I hadn’t signed a contract yet, but I’d listen to what they had to say at least.
“Thanks. I’m interested in what Sullivan is offering.”
“Oh, it’ll be worth your while. He’ll make sure of that.”
I looked out the window. I didn’t know London particularly, only visiting when I first moved over here from Ireland. The north suited me better, Liverpool especially. I wouldn’t cope with the traffic. It was fucking shocking.
I still couldn’t believe I was being chauffeured to this meeting. What world was I living in?
I considered messaging Harvey, but before I could get my phone out, we’d arrived.
Max got out first and opened the door for me.
“Cheers, mate.” I straightened my clothes and followed him into a small industrial unit.
Was this a setup? Had he brought me here under false pretences? But the moment I walked through the door and saw all the framed gold discs on the brick walls and the photographsof bands and artists I followed, I knew the dream I’d had all those years ago was finally coming true.
Sullivan stood in the reception area, a phone stuck to his ear.
“Yep, I completely understand, Harry. We’ll get on that right away.”
Surely, it wasn’t… Nah, couldn’t be, but then, stranger things had happened.
He ended the call and walked towards me, arms open.
“Killian. So glad you could make it today. We have so much to discuss. I have a fair few plans I wanted to talk to you about. Absolutely no obligation today to sign any contracts. In fact, I encourage you not to. Not until you’ve smoothed it out with a lawyer. Now, what can we get you to drink?”
“Just coffee if you have it.”
“We have mocha, cappuccino, latte, espresso. You name it, we have it. You can have syrup, anything you want.”
“Black is fine with me. No sugar, thanks.”
He looked positively disappointed with my choice, but anything else and I’d have thrown up. I didn’t remember the last time I was this nervous.
My hands were clammy, my mouth dry, and my stomach was doing somersaults worthy of an Olympic gymnast.
“Jinny, can you bring a black coffee and my usual to the conference room, please?”
He placed a hand on my shoulder and steered me towards a room, the walls all glass. It wasn’t very private; anyone could see who was in there, but the moment he shut the door, the glass was opaque.
I’d never seen that before.
“So,” he said, and sat at the table facing me. “Let’s get down to business, then I’ll give you a tour of the facility, and maybe we can get you to sing a little for us, lay down a track or two if you’d like.”
This was moving quickly, but I nodded, completely blown away by where this was going.
Jinny appeared and brought our drinks before disappearing again.
“I’m happy to give it all a go. Let’s talk business.”
I’d probably have to get myself a manager, as Sullivan, or Sully as he asked me to call him, went on to explain what they wanted.
“We’ll sit you down with a couple of songwriters we have on board, unless, of course, you write your own tracks.”
I shook my head. I’d never written a song in my life. Reading music wasn’t a strong point. I played by ear. “Sounds good, but I’d never say no to giving it a go.”
“Fantastic. I’ve spoken to our investors, showed them the video from the festival on Sunday and a couple of other clips I have of you. I’ve been watching you closely and like what I see.”