Joe watches it one more time and then hands it back to Mike. “If you and Ms. Mancini will wait in the hall for a few minutes, I’d like to confer with my clients.”
Mike looks smug as he leads Reece out the door. Reece, on the other hand—I can’t read her. At first she was sad, then she was pissed, and now she seems, hell, I don’t know.
“Jesus, Garrett,” Crew says. “It’s her goddamn song.”
“Now hold on,” Joe says. “Garrett did help with the lyrics. His suggestions were implemented. Even if he only wrote ten percent of it, without a formal agreement, they are each entitled to an equal split as co-writers.”
“What do you suggest?” Bria asks.
“That depends on if you want to buy the rights from her or not. Do you want to keep the song?”
The five of us look at each other. “Yes,” Bria says. “It’s already getting a lot of attention, and it’s only been out a week.”
“Then it’s best we negotiate quickly,” Joe says. “The more attention it gets, the more leverage she has. I suggest we offer half of what they’re asking. One million in damages and two million for the exclusive license.”
“Three million?” Crew says. “Can we afford that?”
“What do you mean, we?” Liam scoffs. “G stole the song; shouldn’t he be the one to pay?”
A dark cloud seems to envelop me. “I don’t have that kind of money.”
We argue until Joe intervenes. “She’s suing all of you and the label.”
“Still,” Liam says. “It’s G’s fuckup.”
“We’re in this together,” Bria says. “Maybe she’ll take less. She’s a waitress. A million dollars will go a long way. Why don’t we see what happens if we make the offer.”
“I looked into her attorney,” Joe says. “Turns out Ms. Mancini is a friend of the family who owns Mad Max Productions, the company Mike works for. Believe me when I say he’s used to this type of negotiation. I’m not sure he’d even take the offer to his client.”
“But his client is right here,” I say. “She’ll know what we’re offering. I bet she takes it. She grew up with nothing. And she’ll do the lowest, slimiest things for financial security.”
Bria touches my shoulder. “What did she do to you, Garrett?”
I don’t answer. I’m not discussing that.
Joe sighs. “We can try the lowball settlement, but they have the upper hand here. I’ll ask them to come back in.”
Ten minutes pass.
“What’s the hold up?” I ask.
“They said they needed more time,” Joe says.
“For what?”
“If I was psychic, I’d pick the winning lottery numbers, get rich, and retire to the Bahamas.”
Who knew Joe could be funny? I open a bottle of water and chug it, drenching my bone-dry mouth. In my head I’m going through my finances. We’re making serious money, but a lot of it is going into promoting the tour. And IRL is expanding. We recently signed a lease on a larger building. This could really set us back. How in the hell did I get us into this situation?
The door opens, and Reece and her attorney appear. He holds the chair for her while she sits. I can feel her looking at me even though I keep my attention on the table.
Joe says, “Mr. Young, Reckless Alibi, and Indica Record Label are willing to compensate Ms. Mancini, and purchase the exclusive license for the song, for a total sum of one million.”
With stoic expressions, Reece and Mike whisper to each other. “We’d like to re-negotiate our initial settlement offer,” he says when they finish.
Joe cocks his head. “You mean you want to counter what we’re offering?”
“In light of your inability or unwillingness to pay, perhaps we can come to an agreement that doesn’t involve money exchanging hands.”
The five of us look at each other and then Joe.
“Looks like you have our attention,” Joe says.
“Ms. Mancini came up with a compromise. It seems you’re going on tour in March. Ms. Mancini will forgo all compensation if she can be your opening act.”
“No way,” Liam says.
“Does she even have a band?” Crew asks. “Equipment?”
Bria says, “We’ve already lined up half of the opening bands.”
When the room becomes quiet again, I stare at Reece. “What’s your husband going to think of you being gone for over two months?”
She looks at me, confused. “I’m, um …, not married.”
Now I’m the one who’s confused. I glance at her left ring finger, which is bare. I have the urge to ask a lot of questions, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m telling myself I shouldn’t care. She deserves whatever she got.
“Everything makes sense now.” I turn to Joe. “Looks like her asshole husband left her penniless, and she’s trying to extort money from us.” I stare her down. “Karma can be a real bitch, can’t it?”
“This has nothing to do—”
Mike puts a hand on hers and gives her a sharp shake of his head. She stops talking. “It’s hardly extortion, Mr. Young. Ms. Mancini wrote the song. I’ll concede that you had a hand in it, but she is deserving of whatever compensation she’s seeking.”
Joe looks at me for direction. “No way.”
“Then it looks like we’re back to our original settlement offer,” Mike says. “Which would you prefer? Two million and the song rights revert to Ms. Mancini, or six million and you keep them? Either way, everyone in this room knows we have you over a barrel.”
“I need a few more minutes with my clients,” Joe says.
Mike and Reece exit the room once more.
“Maybe we could come up with three million,” Crew says, “but six? That’s not going to happen.”
“So we just let her crash our fucking party?” Liam says.
“She’s bluffing,” I say. “I doubt she has a band.”
“She could easily find one,” Crew says. “Who wouldn’t want to go on tour with us and open for thirty-five shows?”
Bria stands and paces. “We can’t cancel the two dozen bands we’ve already booked. That wouldn’t be fair. Imagine if that had happened to you when you opened for White Poison.”
“She’s right,” Jeremy says.
“What the hell are we going to do?” I ask.
“I have an idea,” Bria says. “She’s a great singer. I can say that after hearing her on a six-year-old amateur video. My guess is she’s even better in person. What if we let her come along and sing ‘Swerve’?”
I push back from the table. “I’m not spending ten weeks with her, let alone be onstage with her.”
“We might not have a choice, G,” Liam says. “Unless you have six million bucks you’ve been hiding from us.”
“I’m not doing it.”
“It might be the best compromise,” Joe says. “Since she’s willing to forgo the money, it looks like she might not be a gold digger after all. Could be she just wants recognition. Exposure. Bria’s idea might offer you the best outcome.”