Brad’s leaving. After tomorrow, we won’t have a label, and who knows when we’ll go on tour.”
I hold up the check. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I don’t want you all capitulating because of me.”
“Are you crazy?” Crew says. “First thing tomorrow, we’re marching in there and giving Ronni the check.” He laughs. “I can’t wait to see her face.”
“Jeremy will find us another label,” Garrett says. “I’ll bet they’ll be fighting over us.”
Brad straightens. “Liam, your uncle just walked through the door.”
Dirk is coming straight for me. I stand. “What the hell are you doing here?”
He pulls a chair over and sits. “I have a proposition for you.”
“How’d you know where to find me?”
“Ronni may have overheard you talking about Garrett’s party.”
I sit and pick up my drink, tossing it back in a single swallow. “You’re not invited. You should leave.”
“Don’t you want to hear what I have to say?”
“Anything you needed to say to me, you could have said at IRL earlier.” He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, something I’ve never seen him do. Dirk always has an air of superiority about him, but not today. “This has something to do with Don, doesn’t it?”
He doesn’t respond.
I laugh. “Holy shit, you heard about the fight. You’re scared. Don turned up, and now you think he’s going to ruin your shot at being governor. Is that it? Or maybe he’s blackmailing you. He needs money, right?”
“How much will it take?” he says sternly.
“For what?”
“For the video. How much for the video?”
I laugh again. “Dirk, there isn’t any amount of money that would make me give it up.”
“What if I sell the company?”
“I’d say you’re too late.”
“I’m a businessman, Liam. If I know anything, I know it’s never too late to negotiate.”
“Hold on a sec,” Crew says. “What if there was something in it for both of you?”
I cock my head at him. “How so?”
He picks up the envelope and drags me out of Dirk’s earshot. “Dirk can sell the company to Garrett, and you give Dirk the flash drive. You never wanted to release the video anyway. This way, you both win. He’ll be off your back, and we can run IRL the way we want. We wouldn’t have to find another label. We could go forward with the tour.” He smiles deviously. “We could fire Ronni.”
I don’t even have to think about it. “Okay, let’s negotiate,” I say to Dirk and sit down. “You’ll sell the company to Garrett.”
Everyone is surprised to hear me say it, especially Dirk, who says to Garrett, “I didn’t realize you were in that sort of position.”
“He’ll give you a million dollars for it,” I say.
Dirk sneers. “IRL is worth ten times that.”
“Maybe so, but it’s what we’re offering. And that part is non-negotiable. How much do you think the video is worth? Or your career in politics—what’s the price tag on that?”
He rubs his forehead. “It’s not even close to fair.”
I push a shot across the table to him. “Then I’d say drink up, because tomorrow the world will see exactly what kind of man Dirk Campbell really is.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.” I get in his face. “After facing your asshole brother on Saturday, you have no idea of the rage inside me.” I glance at Crew and Ella. “Ask these two what I did to Don’s old house. It’ll never be the same. Just like you won’t be when the media gets wind of what a lowlife you are.”
I see the tremor in his hands. I’ve got him over a barrel, and he knows it.
He stands angrily, his chair toppling over. “Be at IRL at ten tomorrow morning. Bring the money and the video. You’ll be asked to sign an affidavit, stating it’s the only copy, and a non-disclosure agreement concerning anything on the tape or overheard in my home. Got it?”
I raise a glass. “See you at ten.”
He leaves, and the rest of us stare at each other, stunned.
“What the hell just happened?” Ella says.
“What happened is Garrett is about to become the owner of IRL. We’re out from under Dirk’s dirty paws, and Ronni will get the boot before the goddamn ink dries.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Crew says.
Ella leans close and whispers, “What about Don?”
“Don can go to hell. I doubt he’ll bother me anymore, but if he tries, I’ll know about it. His wallet fell out of his pants at the club. Crew looked at his license and found the name he’s been living under—Curtis Wingate.