Hitting the Right Note (27 page)

J
J grabbed the nearest object and threw it as a surge of energy powered through her.

“You sneaky, conniving bastard . . .” The vase near the hotel door missed its target and went crashing into the wall behind. “I have been calling you for the past two days and you didn't even have the decency to pick up the phone and answer?”

“Wait, I can explain . . .” Rayshawn ducked as JJ's structured Coach purse came at his head.

“You can explain how you went behind my back?” Her left wedged sandal went first. “Made decisions for me without consulting me? All because you were mad at me?”

Her right wedged sandal followed swiftly after, striking him in the shoulder. He groaned and rubbed the injured spot.

“No, JJ, it's not because of that,” Rayshawn said, backing away. “Can you stop throwing things and just listen? Please?”

JJ did want to stop throwing things, but only so she could put her hands around Rayshawn's neck. She was so angry at him, and she suspected it was not just because of what he did with her contract but also because of all the other things he had done to hurt her. Things she had ignored or allowed him to brush aside. And with everything that had happened so far, she was too tired and too frustrated to have any more patience with him.

She closed the hotel room door with a slam.

“You have sixty seconds,” she said, folding her arms. “Start talking.”

“We only have a verbal agreement with the label for the tour extension,” Rayshawn said. “Nothing is in writing, therefore nothing is binding. That's the point of this morning's meeting—for you to sign.”

“That's my point, Rayshawn,” JJ snapped. “You didn't give me a chance to agree or not. I never got to decide if I wanted to continue with this tour or not.”

“That's fine,” Rayshawn said. “'Cause you're not signing on anyway.”

JJ's eyes narrowed. “I don't understand.”

“If you'd have a seat,” Rayshawn said, motioning to an armchair in the sitting area, “I could explain.”

JJ glared at him for a long moment, gaining a tiny bit of satisfaction from the way he twitched under her fierce look. When she felt he had suffered enough, she sat down on the nearest couch and waited.

He took a breath and chose the armchair opposite her.

“I told you, JJ, everything I do, I do for you,” Rayshawn began. “You know I care about you, but it's not just that. I know that you are talented. I know you're going to make it big. I believe it. And when I saw how they responded to you at the audition for Deacon and got the reports on how things are going on the tour, I knew we had to take advantage of that.”

“The label has you and all the other singers for She-La on a tour contract, which means that when the tour expires, so does their relationship with you. I did a little checking and realized that Kya and Diana aren't signed to any agency. In the past couple weeks we signed them with us. They are now under Franklin and Forbes management.”

“So basically you now manage almost all the members of She-La,” JJ said, beginning to catch the drift of where he was going.

“Exactly,” Rayshawn said, his eyes lighting up. “With everyone in one place, we can negotiate with you as She-La, versus individual members. Do you know how much more power that gives us? Especially now that they want to extend the tour and have to sign all of you on for the additional shows?”

“Yeah, I get it,” JJ said. “Now you can strong-arm Sound City for more money.”

Rayshawn shook his head. “You're still thinking too small, JJ. This is way past money. We're talking about your future here. She-La is making a name for itself with Deacon Hill. We don't want that to end with the tour. With all of you under the same management, we can negotiate for a development contract. We're talking about two, three years of label money and resources dedicated to making She-La the next Destiny's Child.”

The anger began to slide away as JJ started to understand the full picture.

“This is your future, JJ.” Rayshawn was now sitting at the edge of his seat, fully animated. “You told me you were tired of feeling like a pawn in everyone else's game. Well, this is the chance to make it your game.”

It was tempting. So tempting that she almost forgot that she was angry with Rayshawn. Almost.

“You're forgetting one thing,” she pointed out dryly. “You don't have Sabrina. And since her daddy owns the label, she'll never sign with you.”

