“She back?” Darryl sat up straight, glancing at Carla. “Why didn’t you say shit? Where she at?”
“She’s not back, we found her notebook,” Carla replied, watching the hope in his eyes dissipate. “I helped Dexter make a couple of the verses more masculine and Bobbi hopped on the chorus. We can always replace her, but I don’t think she soundsthat bad. With the help of a sound coach, she can be the next Tyler.”
“Get the fuck outta here,” Darryl laughed. “I wouldn’t put her on a muthafuckin’ jingle to sell rat poison, let alone a song. Give me the notebook.”
“What?” Dexter finally spoke up. The notebook full of unreleased songs was his way back to the top. If Darryl didn’t want them, then he planned to shop them around.
“Tyler’s notebook. Give it to me. I can pass a couple of the songs to Amber. She has a nice voice, and Tyler writes nothing but hits. It’s a no-brainer, I can turn her into a star overnight.”
Standing to his feet, Darryl adjusted his tie and walked to the other side of the room. The request for the notebook wasn’t quite a request as much as a demand.
“Dex, you’re in the hole for over two million dollars. Fucking around with me, your great-grandkids will be paying for your mistakes. I wasn’t asking for shit, give me the notebook.” Darryl snapped his fingers.
“This gone make us even though, right?” Dexter asked, holding the notebook in the air. “If I give you this, then I shouldn’t owe you anything.”
“Nah, this will just spare your fucking life.” Darryl snatched the notebook from him. “Carla, you’re walking on thin ice. I don’t give a fuck how good you suck my dick, my money is something I don’t play about. You let the best thing that ever happened to this company get away and you think you’re about to leverage with me over some shit that’s rightfully mine?”
“Man, this some bullshit,” Dexter muttered.
“Yea, well you’re officially dropped from the label.” Darryl tapped on the table. “You’re dead weight and without Tyler, you ain’t shit.”
“What?” Dex jumped up, knocking his chair over. “I got a contract; you can’t drop me like that. You gone have to buy me out or something.”
“Buy you out?” Darryl guffawed. “I wouldn’t buy you a five-cent piece of Bazooka gum.”
“Wait a minute, guys, let’s talk about this.” Carla stood up. “Darryl, he did something good, that has to be worth something.”
“He’s supposed to get praised for stealing his ex-girlfriend's music?”
“I didn’t steal shit.” Dexter frowned. “She left it.”
“Yea, well it’s mine now. Yall are both dismissed. Dex, call my assistant to set up a payment plan, and I’ll be holding onto your car for collateral.”
“Man, what the fuck?” Dexter threw his hands in the air. “I’m not giving up my whip. You gone have to pry these keys out my fucking hand. This some bullshit. I brought Tyler to you. That should have wiped my slate clean.”
“And it did, but you started getting advances on albums that didn’t sell over 1,000 units. You asked for tours that didn’t make it past the second state, and you’ve racked up more damage fees than anyone on the label. You’re in the hole, my boy.”
“D, let’s be fair,” Carla begged.
“Fair?” Darryl knew she had to be joking. “I cut my own mama off. You think I feel sorry for a nigga that stole from his woman to make a quick buck. Drop the keys on the table and have a good day.”
“I’m not dropping shit.” Dexter stood his ground.
“Lil nigga, I’m not about to tussle with you. You’re either going to give up them keys willingly, or them niggas standing outside this office is going to take them, break about ten bones in your body, and drop yo ass off near the Detroit River. Your choice.”
“This some bullshit,” Dexter grumbled, removing his keys from his pocket and throwing them on the table. He didn’t bother saying anything to Darryl or Carla before storming out of the office. Dexter couldn’t wait to get his hands on Tyler. He blamed her for everything that was happening to him.
When the door closed, Carla rose from her seat and adjusted her skirt. She opened her mouth to say something, but Darryl beat her to the punch by holding up his finger.
"So, you was trying to extort me with this nigga?” He thumbed his nose.
“What? No.” Carla shook her head. “I’m trying to be the peacemaker.”
“Peacemaker my ass. You should have brought me the fucking notebook instead of having your blow-up doll looking daughter sing on a demo.”
“I thought-”
“You thought you was about to turn her into a star, huh? Now that your niece is out of the picture, you were about to make your daughter the puppet?” Darryl cocked his head to the side.
