“Five albums is generous,” I said. “And three hundred thou an album ain’t bad either. But I’m tryna build a life now, afamily, not just a catalog. Let’s make it three albums, three years. That’s all I can sign up for right now. We can evaluate where things are at the end of those terms.”
“Respect,” Blue said quietly as he tapped his brother on the arm. They made eye contact briefly before Dru turned around to face me.
Dru smirked, leaning back. “You serious about her, huh?”
“Dead ass.”
He looked at Blue again, then back at me. “We family men ourselves, so we get it. Three albums, three years, $300K.” He shook his head. “That’s a tight-ass turnaround, Quade.”
“I want to get in and out.”
“We can get on board with that, but we need three solid bodies of work. No filler projects.”
“I can do that.”
“Perfect. Ace got the bones of a contract.” Ace nodded. He already had his tablet out and a draft contract pulled up. “We’ll plug in the terms we just established. Three projects, three years, $300K each. You take it to your legal, have them comb it over.”
I glanced between the three of them and the computer screen. This was happening. I was hopping back into music. “I appreciate that. And I’ll have my people look it over, no question. But off record?” I sat back and exhaled just as laughter rang out from the distance, and Noa turned the corner. Her eyes immediately found mine, even through the glass. We were only staring at each other, but I could hear her words loud and clear. ‘You have to decide who you rap for.’ I nodded my head and gave my attention back to Dru.
“I’m in.”
“Word?” Dru broke into a grin.
“Word,” I replied.
“Well, shit,” Blue said, lifting his glass. “Then I guess we’re celebrating more than the grand opening tonight.”
“Welcome to Eight24!” Dru said, clinking his glass with mine.
“Quae Lo! Quae Lo!”the press photographers shouted as we walked the black carpet on our way inside the grand opening of Eight24’s new club. The cameras sounded like a round of applause as the flashes exploded from every direction. My fingers curled around the armrest of my chair, and I blew out a deep breath, one laced with fear and disbelief. I was really in LA, attending a star-studded grand opening event with my man, dressed in a designer gown, in my wheelchair. What was my life right now?
“You good?” Quade stopped walking and gazed at me from the corner of his eye.
“I’m fine,” I replied, looking up at him. He looked sexy as hell in all black. I smiled. I was so proud of him. He’d settled onthe terms of a record deal today, and it gave him full control of everything and a nice little payout. Quade was going to finally get back everything he’d lost.
“Quae Lo! Are you officially signed with Eight24?” one of the journalists called out, but Quade placed his hand on my shoulder and kept walking.
“You performed with YFN Money a few weeks ago. Now you’re being spotted out here in LA at another Eight24 event. Is this a sign of a comeback? Are you signed to Eight24 officially?”
“Y’all gon’ have to wait and see,” was all Quade replied. He was smooth and unbothered, like he was used to this.
“Who’s your date tonight? Is this charity work? Is she paralyzed? Is this an attempt to clean up your image?”
That made Quade stop walking and turn toward the cameras. That unbothered demeanor was gone.
“This is my date for tonight. She has…” He looked over at me for permission to say the next part, and I nodded. I was ashamed of a lot of things, but my lupus diagnosis wasn’t one of them. “She has systemic lupus. It’s a chronic illness, not paralysis. And she’s fine as hell, as you can see.”
The cameras snapped louder and faster, and the questions started right back up.
“So, by date, do you mean you two are dating? How’d you meet someone with that condition?”
“Are you her caregiver? Is that another one of your jobs?”
“What’s it like dating somebody with a chronic illness?”
“Y’all met while you were locked up?”
“Is this love or a PR rebrand?”