“True,” Rayshawn said. “But the label is trying to extend this tour and finalize this agreement within three weeks. It's much easier to get one person to play ball than find three new band members. The numbers work in our favor. Besides, we're offering Sound City first dibs on giving us the development contract. If they agree, Sabrina gets to stay a part of the band.”

“And if they don't?”

“Torrina plays keyboard, and her contract with Jayla Grey is up at the end of the summer,” Rayshawn said with a shrug. “We'll dye her hair red and paint on some freckles.”

JJ almost laughed until the she realized that Rayshawn wasn't joking.

“You can't be serious,” she said. “You think you can just replace Sabrina with Torrina and no one will notice?”

“I do,” Rayshawn said. “And even if they do notice, no one will care. Think about it. Does anyone even remember who the original third and fourth members of Destiny's Child are? No. They only remember Beyoncé, the headliner. You're the headliner, JJ. You could be the next Bey. And all this drama around you and Deacon in the tabloids? That only boosts your stock.”

JJ couldn't believe what she was hearing. This was another of those reality-check moments where she was reminded that only about 10 percent of the music industry had anything at all to do with music. The rest was promotion, image, and fabrication.

“I can't listen to this anymore.” She got up and headed to the hotel refrigerator. She needed some juice, water, anything liquid and cold to snap her out of the craziness that was happening.

“I know this is a lot to take in,” Rayshawn said. “But you have some time to absorb it all. Like I said, no one's signing anything this morning. In fact, I'll be going with you to meet with Andrew. Kya and Diana are gonna meet us there. We'll request the modified contract then.”

JJ took a sip of the water in her hand and turned to look at Rayshawn. “You're really confident this will work, aren't you?”

“Completely.” Rayshawn leaned back, his hands locked behind his head. “They say yes? We have a developmental contract for two years. They say no? We have two other labels waiting to sign us on. This is a win-win for all of us.”

“And just out of curiosity,” JJ asked, her eyes narrowed, “who would be managing She-La?”

He grinned. “Who do you think?”

Two more years being managed by Rayshawn? She took another long gulp of water.

“Anyway, there will be lots of time to talk about this in the next couple days,” Rayshawn said. “Right now we need to get over to Sound City.”

JJ finished her water, her brain too numb to think anymore.

“Let's go then,” she said, walking over to the corner to retrieve her shoes. “Might as well get this over with.”

Rayshawn raised an eyebrow as his eyes ran the length of her ripped jeans and tank top. “Uh, not that you don't look great, but aren't you changing?”

“Why get dressed up?” JJ asked as she retrieved her purse and its contents from the floor. “With the mess you're about to start over there, why risk getting my good clothes dirty?”

Rayshawn smirked but got up and headed to the door. “I guess you do have a point there.”

JJ closed her eyes and whispered a quick prayer.

J
J had never heard grown men shout the way they did at Sound City.

It began with the frown that slid onto the label's lawyer's face almost as soon as all four of them walked into the narrow conference room. Andrew, Kate, and the lawyer had expected only two.

“What's going on?” the lawyer asked. “I thought we were just meeting with JJ Isaacs this morning.”

“There's been a slight change,” Rayshawn said, sliding his chair closer to the table.

Kate and Andrew exchanged a look that suggested they suspected what was about to go down.

Kate clasped her palms together. “Care to expand?”

“As you know, these three artists previously negotiated their contracts with Sound City individually,” Rayshawn began. “However, since they all are now under the management of Franklin and Forbes, we would like to negotiate their tour extension as a group.”

That's when the shouting started.

Andrew stood up, his face red. “You slimy son-of -a . . .”

Kate placed a hand on Andrew's arm. “These are not the terms under which this meeting was coordinated.” Her tone was clipped and her blue eyes icy.

“True,” Rayshawn said. “But there are now new terms. And I think all of us agree that there needs to be some renegotiation. We want a new contract. Not just for a few more weeks, but for at least twenty-four months, with terms related to the development of this group of women as a single commercial offering.”

“You mean you want a contract with She-La,” Kate clarified.

