Page 123 of Love U Down II

“Three years max then.” She nodded in agreement. “But what’s in three years?”

“We can get your album out and tour in that time.”

“Because that takes priority over our family planning?”

“Nah. I wouldn’t say that. I mean, you can take that shit out yo’ arm tonight if you want and I’ll be okay with it.” I shrugged. “But when I met you, you were a musician and I don’t want you to ever feel like I’m trying to fuck that up for you. I want you to do all the stuff you want to do before we make a lifelong change like that.”

“And if I say I want it all and think we can do it all?”

“Then fuck it. Let’s do it… in about a year.” I cleared my throat and shifted in my seat.

Myome sat up and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Please don’t piss me off, Berlin.”

“Would I ever do that to my beautiful, perfect wife?” I lifted an eyebrow.

“You’re full of shit.” She laughed and we both looked over at the chef as he announced his arrival, two waiters with him.

They quickly set food, wine, and water on the table.

“Leave the bottle.” I reached for it and the waiter nodded as he handed it over. “And do you have something stronger back there? Dark preferably?”

“I’ll see what we have, sir.”

“Thanks, man.”

I watched as they quickly headed to the downstairs portion of the boat.

“You’re not off the hook,” Myome said as she plucked up her wine glass.

“I figured I wouldn’t be.” I gave her a small smile.

“So, go ahead. Tell me what’s in a year and why you look nervous for the first time since I’ve met you.”

“A’ight. The label needs money.” I tapped my knuckles on the table. “It’s not going under and we’re not going to have to open up for shareholders or no shit like that. We’re just spending more than we’re making, which I expected considering the only albums out are Merch, Rome, and mine and I’ve been giving pretty good signing bonuses and advances.”

“So we need to cut down on spending?”

“No. Fuck no. Whatever you want, you can get, Myome. I mean that shit. As your husband, I can provide for you. I’m gon’ provide for you. That ain’t a question.”

“If we don’t have the money––”

I cut her off. “We have the money. I promise. We’re not in significant debt and nobody’s checks are going to bounce. Worst case scenario, I may have to sell off some investments and dig into my savings for a little while, but we’re good.” I glanced at the waiter while he walked over with a short glass of ice and a bottle.

“Whiskey?” he offered.

I nodded once. “Sure.”

“Would you like me to pour it?”

“Nah. I got it.” I collected the glass and bottle, popped the bottle open, and filled my glass halfway. I waited until thewaiter was gone to set my sights back on my wife. “I’ve been considering going on tour.”

“For a year?”

“Four to five months, so about a third to half, two to three months in The States and two to three internationally.”

“This doesn’t sound like you’re just throwing the idea out, Berlin. It sounds like you’ve already started looking at venues.”