23
I’ve got to admit when Evan asked me to meet with him I was a little suspicious. Okay, I was a lot suspicious, but with good reason. I’ve not really had a good track record with Dreya’s men. Her last real boyfriend tried to push up on me and got knocked out by Sam, so when Evan reached out to me for an alone meeting, at dinner no less, it made me wonder.
I’m sitting across the table from Evan at Justin’s Restaurant trying to read his mind. He looks on edge, so I’ve got some nervous anticipation of whatever whammy he’s going to drop. The look on his face tells me he’s got something on his mind.
“I bet you’re wondering why I invited you here.”
“Not really,” I lie. “I think you heard Dreya’s record and you want to congratulate me on another hit.”
Evan chuckles. “Sunday, I love your confidence.”
“Thanks, Evan, but something tells me you’re not here to shower me with compliments.”
“I’m here to ask a favor of you.”
I knew his true purpose would emerge. “Okay. Out with it.”
“Will you do a summer tour with Drama? With her being pregnant, she’s going to have to promote her new record well in advance of the release date. We’re putting out a single at the beginning of March.”
“Dang, that’s in a few weeks.”
“Exactly.”
I groan. I had imagined summer, on the beach in Florida. Hanging with my friends, dancing, partying, and drinking non-alcoholic beverages. Maybe watching a movie or two and pigging out on fried chicken, pizza, and cheese fries. You know, a real break. Touring is hard work, and I’ve been working enough for ten people. I need some rest!
“There’s a rumor going around that Epsilon Records is dropping Dreya from the label, so why would they put money behind her to fund a tour?”
Evan’s eyes widen as if he’s surprised that I have this information. I expect him to ask me to reveal my source, which I will refuse to do.
“They aren’t putting the money up. I am.”
This is an interesting turn of events. I didn’t expect Evan to have Dreya’s back like this. From what she told me it seemed like Evan was almost in on the whole getting-her-dropped-from-Epsilon thing; now he’s taking on an out-of-pocket tour.
Evan continues, “I see the confusion on your face, so let me explain. Even though Epsilon is pulling out of Drama’s future, I still believe she has what it takes to be a star. If I have to release her independently, I will.”
“And the marriage? Is that for real or is that a publicity stunt?”
Evan pauses for a long time before responding. “It’s not a stunt. Is she the love of my life? Nah, probably not, but she’s carrying my child, and that means something to me.”
“And if she sells a lot of records, pictures from the wedding and photos of your royal baby . . . ?”
“It’s all good. Money in the bank. If it doesn’t work out between us, we can go our separate ways. No harm, no foul.”
I don’t know about the no harm, no foul part. Who knows how that’s going to affect her if they end up divorced? He’s making it sound like some kind of business proposition and she’s thinking it’s a fairy tale. Her knight in shining armor is wearing money green, ’cause that’s all he seems to care about.
“Even if I did say yes to a tour, I don’t really have anything to promote. I haven’t even started working on my next record.”
“Well, Bethany would go with you as well. You all could sing the collaborations off your records and do some new material or old. I really don’t care. I just want you all billed on the flyers.”
“What about Dilly?”
“He’s not ready yet. You three are already legitimate stars. If there’s anyone that I may drop from the Reign label it’s Dilly. I trust that you won’t say anything about that.”
Ugh! I can’t stand when people drop secrets on me without warning. Dilly is my friend, and apparently, I’m still his prom date. Now that I know that his career is in danger, should I suggest he start applying to colleges?
“I won’t say anything.”
“The tour would be mostly on the East Coast. We’re going to do a contest for those who purchase a download of her single at the concerts. They’ll be able to win an autographed concert T-shirt and some other stuff that won’t cost us anything.”
“So this is about driving the sales for Dreya’s single.”
“For the most part.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“You’ll get paid a percentage of ticket sales. You are the top-billed artist on the tour, so you’ll get ten percent of the sales, Dreya will get five percent and Bethany will receive two and a half percent.”
A wide grin spreads across my face. “You sure know the way to my heart, don’t you?”
“Yep, it’s through your pocket.”
“I’m a homeowner now, so I could use all the extra money I can get.”
Evan smiles. “I heard. Congratulations! I hope that my fiancée and I are invited to the housewarming party.”
“You sure are. I’m registered at Macy’s, so make sure you bring something nice.”
