Chapter 72: Band Management
Tuesday, January 3rd, Morning
He established a workspace in a conference room, it was a good of a place as any. This kept him away from the set as it was god-given up. Also, he could meet with important people at a common area, they knew this place, it was also neutral ground.
Tucker Baker looked up as the first person he was meeting with arrived. She was a tall older woman, with dark hair, and her face was still smoothed. Her carriage spoke of elegance, it was a sense of grace that someone had to be born with and refined over time, but it also underlined with a quiet sense of power. Knowing the family, she came from, it was quite understandable. Her green eyes, to people that didn't know her, would disarm most people with a simple look, but there was also had a predatory quality to them. Her clothes also spoke all the business.
Tucker reflected, she had a god-given the right, as most people expected her to have. Devon Rutledge is her name, and she was born into one of the richest families in the area. She was a Drake, the oldest daughter of the second son, of Eli Drake, Devon's grandfather. Her uncle once ran one the family business, now her cousin Barnett runs the family empire. Barnett is William Drake's oldest son; William was Devon's uncle and Eli's oldest son. Devon isn't complaining, her money was inherited from her uncle, married money, plus her own working as an agent, keeps her comfortable.
Tucker reflected upon her as she crossed the room in a precise manner. He stood up to greet her.
"Tucker, it's been a long time," Devon said, using platitudes. It wasn't that long ago, but it was in a different role and in a different city.
Tucker smiled, "Not that long, Devon," he said, "But how have you been?" reaching across the table to shake her hand. Devon had a strong commanding grip, Tucker noted.
"I've been, well," Devon said, measured, and took held Tucker's shake, "And, how are you?"
She's measuring me up, Tucker noted. It's all about who and power in this conversation. They broke off their handshake, "I've been good," he said.
Devon nodded, "Good to hear," she said, as they took their seats across from each other at the conference table.
"Thank you," Tucker said.
"I've been watching the raw footage you've filmed on tour with Nordwind," Devon said, "It's shaping up to make a good tour video."
"Hopefully," Tucker said.
"Alix told me she misses you as well," Devon said.
Must love the friends and family deal. The only reason Tacit Blue is managed by Devon is that Alix is Kat's sister. "I miss her too, hopefully, if I can pull this off, with your help, of course, I'll get to spend a week with her," Tucker said.
Devon nodded, "What about the filming for the next leg of Nordwind's tour?" she asked. Showing to Tucker her priority was Nordwind and not Tacit Blue.
"If we pull this off, I'll be flown to meet Nordwind at their first stop on the next leg," Tucker said.
Devon's green gaze narrowed, "You seem to have this all planned out, Tuck," she said. Tucker knew by her tone she was getting serious. He could have sworn her nails were becoming claws, and she was growing fangs. Tucker remembered that Drake meant dragon, and it was something the Drake's like to play up.
"I'm trying, but I don't have a lot of time," Tucker said.
"It's just a music video, Tuck," Devon said, her voice level and with a slight chill. This was something she was known to do when she was entering a dismissive view of a project, "For Chris Keller, none the less."
Tucker nodded, "Look, Devon, it's not like I'm a fan of Keller. A gig is a gig, I've heard you tell your clients that. Look, I need Nordwind's help. I need your help."
"So, for the sake of full disclosure, how can I and Nordwind help you, and god forbid help, Chris Keller?" Devon asked, moving this into the next phase of discussion.
Tucker took a deep breath, "I'd like Nordwind to appear in the video," he said.
"Appear in the video?" Devon asked, "Are you nuts? It's a Chris Keller video, and in what capacity?"
Tucker reached over and picked up a folder. He slid it across the table to Devon. She took it and upon opening, it looked it over. Closing the file, Devon looked back across the table at Tucker. Her green eyes, cold and hard.
"That's all you need, for them to show up, wear their stage gear and be people in the crowd?" Devon asked.
Tucker nodded, "Yes, as well as stomp and clap," he said.
"Money is on the scale," Devon said, "A few hours of work, I can bring it to them."
Tucker nodded, "Thank you, Devon," he said.
Devon nodded, "Hell, I'm a romantic at heart, it will make Alix happy too, a plus," she said, "Do you mind if I keep this folder?"
"That's yours to have if they're in let me know," Tucker said, "So, we can get all the paperwork signed."
Devon nodded, "I'll see what they decide, but I'll present it to them," she said.
"That's all I'm asking for," Tucker said.
