“Fine.” I’d learned that keeping my answers as short and noncommittal as possible was the best way to deal with anyone at the label.
“Any new music brewing?”
My hand tightened around the phone. The music that was beginning to come together on the edges of my mind was personal. Private. I didn’t want any of these greedy soul-suckers anywhere near it. “Nope.”
Dan exhaled a ragged breath. “That’s unfortunate. Listen, I think we have a solution. It’s genius, really.”
I flipped my guitar pick over and over between my fingers. “And what’s that?”
“I know you’re a huge fan of Richard Malstrom’s work.” The exaggerated cheeriness in Dan’s tone had me on alert.
“Yes…” Richard Malstrom was an incredible producer. He had more Grammys than he could probably count, and I would kill to work with him.
“I spoke with him this morning. He has a few songwriters that have tracks we think would be a good fit for you. Why don’t you head back to LA, and we can get you in the studio and recording?”
I squeezed the back of my neck, the guitar pick digging into my flesh. I loved collaborating with other musicians. The back and forth dance of spurring on each other’s creative process was a high unlike any other, but this wasn’t collaboration. I had zero desire to record a song I’d had no part in creating. “No.”
“Liam, be reasonable. Your record is due in two months, and you have almost nothing. This is the solution that makes the most sense.”
I stood, beginning to pace. “This isn’t how I work, and you know it. Look, I’ve given you guys four multi-platinum albums. You know my work is good if you don’t rush it.”
Dan’s voice lost all levity. “We’ve already extended the deadline once. If you don’t deliver, you’ll be in breach of contract.” That was the thing about these people, they shifted on a dime. You were their best friend one second, and their sworn enemy the next.
My blood began to heat. “I tell you what,Dan.I’m going to get my lawyer and accountant on the phone. I’ll make sure you have the album advance back by the end of business tomorrow. We can just call this one a loss and realize we never should’ve been working together in the first place.”
Silence. A throat clearing. “That’s not necessary. If you need a little more time, we can work with that. We know true artistry can’t be rushed.”
Exactly what I thought. It all came down to money. Money and power. My label wanted the claim to my music. It wouldn’t do if I left them and went to another label. How would that make themlook? After all, appearances were everything.
I ran a hand through my hair. “I appreciate that, Dan.”
“Of course. Now there’s something else I need to talk to you about.”
“What?” My mind was already on the call I was going to make to my lawyer after this. I’d let Dan think I’d been placated, but I wanted out of this contract. I was done. I’d still make music, but I wanted to do it on my own schedule, without anyone trying to control my art.
“It appears we might have another issue with your stalker.”
A sour taste filled my mouth. “What do you mean?”
Dan cleared his throat again. “We had some comments on your blog and social media accounts that our security experts believe are Ms. Speakman. There is no definitive proof, but the posts are of a threatening nature. We think it’s best if you return to the city and have your security detail with you at all times.”
I blew out a harsh breath. I lived with threats on my social media accounts every day. It was part of the gig. People wanted to see you rise, others wanted to see you fall. This was nothing new. And it pissed me the fuck off that my label was using a mentally unstable girl as an excuse to call me back to LA. “No.”
“Liam…”
I gripped the railing of the deck. “I said, no.”
“Well, at least tell us where you are so we can send your security detail there.”
More like so they could leak it to the press and capitalize on a spike in record sales. “I said no. I’m perfectly safe where I am. If you can’t find me, then whoever is making thesethreatswon’t be able to either.”
Silence. More shuffling of papers. “You’re a pain in the ass to deal with, you know that?”
I chuckled, but it had a feral quality to it. “Right back at you. Look, I need to go work on some music so that you can have that album you’ve got such a hard-on for.”
“Fine.” The word was said through what sounded like gritted teeth. “Let me know when you need me to block out some studio time.”
Like hell, I would. I was running fast and far from anything to do with Dan and his minions. I was done. Instead of telling him that, though, I lied like the best of them. “Will do.”
