“Uh, no. We’re doing a show in Roanoke, Virginia right now. We’ll be back sometime tomorrow.” Truman’s back already ached when he thought about the rough ride in the van for the long trip back home.
“Okay, how about the day after tomorrow? Come to my office. I’ll text you the address.”
Patience had never been Truman’s virtue. “Are we getting dropped?”
Craig laughed, and that made Truman bristle. He didn’t see his career as a laughing matter.
After the laughter died down, Craig composed himself enough to explain his reaction. “I don’t think Charisma plans on not honoring your contract.”
Away from the phone receiver, Truman released a long sigh. At least he had something to tell the guys other than saying that everything will be fine. He had a meeting with a stranger who assured him that he had nothing to worry about as far as their first album. Now he worried again.
Craig gave Truman a time and location for the meeting before the call ended. A young volunteer jogged to the trailer and called for the group. Each of them filed out one by one, glaring at Truman as they headed toward the stage area.
“Hey, guys. Wait up.” Truman ducked into the trailer long enough to get his guitar. He caught up with his friends.
“You all right to play?” Sully hung his guitar strap on his shoulder.
“Great now. I got some kick-ass news.” Truman beamed. “I have a meeting about our album when we get home.”
“Album? What album?” Tony scratched his head.
“We have a deal with a label and they want to meet with me on Friday to discuss our album.”
Charlie grabbed Truman’s arm first. “You’re shitting me.” He slapped Truman on his back. “That’s awesome.”
“I told you guys not to worry.” Truman damn near skipped as he relayed the news.
“This is happening. It’s really happening.” Ervin pumped his fist in the air before releasing a loud howl.
“Wait. Before everyone gets too excited.” Sully stopped his trek to the stage, which halted everyone else’s journey. “Did you sign us to a label already without discussing it with us?”
Truman made sure to look each of his friends in their eyes. “Yes. Almost a year ago, I met up with a woman named Fatima Evans. She seemed excited about signing a country group. So she asked if I would take a chance on her and her label and sign with her. I got a good feeling and did it.”
“Without telling us?” Sully slammed the butt of his guitar on the ground.
“And what did you mean by taking a chance on us? Why would we be a risk?” Charlie’s excited demeanor started to fade.
Truman dropped his gaze for a moment. “Because she normally records R&B, pop, and rap.”
“Rap?” Tony’s eyes widened. “And she knows we’re country?”
“Knew.” Truman rested his hand on his stomach. “After I signed the contract, I didn’t hear from her. Then I found out she passed away about six months ago. I waited about a month after her death to make some inquiries. I hadn’t heard back from anyone until today.”
“This is when having a lawyer would help, or at least a real manager.” Sully picked up his guitar and headed to the stage again.
“So they called you and they want to still record us. That’s good news.” Charlie’s smile started to firm up again. “What’s the name of the label?”
“Charisma Music.”
Ervin pulled out his phone and started typing something on it. “Holy shit.”
The group stopped again.
“What?” Tony approached Ervin first, not surprising.
“You know what they nickname this label? Ca-Razy Music. You know that singer Shauna Stellar?” Ervin flicked his finger over the phone screen.
“Can’t say that I do.” Sully shrugged.
“She does all of those love songs. She did that song ‘Love Me, Love Me, Love Me.’” Ervin kept his attention on his phone during his mad search.
Charlie’s eyes got wide. “She sang that one? I know that song. Two of my kids were conceived while I was listening to that.” He released a low, long whistle. “What about her?”
“Her mother was Fatima Evans. The reason they call it Ca-Razy Music is because Shauna went a little wacko about six months ago and took a header off the stage. She was babbling about love and stuff. People think she was high or drunk. She committed herself after that. Either way, if she’s involved with the studio, it might be a problem.” Ervin flipped his phone around. “But it’ll be a good problem to have. Look at that.”
Truman stared at the screen. The woman on it had long, wavy dark brown hair, a slender frame with the exception of her round ass, and skin that looked like caramel covered her body. She had her head back, eyes closed, and the microphone poised above her full lips. He brought his gaze down to her pert breasts and had to hold his guitar in front of his body when his lower half reacted involuntarily.
This Shauna Stellar danced a delicate line between sexy vixen and elegant lady. Truman understood how she could drive men crazy, but he couldn’t see her having a bad day in her life…with the exception of losing her mother.
“Go to that meeting and tell them we don’t want any part of them or their studio.” Sully shook his head. “We don’t need to be mixed up with an outfit that doesn’t do our music and with someone who may not be right in the head.”
Truman had to stare at his friend like Sully had lost his mind. “Are you kidding? This could be our only chance to—”
Sully cut him off. “I mean it. Tear up the contract and walk away. We don’t need to go to bed with this organization to make it.”
Charlie and Tony followed Sully.
Ervin stopped in front of Truman. “I know you’ll do the right thing by us. You always have. If you think signing this deal and recording with them is a good thing, I’ll stand with you.” He looked back at Sully. “To hell with him.”
“No.” Truman shook his head. “That’s not how this works. We said we would do things together. I messed that up a year ago when I signed something behind you guys’ backs. If I’m going to lead us, I need to respect your wishes.” He glanced at the other three in the group who stepped up on stage. “I won’t let you all down.”
Now Truman had to convince himself that he didn’t need to be concerned about this upcoming meeting.
Chapter 2
“Tell me again, Craig. What do you mean I have nothing?” Shauna paced in front of her manager’s desk.
If she kept moving, the negative thoughts threatening to creep into her skull would stay away. Plus walking had helped her over the last few months.
She did stop long enough to glare at Craig. The back of her legs brushed against the red leather chair that sat in front of his desk. She remembered buying him this pricey showpiece for his fiftieth birthday along with a black leather couch, mink carpet, and mahogany desk with platinum fixtures.
Good to see that they all traveled well from the office building she used to own to Craig’s new digs in this dump down at the Oceanfront in Virginia Beach.
Craig adjusted his glasses on his thick nose. “Your half-year stint in rehab hasn’t done wonders for your career.”
She pulled her floppy red hat down lower over her eyes. “It wasn’t rehab.” Another lesson she learned in Peaceful Acres: call things like she saw