“Even so. It’s not like I can afford to hire a lawyer. You know as well as I do, I can barely make rent.”
He smiles. “You must have forgotten who you’re talking to.”
“What do you mean?”
“My dad owns a production company. He’s probably got five entertainment lawyers working for him. I’m sure he’d be happy to let you talk to one of them.”
“Do you think I really have a case?”
“Are those really your lyrics?”
“Yes.”
“Then you owe it to yourself to do something about it.”
I take a drink. “I do, don’t I?”
I finish off the rest of the bottle, terrified because I know one thing for sure. I won’t get through this without having to face Garrett Young.
Chapter Three
Garrett
Heading back to the studio, I pass four more musicians in the hall waiting to audition. I slip into the room and take a seat next to Crew. “We’ve been at this all day long. Let’s just pick someone already.”
“We’re not trying on new shirts, G. This is someone who is going to become one of us. It’s a damn hard decision.”
It’s not like the ten previous players weren’t good, but they just didn’t feel right. It’s funny. I never thought Brad fit in with the rest of RA, but after meeting dozens of potential replacements, I’ve come to the conclusion he actually does.
“Thank you,” Brad says to the person auditioning. “We’ll let you know.”
He leaves and the next one comes in. By the time the last bassist plays, I’m about to pull my hair out. “He’s as good as any of them,” I say to Brad. “What do you think?”
He shrugs. “I suppose.”
I cross to where Liam, Crew, and Bria are sitting. “How about it? Want to give this one a shot?”
They don’t oppose the idea.
He stops playing.
“What’s your name again?” Liam asks.
“Iggy Smart.”
“Iggy?” I say. “That’s not your real name, is it?”
He whips out his driver’s license and shows it to me.
“Well, damn.”
Liam picks up his guitar. “Alright, Iggy, let’s all jam and see how well we play together. You know ‘Sins on Sunday’?”
“Hell, yeah.”
We take our places. Everyone but Brad. It doesn’t seem right that he’s not going to be one of us anymore. I close my eyes as I play so I can really listen to Iggy. He’s good. It’s hard to tell it’s not Brad playing. When the song ends, we play two more. Brad’s all about his wife and new baby now, but I could swear he doesn’t want to leave. He hasn’t been truly happy in a while, but throughout these auditions, he’s seemed downright depressed. Especially now.
Ronni is in the booth watching. She gives us a thumbs-up—not that I give a shit what she thinks, but at this point, I’m willing to accept her vote just to get this over with.
We stop playing, and I nod at the door. “Give us a few minutes, Iggy.”
In the conference room, I corner Brad. “Are you one hundred percent sure this is what you want?”
He nods, but I don’t miss the reluctance. “I have to put my family first.”
I turn to the others. “Iggy is good, but there’s something about him. I just can’t be sure.”
Liam takes a seat. “We sure as hell can’t bring someone on we’re not sure about. We can’t give a fifth of our earnings to some random person off the street we don’t know from Adam.”
“Who says we have to?” I ask.
“Well, we have to do something,” Bria says.
“Garrett’s right,” Ronni says. “You don’t have to bring him on as a full-fledged member of Reckless Alibi. You need someone pronto so you can get ready for the tour. Offer him a six-month contract, no royalty split, and a monthly salary. If he works out, great, we’ll make him a permanent member. If not, you got the tour covered, and you can have auditions again after.”
In all the time we’ve known her, I’ve never heard a better idea come out of her filthy mouth.
“Fantastic,” Crew says.
“Are we in agreement then?” Liam asks.
I nod.
“I’ll have Joe negotiate a contract with Iggy. I’m sure we can come to terms.” She turns to me. “Speaking of Joe, he’s waiting outside to talk with you.”
Liam laughs. “How many girls have you knocked up this week?”
I clip him on the back of the knee with a drumstick.
“The rest of you go give Iggy the news,” Ronni says. “Tell him Joe will contact him tomorrow, then come right back here. This involves all of you.”
They leave, and Joe joins us. I angrily take a seat. “I’m telling you, Joe, I’m not anyone’s goddamn baby daddy.”
“That’s not what this is about. In fact, this doesn’t only involve you. I need to meet with the whole band, but I wanted to have a minute alone with you first.”
“Here I am. What’s up?”
“Does the name Reece Mancini mean anything to you?”
My heart stops momentarily, and I can feel the blood drain from my face.
Joe and Ronni share a look. “From your reaction, I’d say that’s a yes. What’s your relationship with her?”
“We don’t have one. Not for six years.”
“So you were involved once. You dated?”
A sick feeling washes over me as I nod.
“IRL has been issued a cease and desist order from Mike Harvey’s office.”
“Who’s Mike Harvey?”
“He’s a well-established entertainment attorney who works for a New York City production company.”
“Music production?”
“Movies.”
“What does a movie producer’s lawyer have to do with me?”
“I’m not sure, but he issued the order regarding one of your new songs.”
I close my eyes and blow out a deep sigh.
“You’re not even going to ask which one?” Ronni says.
“I know which one, but I wrote it.”
“Not according to Ms. Mancini.”
“Well, she was there.”
“She was there?” Ronni spits. “And it’s clearly written for a woman. It’s why Brianna sings it.”
“She may have helped, but I wrote it. I’ll go home and get my notes. That’s proof, right?”
“Anything you have will certainly help. We’ve set up a meeting at my office tomorrow.”
There is a knock on the door, and the other band members return. “What’s up?” Crew asks.
“Garrett, Reckless Alibi and Indica Record Label are being sued over the copyright to ‘Swerve’,” Ronni says.
“Fuck. Really?” Liam says.
They take seats, eyeing me suspiciously.
“I wrote the song,” I tell them.
“A woman named Reece Mancini claims to have written it. The lyrics anyway.”
“What did you do?” Crew asks.