But she nods like she’s seen worse, which, now that I think about it, is probably true, given that they once practically lived out of a van. “Just so we’re caught up, getting fired was your grand plan?”
I tuck my shirt into my sweatpants in an attempt to look more professional and rub the nape of my neck. “Pretty much.”
“You fell on your sword for us,” Ripper says. “You’re a fucking hero.”
“Oof,” I grunt, as Kenny barrels into me from the side. “I’m just glad the album’s going to see the light of day.”
“You deserve a statue.” Kenny’s voice is muffled against my shirt.
“We realized something after Roger called.” The expression on Hannah’s face reminds me of the night we kissed at Guppy’s house: open, shyly admiring. Like she doesn’t quite know what to do with herself. “From the beginning, you refused to cut and run. When I quit the band, you stayed and put us back together.”
“Good lord, am I finally getting credit for that?”
“And now you’re doing it again.” She clears her throat. “We think you’re actually a lot better at nurturing bands than you are at nuking them, Reaper. Sorry to burst your bubble.”
I can’t tear my eyes from her.
“I personally think getting fired is the best thing that could’ve happened to you,” Ripper announces.
“Oh yeah?” I pat Kenny and he releases me, wiping his eyes. “I’ve tried calling fifteen people I thought were my friends in the industry, and none of them have picked up. Roger was serious about blackballing me. What’s so great about that?”
“Because now you get to start your own label,” Ripper says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t laugh,” Hannah warns. “This is actually all of our idea.”
Kenny flops down next to Ripper on the couch. “Break it down, Rip.”
“Okay, so listen.” Ripper holds up a finger. “Roger was your corporate daddy, right? You loved him so hard because you were trying to replace your abandonment daddy.”
I look accusingly at Hannah.
She turns to Ripper. “I thought we agreed you weren’t going to phrase it like that?”
“But what you need to do now is become yourowndaddy.” Ripper beams. “Then you can never be disappointed. That’s some mad therapy wisdom right there.”
“For the love of God, Ripper, never say the worddaddyto me again.”
“I’m just saying it’s some insight you should mull over.”
“Daddy talk aside,” Hannah cuts in, “the idea is solid. Fuck Roger, fuck Manifest, and fuck all these guys who won’t call you back. Be your own boss.”
“Then you wouldn’t have to be anybody’s Grim Reaper anymore,” Kenny says.
“Fixer,” I correct.
He ignores me. “You could concentrate on the parts you like best, like making albums. We saw how happy you were in the studio. That’s what you should be doing.”
“If these industry people are going to be rude to you,” Hannah adds, “then just do what you always do and become so good they can’t deny you.” There’s sly humor in her eyes. “Like what you did with us. By the way, I heard the Saints fulfilled their contract and are free agents again. In case you’re interested.”
My heart soars, but I tamp down my hope. “You can’t choose me over resigning with Manifest, or another big label. That would be insane. You’re stars now.”
“What,” Hannah says, “you’re the only one who’s allowed to be loyal?”
I can’t look away from the blue of her eyes. It feels like something important is happening, like—most improbably—my life is changing in the middle of a stupid pelican-themed hotel room.
“We’ll sign to your new label on one condition,” Ripper says. “You name it Suit Records.”
