C’mon, Justine, let me buy you a drink. You and I are about to become new best friends.”
“We are, huh?”
Ash raised a hand to flag the bartender. “We’d better become friends, don’t you think? After all, we share him now.” He tipped his chin in Dillon’s direction and she turned to look. As she did, Dillon glanced over and smiled at the two of them. And Justine knew Ash was right. Whatever this was with Dillon, he was her friend, they were connected. Not as long as he and Ash, and not as deeply, but it was certainly something. Regardless, she was staying put in his life as long as he’d let her.
“Yes, I guess we do share him now.”
Mark Bennett sighed and pressed his fingertips into his eye sockets. It was supposed to be a quick meeting, just cleaning up some tour details with the label’s new darlings. He should have known nothing was ever easy with these guys.
“Are you crazy? They’re not even signed.” As soon as he’d come in, Dillon had slapped a CD of some no-name band into his hand and said he’d found the band that would open for Outlaw Rovers on the tour.
“So they’ll be cheap. You guys should like that, right?”
“Dillon,” he sighed. “I appreciate that you’re a big fan or whatever, but this is not how it’s done. We’ll cull a roster of potential acts and discuss the options with you—”
“Or we can stop wasting everyone’s time and offer it to Failsafe.”
Dillon crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at Mark, who he’d never really liked. The guy was the worst kind of corporate shill, glossed over with a thin sheen of musical respectability. There wasn’t a single genuine thing about the guy.
“No one even knows who they are!” Mark snapped.
“They should! Trust me, the audience will thank us when they hear Justine sing.”
“With all due respect, that’s not your call to make. We have acts in mind, bands we’re cultivating and would like to advance in the right circumstances. We’ll be looking to position one of those acts with you on the road. Not some untried local band no one’s ever heard of.”
Dillon let out a huff of frustration and spun away, stalking across the green room. Now he knew he hated Mark. Who the fuck used expressions like “with all due respect” when they were talking about rock? He liked Jon Verlaine, their Artists and Repertoire man at Nightfall. They’d been wined and dined by a line of slick A&R guys from all the major labels, but Jon was the first one to talk about music like a musician, the first one who seemed to really get what they were trying to do. Jon didn’t take them to dinner at the hottest new French restaurant, he took them to an underground club to hear the hottest new indie band. That won over Dillon and they’d signed with Nightfall. But so far, every other person he’d met there had been a complete asshole, right up to Mark Bennett.
Dillon thought he had it all laid out. He was sure once he played the CD, once they heard Justine sing, there’d be no argument. He’d forgotten this world didn’t work that way. There were corporate plans in place that had nothing to do with talent or even what the band wanted. He gritted his teeth at having to take orders from a weasel like Mark.
“So, can I assume this issue is resolved?” Mark said after a moment.
JD cleared his throat and Rocky reached up to rub the back of his neck, neither one willing to wade into the dispute.
“Not quite.” Ash unfolded himself from the armchair in the corner. He’d been laying back, seeming to barely pay attention to the argument happening over his head. Now he straightened up to his full height and shook back his hair. His chin was up and his eyes were sharp, focused only on Mark. Even Dillon was a little intimidated and he’d known Ash all his life. Mark certainly sat up straighter. Ash pointed a finger at the CD that Mark still held, although he seemed to have forgotten it. “That’s the band opening
“We are, huh?”
Ash raised a hand to flag the bartender. “We’d better become friends, don’t you think? After all, we share him now.” He tipped his chin in Dillon’s direction and she turned to look. As she did, Dillon glanced over and smiled at the two of them. And Justine knew Ash was right. Whatever this was with Dillon, he was her friend, they were connected. Not as long as he and Ash, and not as deeply, but it was certainly something. Regardless, she was staying put in his life as long as he’d let her.
“Yes, I guess we do share him now.”
Mark Bennett sighed and pressed his fingertips into his eye sockets. It was supposed to be a quick meeting, just cleaning up some tour details with the label’s new darlings. He should have known nothing was ever easy with these guys.
“Are you crazy? They’re not even signed.” As soon as he’d come in, Dillon had slapped a CD of some no-name band into his hand and said he’d found the band that would open for Outlaw Rovers on the tour.
“So they’ll be cheap. You guys should like that, right?”
“Dillon,” he sighed. “I appreciate that you’re a big fan or whatever, but this is not how it’s done. We’ll cull a roster of potential acts and discuss the options with you—”
“Or we can stop wasting everyone’s time and offer it to Failsafe.”
Dillon crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at Mark, who he’d never really liked. The guy was the worst kind of corporate shill, glossed over with a thin sheen of musical respectability. There wasn’t a single genuine thing about the guy.
“No one even knows who they are!” Mark snapped.
“They should! Trust me, the audience will thank us when they hear Justine sing.”
“With all due respect, that’s not your call to make. We have acts in mind, bands we’re cultivating and would like to advance in the right circumstances. We’ll be looking to position one of those acts with you on the road. Not some untried local band no one’s ever heard of.”
Dillon let out a huff of frustration and spun away, stalking across the green room. Now he knew he hated Mark. Who the fuck used expressions like “with all due respect” when they were talking about rock? He liked Jon Verlaine, their Artists and Repertoire man at Nightfall. They’d been wined and dined by a line of slick A&R guys from all the major labels, but Jon was the first one to talk about music like a musician, the first one who seemed to really get what they were trying to do. Jon didn’t take them to dinner at the hottest new French restaurant, he took them to an underground club to hear the hottest new indie band. That won over Dillon and they’d signed with Nightfall. But so far, every other person he’d met there had been a complete asshole, right up to Mark Bennett.
Dillon thought he had it all laid out. He was sure once he played the CD, once they heard Justine sing, there’d be no argument. He’d forgotten this world didn’t work that way. There were corporate plans in place that had nothing to do with talent or even what the band wanted. He gritted his teeth at having to take orders from a weasel like Mark.
“So, can I assume this issue is resolved?” Mark said after a moment.
JD cleared his throat and Rocky reached up to rub the back of his neck, neither one willing to wade into the dispute.
“Not quite.” Ash unfolded himself from the armchair in the corner. He’d been laying back, seeming to barely pay attention to the argument happening over his head. Now he straightened up to his full height and shook back his hair. His chin was up and his eyes were sharp, focused only on Mark. Even Dillon was a little intimidated and he’d known Ash all his life. Mark certainly sat up straighter. Ash pointed a finger at the CD that Mark still held, although he seemed to have forgotten it. “That’s the band opening
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