"Such an illusion can foster great creativity, I'm told."
Casting grunted. "We need to discuss this in private," he said. "Where can we reach you?"
"I'll be at Jake's house until its time for me to go to the airport. Will you need to discuss it longer than that?"
"Probably not," Casting told her. "Probably not."
"Awesome," Jake declared. "Absolutely awesome, sis." He, Bill, and Matt had just listened to the tape recording of the meeting held on their behalf. He was once again respectfully awed by the notion that his sister really was a lawyer, and a damn good one.
"Fuck yeah," Matt agreed, holding up his beer in a toast to her. "You know, I always thought you were a tight-assed prude, Pauline."
"Oh yeah?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said. "And I still think that, but at least I now know you're our tight-assed prude. And you fuckin' rock."
"Uh... thanks, Matt," she said. "From you, I'm sure that is the deepest, most heartfelt compliment you are capable of."
"That's the way I mean it, hon," he assured her.
"I too must agree with my bandmates' assessment of your legal maneuvering," said Bill. "It was both effective and erotic."
"Erotic?" asked Pauline.
"Yes indeed," Bill said. "I, for one, fully intend to masturbate to your image at the first available opportunity."
"Uh... thank you too, Bill," she said. "Let me know how I do."
"I'll write out a summary of activities for you if you wish," he offered.
"Thanks, but that really won't be necessary."
"You sure?" Jake asked. "He's probably got a few pre-printed."
"Some other time perhaps," she said. "How about another drink though?"
"Fuckin' A," said Matt. "Mine's been empty almost two minutes now."
"I'm on it," said Jake. He turned toward the kitchen. "Yo, Manny! Get your ass out here! My guests are thirsty!"
Manny appeared a moment later, his face drawn and hiding considerable unhappiness. Living up to the court order issued by Remington, all services and supplies had been reinstated that afternoon, including the alcohol and drugs — which they easily could have gotten away with not reinstating — and the use of Manny as a servant. He had spent the day grocery shopping and cleaning, pausing only long enough to bring fresh drinks or work on the chicken cacciatore he had served for dinner. Jake had long since dropped any pretense of politeness toward him.
"Another round," Jake told him. "And be quick about it. Our buzzes are trying to fade on us as we speak."
"Yes, sir," Manny replied. "The same for everyone?"
"Naw, too easy," Matt said. "Fire me up a double martini this time. With two olives and an onion slice."
"I'll have some of Jake's chardonnay," Bill said. "Pour it on ice with 7-up and a cherry."
"Nerdly," said Matt, "that might be the faggiest thing I've heard you order yet."
Bill simply shrugged and picked up the marijuana pipe on the table. He took a large hit.
Jake and Pauline cut Manny a small break and simply requested more beer. Manny headed over to the bar and started mixing. About halfway through the process the phone rang. Manny looked at Jake.
"Don't just stand there," Jake told him. "Get the fuckin' phone!"
Manny stiffened but did what he was told. He trudged over and picked up the handset, which was located less than four feet from the couch where Jake was sitting. "Kingsley residence," he said. "May I help you?"
"It's so hard to get good help these days," Jake commented, taking the pipe from Bill and sparking up a hit of his own.
"Yes, Mr. Casting," Manny said into the phone. "She is here. Would you like to speak to her?" He paused, made a sour face, and then looked at Pauline. "It's Mr. Casting, Ms. Kingsley. He would like to speak with you."
Pauline smiled and took the phone from him. She was full of tension and trying not to show it. Would he agree to the terms? Would he tell her to fuck off? Had Frowley been able to convince him that the odds of her scheme succeeding were actually a lot longer than she was letting on? "Mr. Casting," she said, her voice calm and professional.
"Ms. Kingsley," he said, his voice the same. "I'm glad I was able to catch you before you left."
"So what's the verdict?" she asked, cutting to the chase.
"The advice of my counsel is to reject your offer and fight this out with you," he said.
"That's what I gathered. Will you be following the advice of your counsel?"
"I'm a man in charge of a large, profitable corporation, Ms. Kingsley," he said. "My job is to make money for this corporation, not to lose it. As you so eloquently pointed out, it would behoove me not to put the assets of my corporation — namely the recording contracts that produce a good portion of our income — at undue risk. If there is even a miniscule chance of the scenario you outlined coming to pass, I must take the option that protects those contracts."
"So you're agreeing to renegotiate the Intemperance contract?" she asked, daring to hope a little.
"If I did agree to such a thing," he said, "I could potentially be putting those very same recording contracts at even greater risk if word got out that we gave into you and allowed a first time contract to terminate. I would be swamped by other bands attempting the same thing. I cannot allow that to happen either."
"So what are you saying?" she asked.
"If we do this, it has to be completely secret. Completely. If a single word, a single rumor gets out we will deny it emphatically, cease all negotiations immediately, and go forth with the breach of contract suit for better or for worse. Do you think you and your clients can keep this a secret?"
"I guarantee it," she said, giving a thumbs-up to Jake, Bill, and Matt, all of whom were listening intently.
"All right then," Casting told her. "The lawsuit remains active until we come to a mutual agreement — if such a thing is possible. I'm warning you, however, we're not going to give much ground."
"I understand," Pauline said. "When would you like to start negotiations?"
"As soon as possible," he told her. "We want to get this done and over with and get those boys back in the studio where they belong."
Chapter 17A: Balance of Power
The back of the stretch limousine was filled with a thick, pungent could of marijuana smoke, a cloud so dense the passengers could barely see from one end to the other. All five members of Intemperance were back there as well as Janice Boxer, their publicity manager, and Steve Crow, the man identified as the producer of The Thrill Of Doing Business album and all the songs featured on it. There were two fat joints going around, the band members smoking them with enthusiasm, the two management types trying everything in their power to stop them.
"This really isn't proper," cried Janice, who had never smoked marijuana in her life (although she was suddenly starting to feel a little dizzy and thirsty). "We're on our way to the Grammy party! One of the most prestigious, exclusive black tie events in Hollywood!"
"We're dressed in black ties, aren't we?" asked Jake, who took the remainder of the first joint from Coop and inserted it into a sterling silver roach clip. He put it to his lips, inhaled deeply, and then deliberately blew the majority of the smoke out into the confined space after holding it in less than five seconds.
"We're all going to be reeking of this stuff," said Crow. "They're going to think I was smoking it too."
"You say that like anyone gives a monkey's cock who you are," said Matt.
"I'm the producer of Crossing The Line," Crow said angrily. Obviously this was a sore spot with him. "I'm just as much nominated for Record of the Year as you guys are."
"Yeah," said Matt. "You are. And that just goes to show how much of a fuckin' farce this whole Grammy Award concept is."
Janice and Crow both gasped as if his words constituted a blasphemy, which, to them, it did.
"A farce?" Janice said. "How can you say such a thing? The Grammy Award is the most coveted, most sacred of all musical honors!"