"Mitchell and Drew."
"Cobra pays them. They knew it was a bullshit contract."
She lifted a fry to her mouth and lowered it when he said that.
"What?"
"Mitchell and Drew. They work for Cobra but discreetly. He used to hire them straight out. Have them come sit with you in the conference room but they got sued for that. Now they pay firms under the table to do their dirty work, convincing artists that their contracts are solid."
"But I picked them."
"After they asked if you had someone to look over the contract, right?"
Damn. How did I not know that?
"The day they presented the contract, I was on my way out. The receptionist told me congratulations and asked if I had anyone to represent me. When I said no, she pulled up a listand gave it to me. There were three on the list. She said all of them were entertainment attorneys and a few other artists had mentioned using them. That was a setup, wasn't it?" She sighed.
"Yeah, they pay all three I'm guessing but there's no way you would have known. They've gotten smarter about fucking people over."
"Sometimes I feel like this isn't meant to be my journey. It shouldn't be this hard. All I want is to do music and be left alone," Samari mumbled.
Asao frowned hard, shaking his head as he placed what was left of his sandwich down and rounded the counter, nearing her. "Nah, that's not what we're gonna do. If music is what you want and I know it is…" He wrapped his finger around her wrist and she felt something intense spike through her when his thumb brushed over the clef inked below his touch. "Then we're gonna figure out how to make this shit happen, the right way. Easy doesn't make hits, Samari. Easy is for the people who want quick money with no intention of existing beyond their next chart appearance. You want easy or you want to change the world? Make people feel, leave something great that will be legendary?"
"Are you rapping to me?" She smiled softly and he returned it.
"Nah, just speaking from the heart. Saying to you what I would want to hear if I felt myself losing thatthingthat drives me."
"Thank you."
He smirked arrogantly. "But I could turn that shit into something dope and let you lace it with your beautiful voice."
"Maybe."
Make music with Asao?
The thought had her pulse racing. She could see the two of them making something amazing. His lyrics and hers. Her mindwas already racing with ideas. Nothing, however, paired with the way her heart raced from how his eyes lingered on her.
"Come on, I want to show you my studio." He shifted his hand so his palm slid against hers and their fingers laced together. With a gentle tug, she was following him through his apartment.
It was nice, a newer model than hers but less lived in. The furniture appeared to be new, black microfiber sofas, soft gray tables a few shades lighter than the planked, distressed wood floors, and bare walls. There wasn't much else that added to the space.
The room he took her to, however, completely contrasted the area they’d just left. One wall was lined with album covers, the others had plaques and photos of Asao on stage, in the studio, and in clubs. There was a mic surrounded by pop filters set up, a soundboard, and black lights illuminated the space. Thick, cozy, dark rugs covered the wood floors and there was a sofa in the corner that looked soft and cozy, similar to an oversized bean bag.
"I take it this is where you spend most of your time?"
He glanced at her over his shoulder and nodded. "Yeah, most days, I eat, sleep, and work, which means I'm in here."
"That's why the rest of your place doesn't look lived in but here…" Her eyes swung around the room. It was cozy but slightly cluttered, with shoes, a few articles of clothing, and big pillows on the floor.
"You trying to say my shit is dirty, Samari?" Asao teased.
"No, just lived in. Out there you have stuff because it's necessary, in here, you’ve made it your home."
"I won't deny that. Sit down, I'ma play some shit for you and I want to run something by you."
She settled onto the sofa then pointed toward her feet. "You mind?"
"Nah, get comfortable. I plan on holding you hostage for a while." He winked and heat crawled up her neck but she pushed the feelings of attraction aside and kicked off her sneakers, bringing her feet up and crossing her legs at the ankles. She watched Asao move across the room to the small space that held his equipment. After hitting a few switches, low bass with a nineties R&B feel to it crawled through the air followed by his voice.
