Part 4 (2/2)

”Actually, no, Mason, you don't.” She pushed away from him and smoothed her hair. ”I'm fine.”

And go away.

Inside Joe's conference room, the band sat around the battered conference table, staring with open interest at the exchange. Jax cleared his throat. ”Well, you always do make an entrance, don't you, Kev?”

The heavy tension in the room thinned as she laughed and greeted the band members and Joe, who motioned for her to take a seat directly across from the man who had recently vacated her bed.

”Kevan, thanks for coming. We've also invited GEM's CEO, Mason Dillon, to join us.”

Oh, h.e.l.l f.u.c.king no. Mason f.u.c.king Dillon. CEO of Global Entertainment Marketing. I was a fool not to have realized who he was.

Her blood boiled and her pulse raced as she ground her teeth and tried not to glare at the tall, smug man across from her. His expensive and professional manner exuded the powerful aura of someone used to winning.

Dammit. Had he known who she was when he'd watched her in the club last night? Had he known who she was when she'd taken him home?

She needed to keep her cool and not act like the hormonal mess she actually was. She tilted her head in acknowledgment and fake-smiled in Mason's direction-where he looked oddly uncomfortable, almost like his perfectly tailored suit was too tight-then back at Joe.

Whatever. You won't ruin my presentation, f.u.c.ker.

Her heart beat so hard she was sure they could hear it pounding against her ribs. All the reasons she'd decided to stay away from guys-especially guys like Mason-came flooding back to her in her father's voice.

You're lucky you're pretty...

Boys will be boys...

Don't think he can't find a million more like you, only smarter...

She looked to Joe as he smiled, ignoring the palpable strain in the room and blocking out her father's taunts. ”I'll cut to the chase,” Joe said. ”We'd like to hear both of your plans. If we like what we hear, we can talk about moving forward.”

”Both of us?” Kevan and Mason asked simultaneously, his deep voice overpowering hers. She felt her eye twitch slightly and heat rise up the back of her neck. The air thickened again, weighed down by the growing tension between her and Mason as she launched her most vicious glare his way. This was not going the way she'd wanted it to.

Time to pull up my big girl panties and fix this cl.u.s.terf.u.c.k.

Pretending she hadn't spent the night with the deceitful man sitting across the table and that Joe hadn't just blown her world apart, she smiled at each of the band members. ”Look, Joe. Guys. I understand why you might be interested in a more conventional firm like Global Entertainment Marketing. They're big business and have industry connections. I get it. But I know the players in this industry well, and I know GEM has never signed a heavy metal band.”

She took a deep breath and glanced toward Mason. He didn't look happy. He might actually be trying to bore holes in her with his laser-like eyes. Not her problem. ”In fact, they've never come close to signing a hard rock band. Their clients are strictly pop or easy listening-”

”I have one of the largest client bases in the industry, Joe. And, contrary to Ms. Landry's claim, we recently signed a metal act to a developmental deal.” Mason looked pointedly in Kevan's direction and smirked. ”I'm sure you've heard of Demon Hill.” Everyone nodded, like a table full of bobbleheads.

Well, f.u.c.k.

While not quite the caliber band that Manix Curse was, Demon Hill was a popular draw in the Portland area. Kevan had been so close to signing them until Bowen's fiasco. The band had made it clear they wouldn't be rescheduling their meeting with her.

Now she knew why. And Mason Dillon suddenly became even more of a threat.

As he flipped open his neat little leather dossier, she felt the muscles in her neck and shoulders tighten.

”Demon Hill is a good rock band, more mainstream and definitely less hardcore than Manix. GEM is designed to cater to mainstream artists. Which is cool. For them.” Her words were coated with just the right amount of disdain. The metal community was tight-knit and loyal. Painting Mason as the outsider might help her make her case. ”But you guys aren't mainstream or even hard rock. You'll never be easy listening, and you're sure as h.e.l.l not pop. Your music may be melodic and hit a broader audience, but it's hardcore. Mason wouldn't know the first thing about positioning you for long-term success.”

Had he known before he'd taken her home that they were competing for the same contract? The thought was momentarily soul crus.h.i.+ng. How could she have been so gullible? Again.

Joe pointed to a cable next to Kevan. ”Why don't you plug your laptop in and show us what you have first? Then Mason will present.” She pulled out her laptop and set it at the end of the table, plugging the projector cable in and focusing the image on the screen at the opposite end of the room. Launching the slideshow she'd prepared, feeling proud of the cell phone images she'd asked for from the attendees and instantly received over social media from last night's show. She glanced up at Joe. He looked impressed.

