Page 14 of Low love Low fidelity

“For what?” I asked.

“For you to do the album.”

I asked for clarity, “The whole album?”

“The whole shit,” Dale qualified. “Executive producer. Full LP. You determine the number of tracks and the producers you wanna call in to co-create with. I’ll even give you a credit.”

“One credit?” That was an okay start, depending on the other details. I just needed to fine-tune the specifics. “How much bread?”

Dale looked Luke’s way.

Luke placed his tumbler down. “Two seventy-five and another fifty for the EP role.”

“Fifty to executive produce the joint?” I laughed dryly.

“C’mon, man. Think about the whole pie,” Dale implored.

“Dawg, I just sold a track to Young Lord a month ago for one and a quarter.Onetrack. You’re asking for a full LP, which would be mostly my tracks. No disrespect to you, O.G., but that shit ain’t math’ing.”

Luke asked, “What’s Raj been giving you?”

“Something that would reveal just how low your ball is.”

Dale’s expression dropped. “Ah, c’mon. Now, I’m lowballing you? Don’t do that, Tobias, man.”

“Nah. I ain’t even gonna sit here and stunt on a whole legend. I’m flattered. I really am.” I placed my palm over my heart. “Truly grateful. I just have to make sure the details work well for me. Quarterback’ing a “Thriller”attempt or even a “Telling it All,” requires a lot of work on my part. It’s basically like spending a bunch of time with you, playing therapist and shit. I’ll need to see what’s going on in your heart and head to create a thematic album and provide authenticity. I won’t just be throwing a bunch of empty tracks from my vault at you and telling you to have at it. My preference is to start from scratch.”

“I know, man.” Dale exhaled, attention sweeping the area around us as his mouth twisted. “I ain’t gon’ front. I heard you had a process with Raj. I know you’re a beast in the studio…period, diggin’ into peoples’ heads. I’m willing to do what it takes.”

I checked the time on my wrist. “Then start with valuing me.”

“What do you want?” Luke asked again.

“Shit.” I sighed, scratching my brow while shaking my head. “For starters, to EP a Dale album with this expectation, I’m taking no less than two points. And two hundred seventy-five thousand dollars for six to eight tracks—depending on where this shit goes—ain’t gonna get it done. Fuck a EP fee. You can’t put a price tag on the passion I bring.” I sat up in my seat. “Speaking of passion,” I took a sip of the sparkling water. “I’ve gotta put some in action tonight. I’ll let y’all politic on the numbers, and get back to me. In the meantime, I’ll start drawing up a plan for the direction of the project.”

Once again, Dale and Luke looked at one another. Dale’s smile was faint this time. Luke’s expression ain’t give away shit.

As Troop’s “Spread My Wings” pumped through the speakers of the sunken-style family room, I dropped down the two-step entryway, twirling creamy pasta around my fork. Feeling her jovial mood, I rocked from side-to-side as I chewed. Lennox had changed into her pajamas: ivory silk pants and a purple terrycloth robe exposing her tiny waist.Damn. At five feet and three inches, and about a buck-thirty, the girl was fucking stellar. Her natural, wavy curls were blonde at the ends and a light brown from the root. The color combo worked well for the season.

While she danced as though no one was watching, I ate with butterflies shooting around my damn belly. I couldn’t believe she was here. Back in Jersey with me. And Lennox was dancing. After the hellish week she’d had—the shit she was currently going through—my girl was still able to find joy in a fucking singular moment.

When Lennox moved, swinging her arms in the air around the room, I smoothly moved behind her, around the furniture. She sang some of the parts, using the remote as a microphone. It wasn’t until she turned the corner of the sectional sofa that she sensed me. I froze, and Lennox turned around with wide eyes as she shrieked hard as fuck, covering her mouth.

I tossed my head back, laughing before catching myself. “I’m being an asshole. My bad.” Covering my mouth with the hand holding the fork, I tried hiding my humor.

“Tobias Lenart Elliott, you scared my lungs from my chest!” she panted, tapping down the volume on the remote. “Is this how you want to start this week? Do you not want to be roomies in this dope ass house you rented?”

Sobered by that fucking question, I straightened, swallowing my food. “Is a pig’s pussy pork, girl?”

Slowly, her eyes grew even wider, and her mouth fell open. Lennox looked to be ready to cry before she let out a hard ass laugh. “What did you say?” She grabbed her belly as she howled.

Grinning, I twirled more pasta onto the fork, being sure to catch a shrimp. “You heard me.”

“Boy! A pig’s pussy? Really?”

I shrugged. “What you know about Troop, youngin’?”

Slowing her laughter, but still exposing those sexy ass dimples, Lennox explained, “My neighbor, Trina’s mom.Duh!And you ain’t but a year older than me, son-son.”

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