“Is this Angel Garcia?”
“Yeah,” Angel said, covering his forehead with his hand.
“You’re a hard man to get a hold of Mr. Garcia.”
The voice on the other end was booming, and Angel wished he would just shut up. “Who is this and what do you want?”
“My name is Ron Ableman. I’m CEO of Falcon Records.”
Angel sat up at attention. Everyone in the music industry knew Ron Ableman. The man needed no introduction. His reputation preceded himself.
“I looked for you last night, but you were nowhere to be found. I saw your set. It was phenomenal. And you should know that I rarely scout out talent myself. I made the exception last night.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m not going to mix words, Mr. Garcia. Falcon Records wants to represent you. I know Galaxy and Freehold have already been in touch with you. We were all waiting for you in your dressing room after the show. But I want to meet with you today. Right now. Are they willing to go into the office on a Sunday afternoon? I don’t think so. But I am. That’s how serious I am about an offer.”
“I can be there in an hour.”
After Angel scribbled down the address and hung up the phone, he jumped in the air and hollered. Then he remembered that Mr. Ableman said two other records companies were also trying to reach him. He returned their phone calls and made appointments for Monday morning, but his gut told him it was only a formality. He would sign a contract with Falcon Records today.
He ran upstairs and smacked Tommy on his bare butt cheek. “Wake up, my sleeping prince! Wake up!”
“What the fuck! Knock it off, Angel!” Tommy was cranky and hung over and didn’t bother to pick his head up from the pillow.
Jessi still hadn’t moved. Angel grabbed her arm and shook it. “Jessi, wake up.”
He let go of her arm and it fell over the side of the bed with a thump. He stared at the two of them. Tommy looked like he was in a coma. Jessi looked dead.
His own hangover miraculously disappeared as soon as he heard the news of a possible record deal. Maybe it would do the same for them, or at least give them a reason to open their eyes. “You two better wake up. We’re meeting with Falcon Records in an hour.”
It took Tommy a few seconds to react. First he rubbed one eye, and then he bolted upright. “What’d you just say?”
“I just got off the phone with Falcon Records. We’re meeting Ron Ableman in an hour, and we have appointments with Freehold and Galaxy tomorrow. I had six messages on my phone from last night.”
“Oh my God! Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”
“Nope.” Angel looked over at Jessi. She was still passed out and hadn’t moved. “You better make sure she’s breathing.” Jessi was hammered last. Visions of her tossing back shots with everyone at the bar took the humor out of his statement. He panicked. He ran to Jessi, picked her head up and held her face in his hands. He frantically called her name. She stirred and moaned, but still didn’t open her eyes.
“Jesus Christ. You scared the fuckin’ shit out of me, Jessi.” He headed to the bathroom to shower. “Wake her up,” he told Tommy over his shoulder. “We gotta get going.”
Five minutes later, Jessi jumped in the shower with him. She kissed him and shoved her tongue in his mouth. She tasted sour. Rotten. It was the taste of alcohol fermenting in her mouth all night. It revived the nausea from his hangover and he turned away.
“Jeez, sweetheart, gargle or something first.”
She covered her mouth with her hand and the color drained from her face. Her cheeks went from a healthy rosy hue to ash white in a fraction of a second. She ran out of the shower and promptly vomited in the toilet.
The smell of puke hit Angel and made him queasy. He thought he might heave right there in the shower. He called to Tommy for help, but he didn’t know if Tommy heard him or not over the running water.
Jessi looked pathetic. She was still huddled over the toilet and looked miserable. He couldn’t leave her there. He went to her, rubbed her back and put a wet cloth on her forehead. She sat back on the cold tile bathroom floor and held the towel to her head. He squatted next to her, dripping wet, with his junk hanging between his legs almost touching the floor.
Tommy strolled into the bathroom, full dressed and ready to go. He stopped dead as soon as he saw Jessi on the floor. “Are you alright?” He knelt down and looked into her eyes. “Did you take something last night?”
“I don’t remember. I’m . . . I’ll be OK.”
