My Billionaire Secret Santa: Clean Billionaire Romance by Cate Remy

Author:Cate Remy [Remy, Cate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-12-02T16:00:00+00:00

“Well, what do you think?”

Jackson finished reading the stack of papers that comprised of Romero’s proposed contract changes. He set the tome on his desk and looked into the faces of the R&B artist and the attorney flanking him. “You have quite a few changes you’d like to make.”

Romero rested one ankle over his knee and steepled his hands. His pinky ring caught the light. He seemed to be entranced by it for a second, taking a moment to admire the diamonds that outlined a platinum R. “So we’re good, right? I get four record deals?”

“Mr. Munsen, you haven’t recorded any new music in three years. You still owe the company an album under your current contract.”

“I’ve been using the time to get inspiration.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing?” Jackson brought up a spreadsheet on his laptop. “According to the studio accountants, you borrowed eighty grand for a trip to Kuala Lumpur this past spring.”

“That was for my client’s new song,” his lawyer defended. “It has an Asian-inspired, futuristic theme. He needed to immerse himself in a true cosmopolitan city to produce it.”

What was wrong with Uncle George for signing this guy? He let artists go off on their own whims and cause the studio to bleed money. Jackson wasn’t buying Romero’s story. He addressed the artist’s lawyer. “Do you have your client’s travel receipts?”

“Hold up.” Romero got defensive. “Old George said I didn’t need them.”

Jackson began to get a headache. “Where’s this new futuristic, cosmopolitan song?”

“Like I said, I needed inspiration. I’m still working on it.” Romero leaned back in his chair. “Good music takes time. George knew that.”

Jackson closed the spreadsheet. This meeting was getting nowhere. “Mr. Munsen, I’m going to cut straight to the point. You owe the studio an album. Until you give it to us, there won’t be any new record deals.”

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

Romero made a signal to his lawyer. The man nodded before turning to Jackson with a stern look. “Mr. Barnes, we understand that you’re adjusting to your new role as CEO. You may not be aware of how the music business works.”

Jackson tapped a finger on the desk. “I understand how my uncle ran this company based on promises and pinky swears with the artists. Those things are going to change. Is there anything else before we end the meeting?”

“There is one other thing. Our client wants access to the company song vaults.”

“Vaults?” Jackson pictured a large, sound proof walk-in structure like the ones used for high-security banks.

“There was a song he and the former executive were working on.”

None of this sounded right to Jackson. Unless his uncle took up songwriting in his last days, there might be another reason why Romero wanted into that vault. He needed to check it out for himself first. “I’m still accessing the vault. I’ll contact your client when I’m finished.”

Romero stood up fast. “What, you don’t trust me?”

His lawyer stood, too, and uttered quiet words to calm him down. Jackson shut down the laptop and rose, buttoning his blazer.

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