”Not only do I know Manix Curse, but I love your music. I'm a fan. I recognize how to market a cutting-edge group like Manix, and it's not going to be through prost.i.tuting yourself to frat kids, or by fronting boy bands or playing footsies with radio execs. It'll be through social media, authentic follower interactions and events, and playing your bada.s.s music to fans who love bada.s.s music and want to buy your awesome merchandise.” Her throat felt dry, her voice raspy in her ears. She glanced around the table, and Jax rolled a water bottle her way. And winked. Sa.s.sy man-boy.

Mason tapped one finger on the table. ”That's all very quaint, but sending a tweet about concerts won't get you a recording deal-”

”No, of course not.” She smirked, pleased she was getting to him. Glad she could make him feel just a little of the discomfort she felt. d.a.m.n. Had he seen her meeting notes on her kitchen table before he'd left?

”But building a solid support base and packing every show you play will. As you can see on the graphs, here”-she pointed to the screen-”marketing metrics show a direct correlation between a bands' fan base growth curve and their engagement in social media.

”The great thing about using social media is the costs are measured in time, not dollars. Bands have a lot of down time, which is a prime opportunity to engage current and potential fans.” She looked directly at Conner, who was looking down into his lap, maybe at his phone. The full tattoo sleeves on his muscled arms tucked under the table and his hair pulled back into a man bun. To win this battle, she had to appeal to all the band's members, including the distracted ba.s.s player. And ignore the jerk threatening to steal her one chance to fix her mess of a life.

”Three years ago, Chris Kael, the ba.s.s player of Five Finger Death Punch, was a bartender at a Hard Rock Cafe, now he has a drink named after him there and more than fifty thousand followers on Twitter. He's sold hundreds of thousands of alb.u.ms in the last year. In addition, his personal merch product line and distilled whiskey business are growing franchises.”

At the mention of one of his rock heroes, Conner sat up and tucked his phone away, his handsome face still drawn, but paying attention. ”So what does tweeting have to do with Kael's success in business or as a ba.s.s player?”

Score. Finally.

”He grows his band's brand by interacting directly with his fans. Jolt Marketing specializes in social media and can help fine-tune a program designed for this kind of success.” She continued through the slides, showing the different statistics and graphs supporting her ideas.

Kevan a.s.sessed the interest of the group. Everyone, including Joe, studied the charts on her screen. Mason's foot tapped against the carpet and jiggled the table, but his face remained expressionless. He was obviously a master at hiding his emotions. Or maybe he didn't have any.

”Another great way to effectively build interest in Manix without spending outrageous amounts of money is through fan-centered events, such as meet and greets. Video, too. I'd love to make a couple of low-budget videos-personal behind-the-scenes kind of stuff-and get them to go viral on the web. Growing local interest outside of your core fan base could be done through community events like social activism, charity performances, and volunteering. Sabbath, Slipknot, and G.o.dsmack are all bands well known for giving back.” She cycled through the bulleted slides featuring overly happy pierced and tattooed people.

”Finally, I can revamp your merchandising. I have an in-house graphic designer with an eye-”

”GEM has an entire design department. I personally handpick the designers a.s.signed to each brand.” Mason leaned his elbows on the table, his eyes locking with hers.

”Yes, but do any of your designers have a father who once played studio guitar for Anthrax? Someone who understands the metal scene because she grew up in it?” Kevan glared and Mason pressed his lips into a tight line, his eyes stormy and filled with something like anger. That shut Pretty Boy up.

”As I was saying, the day of rock star advances is long gone, and touring, videos, and merchandising are how bands make their money nowadays. So, I propose we take a look at your current branding.” Apparently, they didn't like that idea as her words were met with groans. ”Hey, I don't want to change Manix. I want you to stand out above all the other noise out there.”

At least Joe nodded. He got it. Her heart slowed a little from the near-constant pounding against her chest. Breathe.

”What does that mean? You don't like our logo-the skull with bleeding eye sockets doesn't get you hot?” Marco asked with his trademark playful smirk.

”Shut up, d.i.c.khead. She's trying to help us.” Mandi threw her empty water bottle at the longhaired singer.

”No, it's a good question.” Kevan was ready for their resistance to updating the band's look. ”I don't want to change everything, but help refine it. I love the logo. It's totally brutal. We need to clean it up a bit. We can talk about updating your other stuff-s.h.i.+rts, CDs, posters-in the coming weeks.”

Mason's foot still fidgeted, but his expression had changed. He looked different. Impressed? Nervous? Could the CEO of GEM actually be threatened by little ol' Jolt Marketing?

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