Sedona Law 6 by Dave Daren (best non fiction books of all time .TXT) 📗

“Yeah,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “I met his pilot one time. He got drunk and told me all about it.”

“Fuck,” I said. “You’re coming with me.”

I grabbed his arm and led him up the steps and into the club.

“You’re sure you can get me money right?” he yelled as we entered into a wall of music.

I winked.

“Trust me,” I yelled over the volume.

The Pink Kitty Kat Lounge was true to its name… pink. The whole place was done in pink and black, with fuzzy couches, and loud house music filled the room. The stage was empty at the moment, and scantily clad women walked around serving drinks.

We quickly found Brent, who distigustingly ogled a pretty young, blond waitress and stuck a bill in her waistband, and slapped her bottom. She laughed and he said something to her, and she laughed again. I rolled my eyes.

“Hello Jannette,” I greeted the dancer.

She turned to me and smiled.

“Henry,” she shouted about the noise. “I heard you were living out here now. How’s your life?”

“Good,” I said. “How’s your brother?”

“Playing minor league,” she said. “I’ll tell him you said hi.”

“You do that,” I said. “Can you get us some drinks?”

“Wait,” Brent said. “You know her?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Grew up playing sports with her brother,” I smirked and then I added as a joke. “Big Catholic family. Doesn’t believe in birth control. Super into it.”

He made a disgusted face and then turned to Jagger.

“Jagger, Jagger,” he yelled over the noise. “Take a seat.”

Jagger sat, and as soon as I followed suit, Brent’s expression changed.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Irving?” he asked.

“I negotiated this contract, Brent,” I said. “I know every word, every clause. Stop dicking around.”

“The deal’s been signed over a year ago,” Brent rolled his eyes. “Your ‘client,’ I guess, needs to stop bellyaching over a dead deal.”

“No,” I said. “Everyone from Steven Spielberg to Matt Damon is, and has, made money off my client’s work. He, on the other hand, hasn’t seen a dime.”

“Not my problem,” Brent said. “He should have paid closer attention when he sold the song.”

“Bullshit,” I said. “You didn’t give him ‘due opportunity.’”

Jannette brought the drinks and Brent visibly backed away from her, as she set them down as if she could somehow be impregnated by osmosis. Jannette looked around the table confused, and I just shrugged at her. Brent was a dick. She’d thank me in the long run.

“We fulfilled the terms of the contract,” Brent continued as Jannette walked away, “and any attempt to prove otherwise is wrong. But…”

He pulled out a notebook and slipped an envelope to Jagger.

“We’re willing to settle,” he said. “Out of the interest of kindness, we’re willing to give him a sizable cut of the profits, if he signs a waiver releasing us any further obligation.”

“What is this?” I grabbed the envelope and read the check.

“Seventy-five thousand dollars?” I read the number and threw the check back at him. “You must have us confused for two idiots.”

Jagger tentatively picked up the check, and I saw him gulp at the number, and hand back the check a little slower than I did.

“It’s not a bad deal,” Brent capitalized on Jagger’s hesitance. “Sim One got one hundred and twenty-five.”

“You’re lying,” I said. “How many units did the Sim One version sell?”

“I don’t have those figures off hand,” he said.

“If you’re going to talk a song writer out of money,” I said. “Don’t you think that would be an important fact to prepare? I think you know, the number just works against you, so you thought you’d distract him with a couple lap dances, while you screw him out of a hell of a lot of money.”

I saw Jagger turn to me, raise an eyebrow, and grin in admiration.

“The film itself grossed fifty million at the box office,” I continued. “And Stay was the character’s love theme, featured in two different scenes--”

“Three,” Jagger piped up. “It was featured in three different scenes.”

“Three different scenes,” I corrected. “In a two hour feature film. And you want to tell me that it’s only worth seventy-five thousand?”

“What is that you want, Irving?” Brent sighed deep.

I grabbed a napkin out of the dispenser and snapped at Jagger who quickly produced a dull pencil. I wrote down a number, and slipped it to Brent.

“No fucking way,” he laughed. “You are out of your mind.”

“Given the sales of the film,” I said. “And the distress you put my client through, it’s not unreasonable. Of course, you have a great relationship with Amy at Paramount.”

A shadow passed over his face. Amy at Paramount was the rep that would have to have signed off on the purchase. She was also a raging feminist who hated Brent’s guts.

“I’m sure it was a big win for you to sell that song to her,” I said. “And I’m sure that your boss was elated that you got something across her desk. What a pity, that you’re going to have to take it all back, and tell her that you fucked up, and she’s going to have to go to court for it.”

He smirked and rolled his eyes.

“I’ve dealt with her before,” I said. “She likes me. Nice woman. But, she doesn’t want to be in a courtroom anymore than you do. So, why don’t we just put this whole nasty matter behind us, and settle this right here, right now.”

“I’m all for settling out of court,” Brent said. “But what you’re asking for is completely outrageous. Not even Sim One got that much.”

“Can you prove that?” I asked. “Because once I file this lawsuit, I can subpoena those records. And I’m sure your boss would love that, especially, given