Angel and Tommy helped her to her feet. She looked a little better, but Angel wasn’t sure. He needed her at the meeting with Mr. Ableman. He couldn’t do it without her. He put his hands on Jessi’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. “This is the most important day of our lives. Pull it together, sweetheart. I need you.”
Angel didn’t think Jessi was going to make it, but she sucked it up. She was a pro, and she dressed like one, too. She wore a waist length black jacket with two center buttons. The sleeves were made out of leather and the top half of the lapel, the part that went around the back of her neck, was also made from leather. It looked sharp against the color of her hair. She wore the jacket with a simple black pencil skirt. It was short, mid thigh, and a neat row of studs were embellished down each side. She looked professional, but with a rock and roll edge. Angel complimented her on the outfit, and he was flabbergasted to find out that she made it herself. She really needed to market her own clothing line instead of putting all of her energy into the band.
The corporate headquarters of Falcon Records was located on one of the top floors of Rockefeller Center. The plush office had an air of old money – dark ornate wood moldings, rich maple flooring, large impressive desks and floor to ceiling windows to brighten up the imposing décor.
The receptionist greeted them with polite and cheerful indifference, even though it was obvious she wasn’t happy about being called in on a Sunday afternoon. She escorted them to a massive set of mahogany doors. Before she had a chance to knock, Mr. Ableman stepped outside his office. He was the epitome of a rich corporate executive – expensive dark grey suit, gold cufflinks, stark white shirt, matching grey tie and that was probably a Rolex on his wrist. Tall and astute, his posture lived up to his reputation. Fine lines at the corners of his eyes and dark hair, peppered at the temples, portrayed years of wisdom. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Mr. Garcia.” His handshake was firm and commanding.
Mr. Ableman eyed Tommy and Jessi with displeasure. “I need to make something clear. This meeting is with you, not with the other members of your band.”
Angel’s stomach tightened. He had a sinking feeling that this meeting wasn’t going to be as easy as he originally thought. He needed to be just as assertive as Mr. Ableman. “I don’t go anywhere without my assistant.” He nodded towards Jessi. “She comes in with me.”
As Angel walked into Mr. Ableman’s office, with Jessi behind him, he looked back at Tommy, who was standing perfectly still and appeared to be holding his breath. Angel dipped his head. It was gesture of reassurance and he hoped Tommy understood what it meant.
Mr. Ableman sat in the leather chair behind his impressive baroque desk. The curtain of windows behind him offered a backdrop of Central Park. He clasped his fingers together and placed them on the top of his desk. “My daughters have been telling me about you for years, Mr. Garcia. I wish I would have listened to them sooner.”
“Your daughters?” Angel shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“My daughters. Audra and Kira. They’ve been trying to persuade me to listen to you sing, but, quite frankly, I thought they were exaggerating. I had no idea that that you were really as talented as they boasted. They speak very highly of you.”
“Audra and Kira are your daughters?” He couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. He had no idea that their father owned one of the most powerful record labels in the country. They never said anything. He didn’t even know they were
sisters.
“Yes. My girls begged me to come to America Rocks last night, and the only reason I made it was because a client called and cancelled a meeting.”
“Audra and Kira are very sweet. I –”
“Thank you, but enough about my personal life. I’m here to talk business. I’m going to be blunt, Mr. Garcia. I’m not going to finesse you with small talk. Falcon Records wants to make you an offer, but we’re not interested in the rest of your band. We want Angel Garcia, not Immortal Angel.”
Angel had his poker face on. No smiles. No frowns. No reaction. “I don’t go anywhere without my band.”
“Before you let loyalties get in the way, hear me out. We’re prepared to offer you a very generous contract. You’re the face of this band. You’re the draw. We could replace everyone else with musicians who have more talent and no one would ever notice. They can all be replaced.”
Angel folded his arms across his chest and put his shoulders back. “No. Me and Tommy are the face of this band. We’re the draw. The two of us. Together. And I sincerely doubt you’re going to find a better guitar player than Tommy Blade who isn’t already under contract. Tommy can’t be replaced. Didn’t you hear what he did during some of his guitar solos last night?”
