one out of a hat.”
“It’s Ronni,” she says, in that whiny irritating voice of hers.
I give her a hard stare. “It’s Bria.”
Jeremy joins us from the bar. “More songs mean more money, guys.”
Ronni finally stops giving me the look of death and addresses all of us. “Remember, I call the shots, or did you forget what you signed? Listen, boys …” She glances at me in disgust. “Listen, people, I’m going to get you on the radio. I’m talking serious airtime, not just the three AM lonely-hearts hour. IRL may be a small indie label, but this isn’t our first rodeo. You saw my car, right? You have to trust that I know what’s best for you. You do that, and one day you could all be driving cars like that.”
Three years. We have to put up with this self-righteous bitch for three years?
“First things first,” she says. “We need to upgrade your rehearsal space. This place is unacceptable. And it smells.”
“What? No.” Crew stands and moves around behind our chairs in a show of solidarity. “That will cost money. Money we don’t have yet. This place is free and available to us twenty-four-seven. And believe it or not, the acoustics are great.”
She pats the seat next to her, as if calling her dog. Crew glances at me and then sits back down.
“Okay, I’ll give you that one. But I’ll expect you to remember how accommodating I’ve been.”
“Is that all?” I ask.
It seems to pain her to look away from Crew and at me. “Of course that’s not all. Do you think I’d drive all the way out here for a five-minute conversation?” She narrows her eyes. “You’ll have to cut your hair. It’s too long.”
I touch it protectively. “I’m not cutting my hair. There was nothing about that in the contract.”
“We’ll see about that,” she says. “You should also get some highlights.” She touches Crew’s jaw. “This I like. The five-o’clock stubble is sexy. Keep it.”
She goes through the rest of her demands, which are more along the lines of what I expected. An hour later, she shakes hands with all the men, her highly-manicured paws lingering on Crew longer than they should for a friendly handshake.
I put my hand out. She shakes it as if I have cooties.
“We have a lot of work to do, boys … I mean, people. We’ll meet again at the studio. If you need anything, call.” She hands her business card directly to Crew. “I mean it. Anything.”
“Bye, boys,” she says on her way to the door. With her back turned, she raises a dismissive hand. “Bye, Brianna.”
“Veronica,” I say dryly.
She pauses but doesn’t turn around. I get the idea this is going to be how it is with us.
Liam closes the barn door behind her. “Well, that was interesting.”
“She can be a lot to take,” Jeremy says. “But IRL is our best shot right now.” He tucks her notes into his binder. “I’ll see you Friday night. Oh, and I hired someone to set up for you. Beginning next month you’ll no longer be hauling your own equipment from the van. He’ll also be your driver.”
“How much is that going to cost us?” Crew says. He glances at me like he’s thinking how hiring extra labor means more out of my pocket that’s already empty.
“Let me worry about the budget,” he says. “We want to present a certain image, and you setting up your own equipment reeks of mediocrity. You have to spend money to make money.”
“When is the making money part supposed to happen?” Brad asks.
“These things take time,” Jeremy says. “You need to trust me. More importantly, you need to trust Ronni.” He opens the door to leave, and I see the dust cloud trailing behind Ronni’s car.
“Dude,” Brad says to Crew after Jeremy is gone. “That woman wants in your pants.”
Crew shrugs like he couldn’t care less.
Brad backtracks. “Sorry, Bria. No disrespect.”
“How are things between the two of you?” Liam asks.
“We’re good,” Crew says. He goes to the stage, turning when nobody follows. “Oh, come on. You saw the material, right? You have to admit it’s amazing.”
Garrett twirls a drumstick. “It’s great, but we need one more.”
“Seriously? We did our job. Ronni sprung the fourteenth song on us. We should at least rehearse while we’re here.”
“Time better spent on the last song,” Liam says. “Besides, I’ve got work to do. I’ve got to write all the music for the ones you gave us yesterday.”
“You’re kicking us out again?” I