Chapter 19

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August 25, 1994

**The Artist POV**

I wake up disoriented, with my pants feeling a little tight. Before I even open my eyes, the first word I murmur with a seductive tone in my voice is, "Lani..."

Silence is my only reply. I reluctantly open my eyes only to find myself alone on my studio couch with my acoustic guitar resting on my lap. Fuck! You mean it was only a dream? It seemed so real...

I gently lay down the guitar beside me. With a wistful sigh, I slowly move my hand under the waistband of my pants, gently pulling myself out to relieve the pressure there. The dream was so vivid that it only took a few quick, firm strokes before I came with a strangled groan, "Uhhh...Lani....yesss..." before reaching over to grab a tissue to wipe away the evidence. I've got to take a shower anyway...

I take in a few precious moments of silence, and reflect over the events of the past day. While I'd woken up with my memory only the day before, with everything that's already happened since, it might as well have been a hundred years. I wonder what Lani's doing now... I hope she's okay... Is she wearing the promise ring? When I finally get things settled and make my way back to her, will she still want me?

All I want to do is to race back to her...even if I know that everything I said in my letter to her still stands. She deserves better than I can give her right now. Why does everything in my life have to be so complicated?

I've already made some steps in the right direction, but there's still so much to do.

Letting Mayte go was something I really needed to take care of...sooner rather than later. While it turned out messier than I expected, I have to admit to being relieved by her absence. Now we can both move on...

Finally it clicks that I've got to deal with the record company execs today, and with a groan I drag my hand through my short black curls. Of all things I still need to do...this has to be the one I'm dreading the most...

My eyes drop to my watch, only to realize it's already noon. Shit!

In a mad dash, I quickly put the guitar away and rush to the shower...having just long enough to get myself together before those idiots make their appearance.

__

I walk into my office at exactly 1:00 and find WB execs already in there waiting for me. Let's just get this over with already...

"Well Randy," Dick begins with a sneer. "Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence." This is bitten out as he glances in Randy's direction before giving me the evil eye, along with a dismissive once over.

"Good afternoon gentlemen," I offer cordially before stopping to shake both their hands, as they give me a cool nod in response before getting right into it.

Greetings out of the way, the two head right into attack mode. I can already tell this meeting isn't gonna go well...

"You know Dick, I find it kind of funny how he just mysteriously manages to disappear after getting the news that his ridiculous name change wouldn't get him out of his contract with us, don't you?" Randy asks, voice pure ice as he tosses a cool glance in my direction before locking his eyes directly on Dick.

"You know, I'm right here you know....you could just try talking to me." I offer with a hint of snark. Their banter is already leaving a sour taste in my mouth, and this meeting is just getting started...lovely...

I make quick work of taking a seat at my desk, directly facing them as my gaze turns frosty. Seriously...what the hell is up with these fuckers? "You are in my office now you know. Tell me what you want and get out." I bite back bitterly.

Dick takes the hint and quickly gets down to business. "While everyone was scrambling to ascertain your whereabouts, we've got to say that there was a definite benefit to your little disappearing act...."

"Such as...?" making a hand gesture pushing him to get to the point already.

"Album sales shot up in the days and weeks following your disappearance...and they've continued going up since." he offers coolly, reaching into his briefcase to pull out the relevant paperwork and quickly showing me the math. "As you can see, sales are currently up 50%...and we want to keep the ball rolling..."

"I'm listening..." I say, the business side of me intrigued, even if the personal side senses a bomb is about to drop.

With this, Randy decides to inject his two cents worth into the conversation. "Now that you've finally returned, we want you to do a press conference...talk to all the media outlets regarding your whereabouts and what you've been up to over the last month. You're a hot commodity at the moment...and we want to keep it that way."

"Absolutely not," I reply with a tone of finality. "You know how I feel about my privacy. The most I'll do is a statement, no questions. Take it or leave it." My life is my business...besides, there's no way in hell I can put Lani through that...

At this point Dick decides to add his input with a stern, brisk business tone. "I'm afraid we must insist. Your contract with us depends on it. You know you need to capitalize on these increased album sales in order to meet your contract requirements with us."

"Don't try threatening me. Either we come to some other agreement, or you two can get the hell out of my office." I retort dismissively, standing firm in my position.

Randy gives a curious look at my outburst. "I wouldn't be so hasty kicking us out if I were you. The first thing we'd do is come after you for breach of contract as soon as album sales start to lag..." he offers as a thinly veiled threat.

I decide not to dignify that comment with a response, instead directing my attention to Dick. "I propose a counter offer. I give a statement, take a few questions from the media and then we close this thing down." Seems like a fair deal to me...

"I'm afraid that won't work for us." Dick replies sternly. "There's no wiggle room on this one. I insist that we give the public what it wants...and right now, it wants you."

"That's right, Artist." Randy sneers. "Either you agree to a full press conference or we hit you with breach of contract at the earliest possible opportunity. It's your choice..." he finishes, leaving things hanging.

Stony silence fills the air for a moment...until I emit a reluctant sigh. Amber eyes icy, I meet Dick's eyes firmly. "When and where do you propose for this press conference to take place? I ask him, voice dripping with malice.

"Nice to see you've come around to our way of thinking..." Dick replies cordially. "We're thinking 12 noon tomorrow, just outside the front gates here at Paisley Park."

"In fact...sensing your reluctance to agree to our terms, we've already pushed forward the issue, and have contacted all the appropriate media outlets." Randy continues.

"My my...getting a little ahead of ourselves were we?" I ask snidely. "Gee...I wonder what you would've done if I didn't agree to your little proposition..."

"I wouldn't test us if I were you..." Dick replies coolly. "Most of the media is already on their way. Be prepared to answer all their questions at 12 sharp. If you know what's good for you, you won't be late," he finishes dismissively, turning in preparation to leave.

"We'll be there to ensure you're not," Randy tosses out in farewell, as the two make their way out of my office.

Stupid motherfuckers may think they've won this one, but I'm determined to keep Lani and my memory issues out of the press. I can't have the press knocking down Lani's door...I just can't do that to her.

Fortunately, I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.

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