Mr. Ableman dismissed it with the wave of his hand. “That was all pomp and circumstance.”
“No, that was talent. Raw, unabridged talent.”
Mr. Ableman put the palms of his hands on the edge of his desk and leaned forward. “Let me give you a little piece of advice, kid. I’ve been in this business for 35 years. You got talent. You got the makings of a star. You don’t need those other gentlemen. Whatever loyalty you feel toward your guitar player, or to the other members of your band, move past it. They’re only going to hold you back.”
“I disagree.”
Mr. Ableman stared at him for a long time. It was an imposing guise, assessing his worth versus his demands. “I’ll see what I can do about a deal that includes your guitar player, but I’m not promising anything.”
Angel glanced at Jessi. She was writing something down on a small note pad. He knew she was jotting down questions. That’s why he needed her here. She handed him her note pad. There was only one thing written on it – You can’t sell out Damien and Jimmy.
He would never throw Damien and Jimmy under the bus. He would never compromise his integrity for a record deal. Damien was like a brother to him. Damien started this band with him. He closed the little pad and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry Mr. Ableman, but I’m not going anywhere without my entire band. We’re a package deal. Either you sign the band, as a whole, or I walk.”
Mr. Ableman sat back in his chair and scowled. Obviously he was a man not used to receiving threats, especially from a nobody like Angel Garcia. The sweat beaded across Angel’s forehead at his bold demands. The meeting was that was supposed to be his big break turned into a fireball of disappointment and a battle of wills with one of the most powerful men in the record industry.
Lines pulled at the corners of Mr. Ableman’s mouth and he furrowed his brow. “Are you trying to back me into a corner, Mr. Garcia? Are you trying to play hard ball with me? Because that’s not a good idea. That’s not in your best interest.”
“Not at all. Those are my terms. The ball’s in your court, now.” Angel’s ability to remain calm and assertive astounded him.
“The offer is for you and the guitar player. That’s the best I can do.”
“Well, then, I walk.” He shook Mr. Ableman’s hand, thanked him for his time and walked out of his office without looking back.
Two hours later, Mr. Ableman called. “Be in my office at 9:00 a.m. tomorrow morning, and bring your entire band with you. There’s an offer on the table.”
No one had their poker face on today. Everyone was smiling, including Mr. Ableman, which didn’t seem like a common occurrence. He threw a manila folder on his desk and folded his hands on top of it. “Here’s a contract for Immortal Angel. Seven figures. All you have to do is sign it, after your attorney looks it over, of course. It’s very generous. I guarantee you won’t get a better offer than this.” He pulled out another manila folder and put it on top of the first one. Then put his hands on top of the both of them. “We also have a contract for your assistant, Mr. Garcia. I understand how important she is to you, and I got the message loud and clear when you said you didn’t go anywhere without her. The band is going to need someone to help handle their day-to-day needs, anyway. Your new publicist is a busy woman. She’ll welcome the assistance. We plan on getting a single out right away, that first song you played at America Rocks. What was the name of it?”
“Without You. Tommy wrote the lyrics. The band wrote the music.”
“It’s a sure fire hit. We have big plans in store. We want to schedule a round of appearances as the musical guest on the late night TV circuit and early morning shows. We also want to get you a series of promos on major radio stations around the country. Like I said, you’re going to need someone to manage your schedule. It’s a lot of work, and a lot of traveling.”
A tall, smart-looking Latina woman entered Mr. Ableman’s office, and sat in a chair next to his desk. She crossed her long, slender legs, folded her hands in her lap and smiled at everyone through bright red lips. Her dark hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, her classy business suit was obviously from an expensive designer and she carried a Michael Kors leather briefcase. When Mr. Ableman finished talking, she stood up and shook Angel’s hand. “I’m Marissa Torres. I’ve been appointed as the band’s publicist.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Angel said.