“I'm not standing for this bull,” Andrew raged, slapping the table. “George, get Hugh and Tony down here.”

The lawyer slipped away from the table to the phone in the corner as Andrew continued to grow more irate.

“You don't walk into our label and set terms. This is our label! We make sure you have work!”

JJ never knew Andrew could get so angry. She had seen the man get gruff on tour, but this was beyond anything she had ever experienced. Rayshawn, however, didn't seem the least bit ruffled. He was almost as cool as Kate, who said nothing but frosted them with her glare.

It wasn't long before the door opened and in walked Hugh Kelly. He was a wiry man with a permanent frown who looked like he'd had a hard life before he finally made it in the music business. In the car on the way over, JJ had done the research she should have done months ago, so she knew that the man who entered behind him, the one built like an NFL linebacker, was Tony Kelly. He was Hugh's only son and Sabrina's brother. He ran Sound City with his father.

“What's going on?” Hugh asked, his voice raspy as if overused.

“This little punk wants to give us terms for our artists,” Andrew snapped. “He wants to renegotiate as the band. Trying to get his filthy hands in the pot.” He glared at Rayshawn again. “You think you know what it takes to make it in this business, you good-for-nothing piece of crap? You were just born yesterday. You think you can come in here and interrupt our plans while we're trying to make something happen with this tour?”

“I'm just trying to get the best for my clients.”

“Your clients? You don't know the first thing about getting the best for your clients,” Andrew spat. “And you!” He raked his angry glare over Kya, Diana, and JJ. “You hussies were nothing before we gave you a stage.”

“Hey, watch your language with my clients!”

“Yeah,” Kya snapped, getting up. “Who do you think you're talking to like that, old man?”

“I'll talk to you however I want, you gold digger . . .”

JJ sank lower in her chair as they shouted across the table at each other. So this was what it was like to enter the twilight zone.

“Alright, alright,” Hugh said, sitting down and pulling a cigar from his jacket pocket. “Calm down, Andrew, you're about to give yourself a stroke.”

JJ watched Hugh. There was no way. He wasn't going to light that cigar in the room, was he?

“So you think you can write the rules, do you?” Hugh asked as he held the flame from a gold-plated lighter to the end of the cigar.

JJ watched in a mix of shock and awe as he puffed on the brown roll of tobacco before exhaling white smoke into the room. She was wrong. She wasn't in the twilight zone. She was in some weird 1980s mob film. Any minute now, Tony in his tight black shirt was going to jump Rayshawn and hold his face down to the floor until he signed the version of the contract that Sound City wanted.

“No, Mr. Kelly,” Rayshawn said. “I just want to discuss some new terms with the label and see what we both can agree on.”

Hugh nodded. “And the rest of you are okay with him negotiating for you?” he asked, motioning his smoking cigar toward Kya, Diana, and JJ.

The other two women nodded as JJ massaged her scalp.

Hugh took another big puff and sat back. “Okay, let's hear what you got.”

Andrew cursed and dropped back into his chair. Kate pursed her lips but opened her notebook. Kya looked pleased and Diana looked less frightened. JJ felt sick.

Deciding she'd had enough cigar smoke for one day, JJ stood. “If you'll excuse me.”

She didn't wait for a response and heard no objection when she stood up and left the room. What had started as a tingling in the back of her neck that morning had turned into a full-on headache. This crazy day had taken everything she had, and all she wanted to do was close her eyes and forget that she had ever heard of Sound City, Deacon Hill, and even Rayshawn.

A text message to Rayshawn was the only notice she provided that she was leaving before she asked the receptionist to get her a taxi. A scroll through Yelp found her a hotel where Rayshawn would not have access to her room and where no one would be able to find her until rehearsal for the next show began in two days. She couldn't leave LA yet, but she needed to escape. She needed space to think, to process. She had some big decisions to make, and this time she wouldn't let anyone make them for her.