“And how’s the love life?” Laura asked her next. “The last you told me, you were thinking about giving that limo driver a ride of his own.”
Celia actually blushed a little. “Madres de Dios, Teach,” she said. “I wasn’t serious about that. I was just fantasizing out loud after a few too many glasses of wine.”
“You seemed serious to me,” she said with a giggle. “And I’ve seen him. He’s driven Jake and I around a few times. He’s attractive. And he’s single too.”
“Yeah,” Celia said, “which means he’s probably gay. In any case, the problem remains the same. I don’t have a connection with him that way. It’s a nice fantasy, but I’d never actually do it.”
“That’s too bad,” Laura said consolingly. “I bet he has an impressive gearshift.”
“Laura Kingsley!” Celia said. “I cannot believe you just said that!”
“Sorry,” Laura said with another giggle. “I’ve been spending a lot of time with Jake lately.”
They made their way toward the living room, where the meeting was to be held. Celia pondered her love life—or lack thereof—a bit during the journey. She still had had no male sexual companionship since that last night with Greg all those many months before and still had no prospects for any on the horizon. She did still get together with Suzie once a month or so—Suzie was now pilot-in-command of a Gulfstream that flew on-call out of San Diego—but those were only stopgap encounters. She was grateful for them, and still enjoyed the softness of a woman, but she was craving the firmness of a man quite badly at this point.
Everyone was already seated and ready when they arrived at the living room. Pauline and Obie sat on one couch while the Nerdlys sat on another. Jake was seated in one of the recliners watching Tabby and Kelvin play with toys on the floor. Tabby was teaching him the intricacies of the See and Say Farmer Says toy. Kelvin’s favorite animal on the wheel seemed to be the pig, which was perhaps a bit ironic as he was a practicing Jew.
Hugs and greetings were exchanged and drinks were offered. Celia accepted a glass of wine, which Pauline fetched from the bar. They then talked a little about Jake and Laura’s recent vacation and their stay with Laura’s brother in Pocatello.
“His youngest daughter, Chastity—Chase for short—worships you, C,” Laura told her. “She has your poster in her bedroom and everything.”
“In the bedroom you slept in?” Celia asked. “You mean I was looking down on you two in action for three nights?”
“You didn’t see much,” Jake said sourly. “Laura closed down the attractions for the duration of that little trip.”
“There was no way I was going to ... you know... do it in my nieces’ room,” Laura said defensively.
“You poor things,” Celia said with false sympathy. “You had to go three whole days without it? I can’t even imagine.”
They all had a little laugh at that. Even Kelvin and Tabby seemed to find it funny.
“Anyway,” Laura said. “When they come out in April, they would love to meet you, C. Especially Chase.”
“I can’t envision being unavailable for that come April,” Celia said. “I’d love to meet them.”
“Yay!” Laura said, clapping her hands a little. “I’ll let them know the next time I talk to them.”
“All right then,” Pauline said. “How about we start talking some business here?”
“Let’s do it,” Jake agreed. “We need to be out of here by 1:15 at the latest.”
“It shouldn’t take that long,” Pauline said. “First things first. Brainwash II. Aristocrat has agreed to our terms, including the provision that they promote Lighthouse to the best of their abilities when their debut CD is complete. They did not even argue the point much.”
“I think they’re starting to actually have faith in my ability to find and promote a new band,” Jake said. “They didn’t fight us on it because they know there’s a pretty good chance that I came up with another Brainwash for them.”
“Yes,” Pauline agreed. “That and the fact that we’re giving them forty percent for Lighthouse sales and we’ve agreed to pay for fifty percent of a tour if such a thing is deemed feasible and necessary.”
“There is one thing I should mention about Lighthouse at this point in the discussion,” Jake said.
“What’s that?” asked Obie.
“They are no longer called Lighthouse,” he said.
“Excuse me?” asked Pauline. This was the first she had heard of this.
“I did an internet search on the name,” said Nerdly. “It turns out that there is already a Canadian band out of Toronto named Lighthouse.”
“I’ve never heard of them,” Obie said.
“I’d never heard of them either,” Jake said. “They were at their peak of popularity back in the early seventies, mostly in Canada but with some crossover into the US. They do still exist and still tour today, again, mostly in Canada. If we release a CD by a band named Lighthouse, we could potentially be in violation of a Canadian copyright. And even if we’re not, it could create confusion. The band has agreed to change their name.”
“To what?” asked Pauline.
“They’re still talking it over,” Jake said, “but they’re leaning very heavily in favor of V-tach.”
“Vee tack?” asked Obie. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Ted came up with it,” Jake explained. “It’s apparently some kind of really nasty cardiac arrythmia that kills people. The actual name is ventricular tachycardia, but those in the medical field just call it V-tach. The letter V, a dash, and T-A-C-H.”
“It does sound kind of cool,” Pauline offered.
“And I think it does go more in line with the kind of music they’re making,” Jake said. “To tell you the truth, I never really cared much for the name Lighthouse anyway. It just seemed too ... oh ... easy listening for the genre they’re setting.”
“Okay,” Pauline said. “I don’t think that will change anything as far as our agreement with Aristocrat goes. I will need to inform them, however.”
“Just remember to also inform them that they have no say in the name-change,” Jake said. “None whatsoever. Remember, these are the same people who wanted me to call myself JD King and for Matt to call himself Rajin Storm. They don’t have a good track record on shit like this.”
“That was National that suggested those names,” Nerdly pointed out.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jake said. “A record company suit is a record company suit. They’re all cut from the same mold.”
“True,” Nerdly agreed. “I was just striving for strict accuracy of the facts at hand.”
“And we appreciate that,” Jake said. “In any case, I met with the boys at the studio yesterday and had them go through their repertoire for me. They’ve been working hard this last month, getting together at least five times a week to nail down their tunes. They’re clicking well and they’ve got eighteen solid tunes for us to choose from. My plan for this week is to start culling that number down to the ten that will be on the actual CD.”
“That’s good to hear,” Pauline said with a smile. “How are they doing financially? Did they already burn through their advance money?”
“They’re hanging in there,” Jake said. “They were all very nervous about quitting their regular jobs back when we recruited them for the TSF. In fact, we almost lost Ben because he was so reluctant to lose his safety net. But between the money they made from us paying them hourly for the TSF rehearsals, the money from the TSF itself, and the advance money we laid on them when they signed, they’re all keeping their heads well above water. They should be fine until their first royalty checks roll in.”