Devon stood up. Tucker nodded quickly and stood up. They shook hands across the table again.
"Good luck, either way, Tucker," Devon said.
"Thank you," Tucker replied.
"You're welcome," Devon said and left the room. Tucker sat down and checked his watch. It was a nice watch; his Grandma Baker gave it to him as a graduation present from USC Film School.
It went well with Devon, Tucker reflected. Of the meetings he had today, this was the one he worried about the most. Devon was known to be tough. He knew this afternoon he'd be talking to a few TV stars that would be filming locally. But his next meeting was by far the hardest, and that one was coming up.
Tucker looked at the door and a tall redhead was standing there. Where Devon wore her power vailed in elegance, the metaphorical mailed fist in a velvet glove, this woman carried herself in a way that could only be explained as dominant. Where Devon was a finely crafted sword, this woman is a warhammer. In many respects this made Tucker respect her more. Gianna Cohen was close to twenty years younger than Devon, but she was equally as formidable, just in separate ways.
Tucker noted that today Gianna wore her hair down her back and was in a black power suit. Gianna's were more avian then feline, and there was a sharpness in them.
"Gianna, a pleasure as always," Tucker said and stood up.
"Hmm," Giana said, "What do you want to speak about, Tucker?"
Giana could speak bluntly, Tucker noted, because she represented the interests of the labels top act, both in popularity and in sales, Gothic Serpent. Tucker knew when it came to Gothic Serpent, what Gianna said was law. That's how firm her control was on the business affairs of the band were.
"Please come in, sit down, and we'll discuss my proposal," Tucker said, he always had to play firm, but nice, considering he was almost always the youngest person at the table.
"I'll come in, but sitting I'll decide later," Giana said and walked into the conference room.
Tucker nodded and offered her his hand. Gianna took it and gave it a quick shake. Her shirt and jacket sleeve rode up on her right arm just a little, showing the hint of tattooed ink on her arm. Tucker nodded; he never had the nerve to ask her about the ink.
"Thank you for coming," Tucker said.
"Stuff it, Tucker, what do you need from Gothic Serpent?" Gianna asked.
"Umm," Tucker said, being taken back by her bluntness. He shouldn't have been, as she was known for it, but it was always a shell game with Gianna Cohen.
"Spit it out," Gianna said, "already."
"Well, I'd like Gothic Serpent to appear in a music video I'm shooting this week," Tucker said and reached for a file folder.
Gianna nodded, "Is it this Chris Keller video I heard you're directing?" she asked.
"You've heard about it?" Tucker asked.
A crooked smile broke on Giana's face, "Of course I have, silly, I have eyes and ears everywhere, and it's my job to know things," she said.
Tucker said, "It's pretty basic stuff," he said., and offered her the file folder, "everything you need to know is in there."
Gianna took the folder and opened it. Her eyes scanned the documents like an eagle looking for its next meal. Every so often Gianna would nod or flip a page. Tucker smiled as he watched her scan the documents into her mind.
"So, show up in stage costume, stomp and clap for a few hours and get paid scale," Gianna said.
Tucker nodded, "That's the gist of it," he said.
Gianna nodded, "I have my misgivings," she said.
"How so?" Tucker asked.
"Well I hope it's not a real church or if my people show up it would burst into flames and burn down to the ground," Gianna said, cheekily.
"It's a sound stage, but I don't think that would happen, anyway," Tucker said.
"Little that you know, Tuck," Gianna said.
"Other misgivings?" Tucker asked.
"It's for Chris Keller," Gianna said.
Tucker shook his head, "His name isn't as poison as it once was, and for the record, I'm not too happy to be working with him either, but well, we have to do what we have to do," he said.
Gianna nodded, "A free week with one's girlfriend is a motive too," Gianna said.
"Um, you heard about that," Tucker said.
"I will refer you to what I said about myself earlier," Gianna said.
"Well, any more misgivings?" Tucker asked, trying to ignore Gianna's information.
"His genre of music," Gianna said, "Our genre and his don't even live on the same street never mind meeting."
Tucker nodded, "That's the whole point," he said.
Gianna nodded, "I'll bring this to the band and call you," she said.
"That's all I ask," Tucker said, "and Thank you."
Gianna shook her head, "Don't thank me just yet," she said, "and Goodbye, Tucker."
"Goodbye, Gianna," Tucker said.
She nodded and left, leaving Tucker glad she left, for some reason.