Addicted

"Because I think the answer is no. And if that is the case, I have an offer for you – if you're interested, of course." An offer, huh?

"What kind of offer?" I asked.

"Your own music, however you want it. I know your sound and I like it. I know what I heard off your second album with your band and that wasn't it."

"So what do you want to do about that?"

"I want to sell your music. I have a contract here for you I think you'll really like. Tell me where to send it and you can have it by tonight."

"I'm not looking at offers right now."

"You'll want to see this, Nate."

"How many records would I owe you?"

"How many do you want to give me?"

"Stop bullshitting."

"No bullshit, Nate," he said.

This sounded too good to be true. I wasn't about to make the same mistake that I had with Remus again with this guy. Even though I hadn't gotten out of my thing with Remus yet, I was interested in what this guy was saying. This could be my out. I was sure at this point that I was making music in the future – yes, one hundred percent – but it was not going to be with Remus. They could kiss my ass. I was done.

"I hope you didn't call me to hear a yes from me immediately," I said.

"Of course not. I can send you the contract and you can tell me what you think. Take your time," he said. I knew what that meant in music, and it didn't mean take your time. It meant get back to us before we lose interest and sign someone who's easier to work with than you.

"Awesome, I guess," I said.

"I'll be in touch," Wes Barry said before he hung up.

I looked at the phone. Now was as good a time as any to start thinking about my next move. It was just sort of unexpected, and it sounded like there might have been a catch. I was just talking about this with Abby, maybe it was a sign, but I wasn't dumb enough to go into it h

eadfirst without making sure it wasn't another sham contract that would trap me into something I didn't want.

I walked back into the bathroom and saw Abby standing with her back to me, getting dressed.

"Morning, babe," I said, walking over and kissing her.

"I was wondering where you were. Was that your record company on the phone?" she asked.

"No, it was another producer," I said vaguely.

"He made you an offer? I heard, Nate, you can tell me."

"He's sending me a contract to look at for a deal I can start when I go back to LA."

"That's great. That is what you wanted, wasn't it?" she asked.

"It's good news, but I have to look at the contract first. I can't just sign it."

"But he's giving you what you want, right? A way to make your own music, exactly how you want?"

"If he really meant what he said, yeah." She smiled sadly.

"Then you're going to take it. You're going to start working with him when you go back to LA."

"I might, but that won't happen for a while, Abby."