Page 315 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

“Sure,” I shrug, “three mil sounds great right now, but only desperation acts on fast cash without thinkin’ about the consequences. And how desperate do we look sellin’ out to the first offer on this song, one that goes against everything Callista stands for? We need to take a step back, handle our business first. The last thing we’re doing is bringing in a seven-figure paycheck only for that to disappear too.”

I can see the panic in Raymond’s head, trying to figure out how to maneuver his way out of this.

But I don’t let him—“Clementine’s license is off the table. No question. We need to address the bigger issues and open an internal investigation. I want to know exactly where every cent is going. If we don’t start taking care of the artists we have and laying a stronger foundation, brand deals only slap Band-Aids on bullet holes. A temporary fix.”

I turn to him.

“What’s your plan the next time we’re bleeding out? Throw another artist under the bus?”

I let the words hover in the air.

But they drop like bombs.

Raymond shakes his head slow

with an I-can’t-believe-this-bitch smile.

Like this is something I’ll soon pay for.

He laughs lightly when he says, “You have any idea how much an internal investigation will cost us?”

As if I’m idiotic for even bringing it up.

I lean in slow, palms flat on the table. “You have any idea how much no investigation is costing us right now?”

His brows raise, breath held.

Yeah, I'm definitely gonna pay for this.

To my left,

Gerald turns to another member,

says something so low I can’t hear.

“This is ridiculous.” Raymond’s nostrils flare. “You’re turnin’ down a three-million-dollar deal over some missing payments totaling less than three hundred grand.”

“And that’s downright embarrassing they haven’t been paid,” I say, glancing down at my phone as if I’ve got someplace to be, but it’s only to help stabilize my emotions, keep them in check.

I put it face down on the table and glance back up at them.

“How can we justify partnering with anyone when we can’t even keep our own house in order?” I jab my finger into a copy of the offer set in front of me. “We’re not going down that road now. Signing deals without resolving our internal issues? It’ll be the same old cycle. Sacrificing core values for a quick fix?” I shake my head. “Those are the types of emotional decisions that won’t fly here.”

The room falls thick with tension.

Gerald looks from me to Raymond, then lifts his hand. “I think it’s time it comes down to a vote.”

I slam the door behind me as I walk into the penthouse. My heart’s still shaking, still revved up from the meeting.

I hear someone in the kitchen before I turn the corner.

Andrew’s propped against the counter, arms folded, as if he hasn’t moved since I left a few hours ago.

“You weren’t at the hotel,” I say, dropping my purse on the island. “I drove all the way to the hotel, talked to your boss, who’s looking for you. She’s tellin’ me to let her know when I find out. ‘Cause your ass was supposed to be there an hour ago. Then I get roped in for, like, ten minutes hearin’ about the history of the automobile⁠—”

“Donnie?”

“Yeah. Donnie. And you weren’t there.”