred, I’m back. Can I say we’re all thrilled with how well the box set did over the holidays? Worked out great. Got us some great momentum in the first quarter that’s carried through into this one. How’s the album coming along?”
Either the guy was dumb or was playing him. “Well, I think you know, right? You spoke to Sam this morning.”
“No. Haven’t spoken to Sam in a while. In fact, it’s been so long, I was thinking of giving you guys a shout. I’m interested in hearing where this album’s taking you.”
Dred ran his hand through his hair. “What do you mean you haven’t heard from Sam in a while? We had a list of issues we asked him to bring to you and he told us you blew them off.” Dred opened the window to let in some air. He was suddenly uncomfortable.
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “I don’t know about Sam, man. I always said you needed someone with a shit-load more experience. What’s on your mind?”
“The timing of the European leg of tour and the album is really tight, but we can just about pull it off if we didn’t have to do all that other stuff you ask for. Like the festivals and all the publicity events.”
“Look, Dred, we asked Sam if you guys thought you could manage the timing of the tour and album and he told me you all agreed,” John replied.
Dred tugged on his anchor. “Sam told us it was non-negotiable. It’s been a fucking shit-show trying to get it done.”
“We didn’t ask for you to do Brazil. I mean, it’s all good publicity, but the album and tour have always been our priority.”
“So the tour? Did you say I couldn’t bring my family along?”
“No, Dred. I had no clue you had a family. Congrats, man. Listen. I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but sounds like Sam isn’t on the up. Talk with the guy. Fire him if you have to. Let me help you find a new agent. Send me a list of what you need to make the tour happen. Sales from you guys over the past two years have kept us all in jobs. You’re one of our best earners. If you’ll forgive the pun, you’re fucking rock stars.”
Dred’s chest tightened. Sam had been their friend for nearly a decade. Either Sam or John was lying. His sense of loyalty told him to defend his friend, but he sensed no deception from John. And he was relieved by not having to confront the label about Petal and Pixie joining him on tour.
He pulled up outside a redbrick building. “John, I just got to the recording studio, can I get the rest of the guys together and call you back in five?”
“Sure, but it’ll have to be later. I got meetings from nine until one, but gimme a ring back then.”
“Thanks, John.”
He ended the call, then thanked the driver before stepping out of the car.
His next call was to the head of security at the American Airlines Arena.
Perhaps they could help him figure out who was telling the truth.
*
Pixie’s heart skipped a beat as she turned the corner and walked toward Second Circle. Petal was wide awake and looking at the world around her. But even the sight of her cute dark eyes that looked like Dred’s couldn’t calm the turmoil inside. It wasn’t unusual for her to swing by on her day off, but she’d chosen today because she knew Trent and Cujo were both on the opening shift, which was a rare occurrence. And she had something to discuss with them.
She knocked on the window. Cujo waved and headed to the front door to open it for her.
“Morning, Pix. Here, let me get that,” he said, reaching for the stroller.
“I know it’s early, but I wondered if I could talk with you and Trent for a minute,” she said nervously.
“Sure. He’s in the office.”