This was a jab that scored. Though the suits kept their united front up and said nothing, it was plain to see that the thought of losing Celia’s tour income had hit them where they lived.
“It’s real simple guys,” Jake said. “Put your figures for touring on the table and let us hear them or this meeting is over. There is no way in hell we are going to blindly sign a binding contract for MD&P that is reliant on you fuckheads negotiating a multimillion-dollar touring contract in good faith when the contract gives you no good reason to do so.”
“I’m afraid we’re not prepared to put touring figures on the table at this time,” Doolittle said quietly.
“Then I guess this meeting is over,” Pauline said.
A minute later, their united front still standing, Matt, Jake, Celia, and Pauline left the office and went back to the elevator. No further meeting was scheduled.
They went to a nearby cocktail lounge to talk things over in privacy. Celia and Pauline both ordered mixed drinks. Matt ordered a beer. Jake had iced tea since he had to fly back to SLO later. All of them munched on bar peanuts and pretzels as they sat at one of the cocktail tables in the far corner of the nearly empty establishment.
“So, what happens now?” Matt asked. “You’re not really fuckin’ thinking about not sending me out on tour, right?”
“No,” Jake said. “One way or another, we’ll get you out on tour. We know that was a prime motivator for you to sign with us, and, quite frankly, there’s an assload of money to be made for all of us by getting you out there.”
“That’s good,” Matt said, visibly relieved.
“We’re just not going to let them bend us over and fuck us like that,” Pauline said. “Threatening to have you not tour while simultaneously threatening to cut them off from any revenue from Celia’s tour is our negotiating strategy. I’m guessing they will realize this and call me in the next few days to come to terms.”
“Yes,” said Celia. “But what kind of terms? It seems pretty obvious that they are obsessed with the touring profits. What kind of one-sided contract do you think they’ll offer?”
“God only knows,” Pauline said, “but you can bet your ass it’s not going to be anything close to what Aristocrat gave us on C’s last tour—or even what they’re offering for this one. If it had been that simple, they wouldn’t be afraid to lay the figures on the table.”
“What about the offer from Aristocrat?” asked Matt. “I mean, it sounded like shit when we heard it, but is it maybe sounding a little better now?”
Aristocrat had offered MD&P of both Celia’s and Matt’s new CDs for three hundred and fifty thousand per million CDs and thirty percent royalties on CD sales. They wanted a stipulation that KVA would negotiate with them first for a touring contract and that they would allow Aristocrat first refusal of such a contract as long as they matched the bid offered by any other entity. They, like National, had not thrown any figures for such a contract onto the table, but they also had not tried to tie the MD&P to the touring contract in such a blatantly favorable and legally binding way.
“We’d have to hear what Aristocrat is willing to accept for touring revenue division and then crunch the numbers,” Pauline said. “Keep in mind, however, that if we go with Aristocrat, National has already told us that they are going to demand twenty-five percent or they won’t let you do your earlier material. If you can’t do your earlier material, no one is going to pay a hundred dollars a ticket to come see you.”
“We can negotiate that shit down, can’t we?” Matt asked.
“Maybe,” Pauline said. “But I wouldn’t think we’d get them under twenty percent.”
Matt shook his head. “Twenty percent of my concert money just because those fucks own the rights to my fucking songs. This business fucking sucks, dudes!”
“You’re just now figuring that out?” Jake asked.
“What’s our strategy then?” asked Celia. “Wait for National call us and bring us back in?”
“I think that should be the overall strategy,” Pauline said. “In the meantime, however, I’ll give Flag over at Aristocrat a call and see if he’s willing to put some figures on the table. At least then we’ll have some solid numbers to think about.”
“Sounds good,” Jake said, fantasizing about the nice, tall, scotch on the rocks he was going to enjoy when he got home.
Gordon and Neesh had yet to meet the Kingsley’s little bundle of joy. Since Neesh was on a two-week sabbatical from her job at the law firm/sweatshop she was employed at, the couple had agreed to come visit Casa Kingsley for dinner and an overnight stay in the guest room. Jake gave the rapper a call on his cell phone as he drove to Pauline’s house after the meeting.
“What up, homey?” G enquired upon answering.
“You and Neesh still up for dinner?” he asked.
“Fuckin’ A, homey,” the rapper said. “Been looking forward to Elsa’s chicken parm all day.”
“Go ahead and head to the airport then,” Jake said. “I’m in Hollywood right now, heading over to Pauline’s for some quick business. After that, I’ll be heading there myself.”
“Sounds good,” G said. “Just don’t make us wait on your ass.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jake said with a chuckle. “And you don’t make me wait on your asses.”
He arrived at Pauline’s house and they went immediately to her office. She pulled a large manila envelope out of a locked drawer and then set it down in front of him.
“Here it is,” she said. “A complete background investigation on one Meghan Elise Zachary, date of birth October 24, 1976, former student at Cal Poly, current employee of KinderCare Incorporated, where she makes six dollars and thirty-three cents per hour caring for children. Please keep in mind that some of the information developed was not gathered ... well ... exactly in accordance with the laws of privacy as they currently exist in the United States.”
“I understand,” Jake said, and he did. Pauline had employed her long-time friend and security consultant Steve Marshall, who was always happy to do a little snooping around when the price was right, to find out what he could about their potential nanny. The information in this envelope had cost Jake $3500.
“All right,” she said. “Like I said earlier, she’s not squeaky clean, but she seems to be a good kid overall.”
“What do you mean?” Jake asked.
“No criminal history as an adult,” Pauline said. “She was arrested for shoplifting when she was seventeen, but the charge was dismissed by the first juvenile judge to hear the case. There’s a copy of the police report from San Luis Obispo PD in there and a summary of the judge’s decision. It looks like it was mostly a peer pressure thing. She and a group of friends were in the Target store in SLO and were caught by store security trying to exit the business with a bunch of beany babies in their purses.”
“Beany babies?” Jake asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Beany babies,” Pauline confirmed. “Remember them? They were quite the fad back in 1993 when this incident took place. I do not have information on what the parental reaction to the incident was, but there is a note from the judge that states that Miss Meghan seemed extremely remorseful for her actions, cried considerably as His Honor lectured her in juvenile court, and that he was confident that there was a low probability of her reoffending. And he was right. The only scrape with the law she has had since then was a parking ticket she got at the Pismo Beach pier in 1996. She paid it promptly and has committed no parking violations since.”
“Okay,” Jake said, nodding. “So far, so good.”
“It seems that she is heterosexual primarily,” Pauline said next. “Or at least there is no information to suggest she may be a lesbian or bisexual. She received a therapeutic abortion at the Pasa Robles Planned Parenthood clinic on May 11th of 1996 when she was nineteen years old. She was brought there and driven home by her sister. She was also treated for a case of gonorrhea in the same visit. It is worth mentioning as a piece of circumstantial evidence that that date is five weeks after a documented trip that Meghan took to Mazatlán, Mexico for Spring Break. Since then, she has had no pregnancies or cases of venereal disease that could be uncovered. She has been regularly filling prescriptions for Pro-G birth control pills ever since. And she has never again taken a Spring Break trip.”