"I think she looks great," Jack said with a smile. "Take a seat, Effie." He was giving my name a test drive after hearing Sam say it.
I blushed and stood there silently for a few seconds, entirely unsure of whose orders I should take. However, my gut told me to sit down. "You can barely see the stain," I said proudly as I reoccupied my former chair.
"Sure, sure, right." Sam closed the door and then walked past me and sat down where he had been before. "Mr. Teller, I really can't tell you how thrilled I am to have you here. You could do huge things with MCI." His tone was ingratiating.
"I'll see what you have to offer my client, and then I'll make my decision." Jack's words were firm, yet reasonable.
The two men started to converse somewhat rapidly, exchanging terms that I didn't understand, making references that were lost on me. I began admiring Jack's cadence when he spoke. The words seemed to flow effortlessly from him, the rhythm so subtle and controlled. There was a tiny twitch in his lip that seemed to surface after every couple of sentences, almost as if his muscles were trying to get in their fair say as well.
I almost burst out laughing at the though.
My mind started crawling toward the gutter, something that was incredibly unusual for me. I don't know if it was the boring subject matter or what, but I imagined my hands in Jack's hair, holding on tightly as he had his way with me. Something—well, Sam, more precisely—told me that Jack was very good at most things he did, and I was certain that the bedroom was another area where he excelled.
"And will Ms. Effie," he trailed off. "What's your last name? I didn't get it before." His eyes burned into me again. He wouldn't look away until I answered, that was for sure.
"Jacobs," I blurted, again too loudly. My cheeks were flushed red and warm. I felt as if he somehow knew what I had been thinking.
"Is Ms. Jacobs going to be the one handling A&R with the artist?"
I suddenly felt very embarrassed. When I looked at Sam, he seemed to be on the same path I was. "I hadn't arranged for that yet. Ms. Jacobs was just listening in on our meeting. She's in accounting and I wanted to give her a feel for one of these—"
"I thought I had asked for a rep," Jack interrupted. "I thought I had made it very clear that I don't make deals without face-to-face meetings with all parties involved."
Sam swallowed a lump in his throat. "I don't remember you saying that. I thought this was just preliminary."
"What do you think, Ms. Jacobs? Is this the best possible deal for my client? She's a new artist and she needs the best in the business. Is MCI the best?" I couldn't figure out how to read the tone of Jack's words. There was a mixture of harshness and curiosity. It actually felt as if he wanted my input even though it seemed painfully obvious that he knew that I barely grasped the situation.
I gulped, wishing I had something to drink. "I'm sure Sam can work out a fair deal with you, Mr. Teller." I didn't know what the hell I was saying.
"Jack, please. I'll drop the Ms. if you drop the Mr. Sounds too formal."
"Jack," I said, fulfilling his request.
"A fair deal, huh? That's all you can offer?"
I could tell that Sam was doing all in his power to keep himself composed. He had become so fragile, yet he was fighting hard to retain a positive outward appearance. "Jack, I'm sure we can—"
"No," Jack interrupted. "I like that. She didn't make a bunch of empty promises like I'm used to you people making. I'll very seriously consider MCI. But for now, I must be on my way. If this is a go, my people will call your people, all right?"
He stood up at once and shook Sam's hand very quickly before moving to mine. No, this wasn't some normal handshake. Our right hands connected and then he brought his left hand over my right, caressing my palm and lightly stroking my knuckles. A shiver broke out across my body, one that I fought to hide.
"It's been a pleasure," Jack said, his brilliant pale green eyes burning into mine. Again, I couldn't look away.
"Thanks, Jack," Sam said awkwardly as the music business mogul and genius departed the boardroom and closed the door behind him. After he had disappeared, I collapsed in the chair, my lungs deflating immediately like an untied balloon.
"What the hell was that?" I said. "The whole thing was so surreal."
"At least he was nice to you," Sam said.
"Is that a good thing? He seemed so cocky," I mumbled, hoping that Jack didn't suddenly reappear in the door.
"Some of these guys are like that. They get famous and their appetites only get worse. If they want it, it's theirs." He paused and then a warm smile broke out across his face. "Hell, I'd do the same thing too if I could."
"Sam!" I cried. "That's terrible. There's more to life than girls and fancy vacations."
"Don't be so sure about that," he said, his smile remaining. "I can't believe he played me like that in front of you, though. Tough son of a bitch."
"What are you talking about?" I wasn't sure what he meant. The whole thing had seemed unusually intense, but I had assumed it was typical in this line of work.
"This was a preliminary meeting. He never said anything about having an A&R person here. I don't know why he said that. I'm not making this up."
"Well, you know better than me." This whole development confused me even more, and something told me that my future was going to include a lot more moments like this one.
"I wish that were the case." Sam shrugged. "I really do."
