Page 83 of Love Deep
“Is it busy up there?” I planned to bump into him and then put him under some pressure. I want him to know I’m onto him and there’ll be no more Mr. Nice Guy, no more ignoring the way he’s trying to steal the artists I’ve discovered and nurtured. I’m going to tell him if it doesn’t stop, I’m going to target him right back.
“There are always people up there.”
I nod. That’s understandable. The views from up there are the best in the Club. “I want to seize the moment. But at the same time, I don’t want a big public showdown.”
Byron steps over the threshold of my lodge and closes the door. “Grab your key and your phone and let’s go. You’re not going to have a big public showdown. You’re simply going to let him know he’s not going to fuck with you anymore.”
Byron’s right. Neither Gerry nor I are the type to make a scene. We’re both far too focused on our business.
“You need to seize the day. Do this now. I’ll walk you up there and I’ll keep Mr. and Mrs. Franklin talking while you speak to Gerry.”
We head over to the main building and my heart begins to race. If this was just one record executive being competitive with another about an artist, there would be no conversation to have at all, but this is different. Gerry’s been coming after me, on and off, for years, and I just don’t know why. But he needs to back off.
I see the back of his head as we enter the lounge. Having Byron to occupy Gerry’s friends means that I canspeak with him privately without pulling him to one side. It will look fairly friendly, but I’ll be able to tell him exactly what I want to.
“Byron.” Two people who I presume are Mr. and Mrs. Franklin stand as soon as they spot us. “How wonderful to see you. We didn’t know if we’d get to see you on this trip.” I study Gerry out of the corner of my eye, still sitting on the couch. I can tell he’s just realized I’m there and is working out how to play it when we’re introduced.
Byron shakes both of their hands and then introduces me. “This is one of my closest friends, Fisher Right.”
I shake their hands, grinning.
“And this is our good friend, Gerry Banks,” Mrs. Franklin says, as Gerry stands.
“Oh, Gerry, this is a coincidence,” I say. “Gerry and I go way back.”
Gerry gives a faltering smile. “Fisher!” he says, as he composes himself. “So great to see you. You were the last person I was expecting to run into up here.” He’s been watching Vivian closely, but judging by his expression, he truly wasn’t aware that I was here, too.
“It’s a small world,” Mrs. Franklin says. “Gerry found out we were coming and said he’s wanted to visit since he saw the opening-night pictures.”
“It’s a beautiful place,” Gerry says. “A real retreat. It surpasses all expectations.”
“That’s what we’re aiming for,” Byron says. “I wanted to ask you about your lodge,” he says to Mr. and Mrs. Franklin. “How are you finding the access to the hot tub…”
As Byron engages the Franklins, I turn my attention to Gerry. “So, you’re here to see if you can run into one of my artists, is that it?” I ask him. We might as well get directly to the point.
He narrows his eyes in mock confusion. “I’m sorry, what are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” I say, my voice low. “You’ve done this to me ever since we met back at EMG. You’re intent on stealing my artists.”
Gerry guffaws, but slides a glance toward the Franklins, confirming that he’s faking his laughter. “I’m just doing my job.”
“But you don’t do it to others,” I say. “Just me. What is it? If you’re trying to get my attention, Gerry, you have it. But this weird obsession with the artists I work with has got to stop.”
He’s silent for a beat. “This is business. I want to work with great artists. If I’m interested in your artists, you should be flattered.”
Neither of us is mentioning Vivian. If he does, he’ll give away that she’s the reason he’s here. And there’s no way I’m going to betray Vivian’s trust. Even if she’s probably on her way to the helicopter by now. Vivian wrapped up the album a little earlier than planned and decided to head back to London, given her location has started to leak. She said she wanted to quit while she was ahead. She’s a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to go after it.
I shake my head. “This isn’t about the artists. You know that. I know that. For some reason, you want to take what’s mine.”
He holds my gaze. It’s like we’re playing chicken. Is he going to admit what’s going on or am I going to have to go further, cut deeper?
“I think you’ve got things the wrong way around. You had what’smine, and I’m just leveling the playing field.”
“What?” I say. “Which artist that had any connection to you have I ever worked with?”
“I didn’t say you worked with one of my artists.”
“Right,” I say. “Because I haven’t. Deliberately so. I don’t want anything to do with you. So what’s your problem?”
