He sat on a black leather sofa in Brendan’s office at the club, going over contracts that might as well have been written in Greek because he sure as shit didn’t understand what they said, and Matt wasn’t stupid by any means. It kept the suits busy in their swank high-rise offices downtown, he supposed.
Whatever, man.
The only reason he needed to be here was to hand over the check. If Brendan and Phil said everything looked good, then it was. He trusted them implicitly.
“I drew up a new LLC for the property.” Okay, he knew what that was. Venery formed a corporate entity for the studio and their indie label, Euphonia Records. “This way, the band and the club are separate entities—for tax and liability purposes.”
“Gotcha.” He tossed the stack of paper onto the table in front of him. “Is that what all this gibberish says?”
“Pretty much,” Phil said with a polished grin. Why do all lawyers look the same? Starched shirts and silk ties so tight around the collar that they had to be cutting off oxygen. “And now that the contract’s been accepted, I’ll need a check for the remainder of the escrow deposit.”
Matt patted his breast pocket. “I’ve got fifty k right here.”
Insane. Considering there was a time when he couldn’t have come up with fifty cents.
“And here’s ours,” Brendan said, scribbling out a check. The Byrne cousins were partnering with them.
“They want to close in thirty days. Is that going to be a problem?”
“Financing is taken care of.”
“Excellent. Then, you’re all set.” And after returning the documents to his briefcase, the attorney stood. “Well,gentlemen, I’ve got to get home to the wife, but I’ll let the seller’s side know you made escrow.”
“Thanks, Phil.”
“Anytime,” he said, shaking their hands. “I’ll be seeing you.”
While Brendan saw him out, Matt made himself a drink. They just handed over a hundred grand like it was peanuts, and in the grand scheme of things, it was because they’d have millions into this thing before the doors ever opened. He swallowed the whiskey, reminding himself that their plan was a good one, and the investment was sound.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?
Right.
“All right, my brother.” And Brendan poured a drink of his own. “It’s time for us to get to work. We’ll start with the interior demo in February.”
We?Matt glanced down at hands that hadn’t seen manual labor in years.
“We’ve got people who do that, you goof. Jesse has a crew lined up already.” With a shake of his head, he swallowed the shot. “But we’ll have plenty of other things to do that would require everyone’s input, like building plans, branding, a name. Anybody come up with one yet?”
“Nope.” They’d been tossing names around, but nothing they’d come up with so far had hit quite right.
“We’ve got time,” Brendan said, adding another shot of whiskey to each glass. “UMG sent your dates over a little while ago.”
“Yeah?” Though at this point, Matt had a pretty good estimation of the timeline.
“The album is going to come out on Friday, May third, but they want to drop a few songs starting in March.”
It’s always on a Friday.
“Told ya, didn’t I?”
“You were right.” They clinked glasses and drank. “Your new producer will be here in January to record.”
“I was good with the one we had, but hey, it’s their dime.”
And UMG had no qualms about spending it. They installed new recording equipment in their studio just last week. World-class. All the latest technology. But the best part was they’d be recording at home, where they were most comfortable, the familiarity of the Park Place studio reminiscent of those days in Bo’s basement.
“You’re slotted for Germany and Download in June.” He knew that. The festivals were announced months ago. “Then, you get July to rest up. Tour starts August first, here in Chicago. They’ll announce it in January, and tickets will go on sale in March after the first track drops.”
