Page 112 of Just Wait

It’s the room Mal, Riser, and Kincaid dropped their stuff in, anyway. I also didn’t see him in the living room, and he didn’t come with Mal into the primary bedroom, so if he’s not here, I have no idea where else to look.

I knock lightly as the hold music plays, but Kincaid doesn’t answer.

I finally give up, letting myself into his room.

It’s almost completely dark with the shades pulled, but there’s a tiny strip of light coming in from the middle where the curtains don’t overlap. I use that to help me navigate.

He’s in here, based on the lump on the mattress closest to the door and the smoky, nutty hazelnut scent that I know belongs to him.

It takes a lot of courage to approach him, but I stop next to the bed, plant a knee on the mattress, and gently shake him. “I’m so sorry to bother you.”

Kincaid’s arm wraps around my lower back. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” His voice is low and raspy, lined with sleep.

“Nothing,” I say softly. “But the lawyer called. I’m on hold. You said you would talk to him with me to make sure I donʼt miss anything important…”

“Yeah, of course.” He pulls his other hand to his face, rubbing his eyes as he sits up, displaying his bare chest. He pushes on my lower back, and I sit on the edge of the bed. “Once you’re connected, put him on speakerphone.”

I nod, licking my lips.

Even from the moment he wakes up, he manages to be all unapologetically dominant, and dammit, I love it. It makes me feel like I can relax and let him be in control.

“So, you’re saying what?” Kincaid asks as I hold my phone between us. “That it’s not worth pushing for a more aggressive offer?”

“Not necessarily,” Mr. Hawthorne says. “We can play this as friendly or aggressively as you’d like. My main concern is that none of the songs have been recorded yet. Less money has been spent bringing them to life. Essentially, there’s less investment on the label’s part. If we push too hard, they may decide it’s not worth the effort. There are a million and one unscouted bands that could be the next big thing. Any one of them wouldn’t have this hassle attached to them.”

“If I push too hard, you think the label will drop Tangled Desires?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from cracking.

I might be furious with Theo, but I care what happens to all of them. Remmy’s mom is disabled, and his dad is really old. Like past the age he could have retired, but he hasn’t because they can’t afford for him to. Remmy planned to use his payday to finally pay off their house.

Jesse has a brother with cerebral palsy. Deacon was living in his car for like three months before he and Jesse moved in together right after Jesse stayed with us.

None of us had fantastic lives, and I won’t rip their chance at financial freedom away from them.

I wouldn’t want the risk of that kind of karma on my soul. I already feel like I must have done some pretty bad shit in a past life that I’m currently paying off.

“That’s exactly what I believe will happen,” Mr. Hawthorne says. “I’m not saying I don’t think I can get you a better offer. They owe you either way for the usage of your songs up to this point.”

My head shakes. “I don’t want to risk them dropping Tangled Desires. I’ll sign the contract.”

“Wait a second,” Kincaid interjects. “The label has deep pockets. Tangled Desires is blowing up. I’m sure you can get a better offer without risking the execs cutting and running.”

“Definitely,” Mr. Hawthorne says. “This was an introductory offer. There’s always room for negotiation. I just want you to understand that it’s likely not going to be the forty to a hundred grand per song that Andrew was used to for writing credit.”

My jaw drops.

Forty grand per song?

Up to a hundred thousand dollars?

Holy fucking shit.

“Test the waters,” Kincaid says. “I mean, if that’s okay with you, Lumen?”

“If I sign, does it prevent me from being able to create my own music or work for other record labels in the future?”

“It does not, and as of now, there is no right of first refusal clause on any future works, but I’ll let you know if that changes as the negotiations progress,” Mr. Hawthorne says.

“Okay,” I agree. “But I don’t want to piss them off. Be gentle, please. I don’t want to ask for too much and mess everything up.”