Trials and Tiaras (Untouchable #7) - Heather Long Page 0,97

the building we were standing outside of. To be honest, I’d kind of lost track. They all looked the same. Not that it wasn’t cool, but they weren’t exactly palatial.

“Come on, Angel,” I said, holding out my hands. She let me pull her to me and tuck her under my arm. “I wanted to talk to you about some stuff tonight, anyway.”

“Oh, that sounds ominous.” She blinked wide eyes at me before she crossed them and wrinkled her nose. A chuckle rumbled up from my chest as she cracked up. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

Coop and Jake had started slinging snowballs at each other behind us, so we slowed to let them burn off some energy. A part of me kind of wanted to join them, but I had Frankie and I wanted to talk to her more.

“It’s not,” I told her as I pressed my lips to her temple just below the knit cap she wore before tugging it down a little more securely. “It’s about a music contract we got offered.”

You know, it was important to me to have all the answers, and Archie and I had discussed a lot of it. I had a fairly good understanding of what they were asking us for. It didn’t just affect Frankie and me. It affected all of us.

“Wait,” she squeaked. “What?”

I grinned down at her, even as Coop slid to a halt and Jake dropped the snowball he’d been about to fling. “Did you just say contract?” Coop asked.

“Yep,” I answered both of them, but I kept my gaze on her. It was twilight, and the sun had begun to vanish rapidly, taking the daylight with it. The temperature was dropping, so I squeezed her shoulders and got us moving again. “The producers who listened to the demos really liked them and they are offering us a contract—us, as in you and me, not you one and me one.”

“So, like a contract for us together?” Her voice took on that breathy quality it got when something baffled and surprised her.

“Yes, Angel. For us together. I told you, we were doing this together, and as it turns out, the producers agree with me.” So as we made our way back to the car, I told them about the deal we’d been offered.

It was for twelve to fifteen original songs and possibly the recording of three different covers. They had suggestions, and we could offer our own. They had song writers we could work with or do our own stuff. Once we submitted the songs and they signed off on them, we’d have to do studio time to record them.

Then there was information about promoting and selling and possibly touring with another band or doing some local spots in Los Angeles and New York. It had all seemed like a lot when I’d first gotten the deal. But now, after going over it a few times with Wittaker and Archie, it seemed the producers were demanding a great deal. Like what we were being asked for didn’t match what they planned to do for us. “It sounds like a lot…”

We were back at the rental car, and Frankie stared at me, mouth slightly agape.

“I know it seems like a lot,” I repeated. “It is. But we just address it one step at a time, and we’re not signing anything until the attorneys are done looking at it. Wittaker’s consulting an entertainment lawyer, who also can serve as an agent to protect us and make sure we’re not screwed if this doesn’t work out.”

“Or I buy out the contract,” Archie said. “Either way, both of you are protected.”

Frankie hadn’t said anything, she just stared at me and then at Archie and then back to me. “Ian Rhys.”

I straightened like someone had yanked my strings. Frankie never used my full name, and I couldn’t decide if that was hot or terrifying.

I leaned somewhere firmly in the middle.

“You got a contract offer from an actual music company, label, thing?”

“We,” I stressed that word. “We got an offer. There’s no me if there is no you. Not for this.”

Lifting her gloved hands to her lips, she steepled her fingers and stared at me. “We,” she said slowly, the words just a little muffled, “got an offer from a record label thing?”

“More or less,” I answered slowly. “I know it’s probably not the best timing and you probably have a hundred questions…”

I didn’t get to finish the rest of that thought. I had an armful of