Hit and Run

Chapter 2

"You're late" said Margaret, my infinitely overbearing manager. She was wearing a tight black dress suit with her black curls falling down her back. She had her phone in her hand and was in the process of typing something seemingly important when I walked in, my hair loose around my shoulders and sunglasses covering my eyes.

"Are you surprised?" I asked with a smirk. Of the many things I was famous for, punctuality was not one of them and Margaret knew that better than anyone. Margaret smiled, unfazed by my sass. She had long ago learned how to deal with me. 

It was then that I realized there was another person in the room.

"Analiz, this is Jerome Williams, your new marketing director" she said gesturing to the handsome blonde stranger standing beside her. His hair was cut nicely and he seemed to be in his mid thirties. He wore a nice black suit with a red tie. I studied his face for a second. He seemed like the kind of guy who had climbed the ranks of the education system early. He must have been top of his class because his poise suggested a great deal of success in his background. 

"Well don't mind if I do" I said walking over to him. I bit my lip and extended my hand just after removing my sunglasses and sliding them onto my head like a headband. He made eye contact with me and took my hand with a smile. I couldn't see Margaret, but I was sure she was rolling her eyes.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Ms. Maika" he said. He had a deep voice that leaned towards the raspy side.

"It certainly is a pleasure," I said not breaking from the eye contact and allowing another smirk to creep up the side of my lip. "and please, call me Analiz."

I stayed there looking at him even after we dropped our hands. I heard Margaret clear her throat behind me. It didn't cause me to turn around.

"What happened to Ken?" I asked, referring to my old marketing director while still keeping my eyes fixed on Jerome.

"Well Analiz, he said you were too much to handle."

I laughed and turned back around to face her. Classic. I knew the reason why he left. I was glad she didn't.

"Now seeing as you're already late, can we please get this meeting started?" She asked, slightly annoyed. We all took a seat around the excessively long oval-shaped meeting table. Margaret and Jerome pulled out a series of papers and different folders and spread them out on the table in front of them. On one of them I saw a statistics report regarding my relative twitter following to other artists in the same category as me. Another one showed probabilities for award nominations. The two spoke to each other quietly, trying to put together their documents cohesively before beginning to talk. Finally Margaret spoke aloud.

"Well, the good news is you're in the running for album of the year and artist of the year for the Grammys, and you're almost entirely guaranteed a nomination." 

"However, we're a little concerned about external factors that might influence the decision making progress disadvantageously to you" said Jerome. Good. He's smart.

"What do you mean?" I asked. It wasn't like I hadn't heard someone say I might be shooting myself in the foot before. The truth was I didn't care too much.

"Well, we think your 'bad-girl' image might make the award committee less willing to sponsor an artist who may be providing a bad influence to a younger generation of girls. You have a huge following of teens and some younger and the things you um....represent are not necessarily things they want to associate with that age range" Jerome explained.

I laughed.

"'Bad-girl.' Is that what you call sluts these days?" I asked. Jerome seemed slightly taken aback. I always found it fun to watch people get used to me. It couldn't have been an easy thing to do, but the best part was I love the expression of surprise that painted some faces when I opened my mouth.