Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 103008 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103008 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
I hang my head. “They’re flat-out refusing to produce an album with a new sound?”
“They’re convinced it won’t perform well. They said if you really want to go that route, that you can with your next album … under a different label.”
“They’re threatening to drop me?”
“You’re contracted for one more album. There are clauses in the touring section of your contract that say if your sales are below a certain level, you won’t tour. But even with a shitty-selling album, I don’t think Harley Valentine could ever sell below the threshold.”
“So, let me get this straight. I have to record the songs they force me to, tour when they tell me to, and I get absolutely no creative control? Even after all these years of loyalty?”
“It all comes down to money,” Gideon says.
“What will it take to get out of my contract for the second album? Is that an option?”
“Whoa-ho-ho, no. God no. You don’t have that amount in net worth let alone liquid assets.”
“Are you sure? Eleven still has royalties coming in, and my first solo album is still in the charts.”
“Let me run the numbers, but you know how hard Mason had to fight to get out from under Joystar when Eleven broke up.”
“Can you check Eleven’s contract and let me know if I’d be stuck to the label through an exclusivity clause or not? Or did my new contract negate the old one?”
“Your new contract negates that one. The only time it would be a problem is if Eleven wanted to get back together, but that’ll never happen, so that clause doesn’t matter.”
I purse my lips. “I’m not saying I want to get back together with the guys, but can you look at what it’d take to release Eleven as an act from the label?”
Gideon is silent.
“Gideon?”
“Has one of the other guys contacted you or something? Why would you want to look at getting back together when you have everything?”
It’s not like I’m desperate to get back together with them or anything, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it at all. I liked performing with them, and I didn’t realize how much of a support system we had until it was gone. Ryder always jokes about doing it when we’re forty, and if that does happen, I want to be able to do it on our own.
“If I’m preparing to leave, I want to cut all ties. Completely. They’ve fucked me and the other guys over so much already. I want to walk away with everything.”
“Leave me with it.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, go back to your vacation.”
I scoff. “You think hiding out is a vacation? Remind me to never go away with you.”
“Trust Trav to do his thing. He knows what he’s doing. It’ll all be over soon.”
Everyone keeps telling me that, and yet Webber is still evading him. My faith is wearing a little thin.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Brix
“Everything okay?” I ask when Harley reemerges from the bedroom.
He went in there to talk to Blake, but the conversation must not have gone well by the look on his face. I stand from the couch.
“With Blake?” I clarify.
“Oh. Yeah, I didn’t call him. I was on the phone with Gideon. The label is still refusing to negotiate.”
I hate his label with everything that I am. I hold out my arms for him. “I’m sorry they’re dickheads.”
Harley wraps himself around me. “They’re so dickheads. Oh, also, Jamie’s on her way out here. There are papers I need to sign for an Evah thing.”
I stiffen, and Harley pulls back.
“What? What’s wrong? You don’t still think it’s her, do you?”
“No. I mean, of course not.” I might.
My phone starts ringing. “It’s Trav.”
The hope in Harley’s eyes is heartbreaking because I don’t think this is the call we’ve been waiting for. Gut feeling again.
I hit Answer and don’t put it on speaker. “Update?”
“Get Harley into the safe room.”
What the fuck?
I try to keep a passive expression, but Harley’s face falls. Either he heard it or I’m not good at hiding my panic.
“What’s happened?” I grab Harley’s arm and drag him toward Trav’s bedroom.
“We were watching the hotel footage when we got a hit on Webber’s credit card.”
“Where is he?” I growl.
“Gas station.” He pauses. “In Rancho Mirage.”
He knows where we are.
There’s a knock at the front door, and Harley and I flinch.
I push Harley down the hallway. “Trav, get your asses here ASAP,” I bark into the phone.
“On it. Don’t kill him until we get there.”
“Can’t make any promises.”
We disconnect the call.
“What’s happening?” Harley asks.
“Well, I’m assuming that’s Jamie at the door, but Trav tells me Webber’s in town, so I’m not taking any chances. It can’t be a coincidence.”
“W-what?”
“I’m going to put you in Trav’s room. It’s the most secure. It has safety bars on the windows, a dead bolt on the door, provisions in the closet, and—”