“Uh, sure. Let me check.”
I turn my back and mouth to Josh,Big Time Records, pointing behind me. His eyes widen as I walk over to the rest of the band. “Boys, Big Time is back tonight, and the president is asking to meet with us.Be cool.”
I say it in time to stop Wingnut from whooping or doing something equally uncool. He gives me a sheepish look and shuffles his feet, but he’s grinning.
“Not us,” Jules says. “They don’t need the whole band. You and Luther can handle this.”
Luther scans their faces. “You sure?”
Rodney nods.
“We’ll pack up,” Wingnut says. “Call us when you’re done. We’ll wait at the pool house.”
“Is this real life?” I ask Luther.
He reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. “It is. We’ve earned it. You ready?”
I take a deep breath and nod. “Let’s introduce the rest of you to the president before you take off.”
They follow me back to Jonny and Marisol, Luther bringing up the rear. He hangs back to talk with Josh until I make the rest of the introductions, then steps forward to shake hands too.
“It was nice to meet you,” Jules says. “We’re going to take off and get everything back to the studio”—I smother a smile at the pool house’s promotion—“but Sami and Luther will keep us posted.”
“Your man needs to come with us,” Luther tells me in a low voice. “We been talking. You okay with that?”
I look over at Josh, who watches me with raised eyebrows, like he knows what Luther told me and he’s waiting for a verdict. “Absolutely.” Guess he took my condition seriously.
An hour later as we sit in a quiet corner of the hotel bar, Josh is asking questions about royalty rates, “three-sixty” deals, rights retention, profit participation, and all kinds of things I wouldn’t have thought to ask. I’ve always depended on Luther to know this kind of stuff while Jules handles booking shows and I’ve handled lyrics, sound, and image. Now I regret not having dug into the business side of things more, because there are whole sections of the conversation I’m not following.
The label people pay the tab and get to their feet, shaking hands with all of us.
“We’ll look forward to making this official,” Marisol says.
“Possibly,” Josh counters. “As we told you, you’re not the only label interested right now. My clients will need to hear the other offer before they make a decision.”
She nods. “Big Time Records wants to be in the Pixie Luna business. I know a winner when I see one.” She and Jonny smile and take their leave.
Josh waits until they’re gone before he takes his seat, looking at me with those same raised eyebrows.
“Your clients?”
He shrugs. “I’m fairly sure the price is right, and I can promise you I’ve done the research.”
I fight a smile. “What are you billing me?”
He taps his cheek, a clear request for a kiss. I laugh and comply. Luther grabs him and gives him a loud, smacking smooch on the other side. Josh sits back and grins. “So I’m hired?”
I look at Luther. “Your call. I don’t want everyone thinking I hired him just because he’s hot.”
Luther smiles. “Your man knows his stuff. Impressive as hell. You’re hired. But Sami will have to keep up the payments, not me.”
Josh toasts him with the glass of water he’s been nursing. “If you want, I can meet with the rest of the band before Southwest Fest and explain the pros and cons of going with Big Time versus an indie label. I’m positive Bat Bridge will make an offer. Y’all are going to have a big choice to make.”
“Can you come tomorrow night?” Luther asks.
Josh nods but gets to his feet again. “I’ll be there, but for right now, I need to get home or I’ll be worthless at the office tomorrow. You want to come with me, Sami?”
“Yes, but I better stay and go over some stuff with Luther.”
