Theo just stared at her. “How? Saint Patrick’s Day is less than two weeks away! There’s no way I’m going to be able to pull in a big-name DJ within two weeks. Not with every other club competing with me.”
“I may have the answer to your prayers.”
“I’m all ears.”
“Have you heard of Emily Kaminski?”
“Isn’t she that actress who starred in that show on Hulu?” Theo asked, confused. “The Mary Mistress Mysteries one.”
“Netflix, but yes,” Chloe corrected. “Before she got her break on Marrying Miss Mystery, she paid her bills by DJing pop-up raves. She’s not a Skrillex, but she is a name. A big one in certain circles.”
Theo considered her words. “I’ve heard of her at least. But do you think she’ll do it?”
“Well, I know she’s between projects at the moment.”
“And how do you know that?” he asked, suspicious.
“She’s the client you kicked out of my apartment”—she gave him an arch look—“well, you remember when.”
“So you’re my potential savior’s agent.”
“Yep.”
“Isn’t this a conflict of interest? Insider trading?”
“There’s no such thing in the entertainment industry,” she countered with a grin. “Do you want me to pick up my phone and save your arse, or not?”
“How much is this going to cost me?” He scrubbed a hand over his face.
“How much is your arse worth?”
He rattled off a number that she knew was way too low. “Please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If that’s what you were paying Julius Seizure, no wonder he bailed on you. You’re going to rake in eight figures in alcohol sales and cover fees alone.” Saint Patrick’s Day was big money in New York, with some clubs even staying open for thirty-six hours straight, only pausing the service of alcohol between four a.m. and eight a.m. on those days. “That’s not even counting the streaming revenue or the potential residuals.”
Theo winced, and then gave out a much more realistic number.
She nodded. “I’ll call her and ask.”
“I should let you know I don’t bargain. When I name a price, that’s what I’m willing to pay,” he said, narrowing his eyes.
Chloe laughed. “Clearly you have never worked in the entertainment industry. Everything is a bargaining point: clothing, publicity, residuals, up-front pay, even what kind of scene the client is willing to do. We haggle more than a used car salesman.”
“I don’t haggle.” His voice was flat.
She reached out and patted him on the cheek like he was a child, and in her world, he was. “That’s why your acts cancel on you. I bet you money that Julius Seizure got a better deal that covered the cost of whatever his cancellation clause was. There’s an art to getting the best deal where everybody walks away happy. And it’s an art I happen to be an expert at.”
“So how much is this going to cost me?”
“Honestly?” she asked.
“Yeah, honestly.”
“Without haggling?”
He nodded.
She named a price that was twenty-five percent higher than his second offer.
He blinked, then blinked again. “That’s outrageous.”