“The pleasure’s all mine. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. I’m going to get you noticed by the media. When we’re done with the promos, everyone across the country will be familiar with Immortal Angel.”
She handed Jessi her business card. “I look forward to working with you Mrs. Blade. We should meet in a day or two after the band’s schedule is finalized so I can give you a copy of the itinerary. Make sure everyone’s affairs are in order, because we’re all on a plane next week.”
They rolled into bed with a bottle of champagne to celebrate. The champagne was Angel’s idea, always the romantic. Jessi sipped at her glass and held it up to the light, admiring the pale bubbling liquid. She had a job working for Falcon Records. She was going to miss working at the fashion house, but she would be working directly with the band and the label. It was the most unexpected piece of news in her life and she was ecstatic. She finished off the bottle watching the two men she loved, loving each other.
The bed dipped and shook while the sounds of heavy breathing and long moans filled her ears. Tommy was bent over Angel, giving him oral pleasure, with his adorable little butt sticking up in the air. Tommy hadn’t even touched her yet, but she was already wet between her legs from the erotic show in front of her. She crawled on her knees to where Tommy was perched over Angel and stroked his smooth bottom. He moaned and perked his butt up toward her. She put her lips to his lower back and licked her way through the gully between his cheeks. Her tongue found his perfect little hole and she pressed her tongue against it while stroking the soft globes of his ass.
Tommy groaned and arched his back, affording her full access to his lower half. She moved her tongue in furious circles. Tipsy from the alcohol, her nerve endings were on fire and buzzed underneath her skin. She was dripping with wetness and wanted Tommy inside her, but she couldn’t extradite herself from his ass.
“Stop,” Angel whispered. “I want to fuck you.”
She knew he was talking to Tommy, but with her pussy begging for penetration, it felt like he was speaking directly to her crotch. She abruptly sat back, naughty thoughts quickly formulating in her alcohol-induced head.
She straddled one of Angel’s strong thighs, backwards, and presented her backside to him. “Look at my tight little hole. Just look at it. Don’t you want to be inside it?” As she slid up his thigh and l
eaned over, her clit rubbed against his muscular leg and sent a shockwave through her body. Another swipe left a trail of slick wetness that felt hot against her skin. She held Angel’s leg in a death grip and humped his leg once more. He was trying to wiggle out from underneath her, but his movements caused a pleasant friction. It made her twitch and convulse. She pressed her herself against his thigh, took a deep, quivering breath and gasped as an orgasm washed over her. She climaxed before she realized what was happening. She only planned on teasing Angel with her ass. The end result was a pleasant change of events. She slid off his leg and rolled onto her side with a devilish smile.
Angel was backed up to the leather headboard, hands perched on the mattress. An astonished half smile on his face quickly turned to shock as he saw the wet, shiny goo deposited on his thigh.
Tommy laughed with amusement, then bent down and licked the cum off Angel’s leg. He licked his way to Angel’s inner thigh and sucked and nibbled Angel’s half hard cock back toward the ceiling. Angel relaxed and started moaning again. His eyes rolled up into their sockets, his mouth opened slightly and he breathed deeply. He peeked through his lids and saw Jessi watching him. He narrowed his eyes and smirked at her, but his teasing smile broke through his veneer. He chuckled and silently mouthed, “You bitch.”
She gave an evil chortle and pushed Tommy’s head down until he gagged. Tommy kept his mouth down at the base of Angel’s cock, sucking it until Angel groaned and twisted the sheets in his hand.
“Stop.” Angel moaned. “No more.”
Tommy looked up at him, but held Angel’s cock in a firm grip. “Not yet.” It throbbed and twitched in Tommy’s hand. Tommy squeezed it harder and a bubble of fluid popped out of the head. He sucked it off and stoked Angel. “How’s that feel? Is that want you want?” He was teasing Angel. Making him beg.
“Uhhh. That feels so good.” Angel head lolled back and forth and his eyes rolled up in his head.
Tommy squeezed Angel’s cock again and tugged on it. “Tell me what you want.”
The Prince of Punk Rock Page 23