“Sunday . . . can I ask you a question?”
I take a sip of my soda and reply, “Sure, but I won’t promise to answer.”
“Do you trust me yet?”
That is a question with a very complex answer. If he’s asking about music and the industry, I’d have to say that my trust of him is growing, but not yet confirmed. If he’s talking about with Dreya’s heart, I’m going to have to say a big fat no.
“How about you don’t give me a reason not to trust you? Then I think we’ll be okay.”
“You’re one tough cookie, Sunday.”
I give him another smile. “I have been called much worse.”
Suddenly, Evan narrows his eyes and glares across the restaurant. He makes a quick hand motion to Leo, who’s sitting at the next table. The big, brawny dude jumps up and moves across the restaurant so quickly that he reminds me of a mountain lion.
Leo stops in front of a table full of garden-variety groupie chicks. He snatches the cell phone from the one in the middle, presses some buttons, and then hands it back to her.
“Hey, that’s my personal property!” the girl screams loud enough for half of the restaurant to hear her.
Leo says something back to her, but he says it quietly, and the girl gets up and follows him to our table. Leo sits back down, relaxed now, but ready to pounce again if the command is given. I need a bodyguard like him.
The girl stands in front of Evan with her legs akimbo and her hands on her very curvy hips. “What do you want with me, Evan?”
“If you had wanted to take a picture of me, all you had to do was ask, Tina.”
She sneers at him and then me. “I didn’t just want a picture of you. I wanted a picture of you with your . . . let me think . . . side piece.”
Evan shakes his head. “Sunday, meet Tina, all-around evil chick and main blogger and photographer for Black-CelebrityGossip. com.”
She extends her hand. After a very long pause, I shake it, but it is not a friendly handshake at all. This girl prints lies about me on the regular, so I can’t say that I have any love for her.
“Pleased to meet you,” Tina says.
“Likewise,” I say through clenched teeth.
Tina laughs out loud. “I don’t believe you. You need more people.”
“I’m not an actress, I’m a singer,” I reply.
“You are saucy! You should be a blogger. We’d love to have a celebrity insider correspondent.”
“If you published the truth, maybe we could have that conversation.”
Tina steps back a couple of times like a boxer being punched. “Ouch, Sunday! Can’t we all eat? We tell the gossip we hear, and if our informant doesn’t get it all the way accurate, we always issue a retraction.”
“Girl, bye.” For a split second I think about demanding a retraction to that foolish story they wrote about me cheating, but I decide it’s not worth it. Everyone on campus knows it’s not true and obviously I’ve not been kicked out of school.
“Evan, you should tell your artists that they should play nice with the Internet bloggers. We can make you, sweetie, and when we don’t want to play with you anymore, we can and will break you.”
Leo rises from his seat in a menacing manner, but Evan gives him a hand signal and he sits back down.
“That’s right, call off your muscle,” Tina says. “Especially if you don’t want me to report your apparent business meeting as a romantic tryst with the first cousin of your future bride.”
“You wouldn’t,” Evan hisses.
“I would. I’m not on your payroll, so I eat where I can.”
Evan shakes his head. “I called you over here, because I am looking for a blogger to leak some exclusive content for me.”
Tina pulls up a chair from another table and sits. “Tell me more.”
“I’ve got some of Drama’s tracks that we’re not using on the album. They’re good, but we just went a different direction.”
“What’s the catch?” Tina asks.
“It has to be a streaming link, no downloads.”
She nods. “Okay. I can do that. Do you mind if we embellish a bit on how we came by the tracks?”
“As long as you don’t try to make anyone in our camp look bad.”
Tina giggles, “I’ve got a much better idea than that.”
“All right then, bet. My assistant will make sure that you get what you need.”
“Good doing business with you, Evan. You’re the best. Sunday, it was so nice meeting you. I wish it had been on better terms.”
I just give her a gangsta-like head nod. I refuse to acknowledge this bottom feeder as someone legitimate. In my book, her type is the lowest of low.
Evan gazes across the table at me, with a slight grin on his face. “Tell me Sunday, do you still trust me?”
This time I don’t reply. This behavior with Tina and her grimy blog is beyond questionable. But maybe this is just the seedy side of the music business that I never see. I think of all the leaked tracks that bloggers magically discover and wonder if it’s all a setup.
And if it’s all a setup then who is holding all the cards?