Dirty Diana by January James

Chapter Twenty-Three

Iwalked, numbly, towards Empirical Records HQ. I’d texted Marla to arrange a meeting with all the staff in an hour. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. I didn’t need to be told I couldn’t utter a word about the people I’d just met; I’d be ended far more quickly if I let on the three biggest dicks in the music industry were controlling everything about it. Garrett would have spoken to Jude but how much he’d truly know was anyone’s guess. It didn’t matter. He’d be busy getting the announcement signed off, the details approved by lawyers, the logistics put in place. As much as Jude supposedly cared, he wouldn’t have time to even think about the repercussions it was going to have on my little label.

Everything was coming to an end. Phoenix, my job, my relationship with Jude, whatever that was. After the announcement, we’d all be on notice, out looking for other jobs, trying to piece our lives together. Jude would be holed up working through the finer details of closing down not one but three subsidiaries; he’d have no time to console me, and neither would I want him to. He wouldn’t have won; it wasn’t even his game we were playing, but with this and the fact Aaron was somewhere nearby, my relationship with Jude had been forced to its inevitable, messy conclusion.

I pushed open the door with a heavy heart, and watched my feet as they stepped, one at a time, mechanically towards the elevator. I looked up to push the button and my chest swelled, possibly for the last time.

“Don’t…” I whispered, silently imploring him to leave me alone; there was no point.

Jude looked down at me but I couldn’t meet his eyes. The elevator arrived and the doors opened. Three other employees approached but Jude held a hand up to stop them entering the elevator. He stepped in behind me and punched the button to close the door. I finally looked up and saw fire in his face. He was boiling over with anger. I had to stop myself from shrinking backwards as the doors closed. We hadn’t got halfway to the floor above when he punched the buttons again, bringing the elevator to an emergency stop. Before I could object, he pulled me into his chest, pushing his fingers into my hair, holding my head firm against him.

“I’m coming with you,” he murmured into my hair.

I couldn’t reply. I was trying with every breath to stop the tears. I couldn’t afford for my team to see me this broken.

“I’m coming to the meeting,” he said. I didn’t have the brain space to question just how bad an idea that was. He hadn’t even made an announcement to the whole company about his plans—in fact, the lawyers were probably still going over them. “You’re not doing it alone.”

He released my head and I pulled back to look at him. His eyes were swimming with emotion.

“Not because I don’t think you can do it,” he hastened to say. “But because I have something to add.” His fingers stroked my forehead as he moved stray hairs from my broken eyes. “It’s your meeting, but I’m coming with you.”

I still couldn’t speak so I nodded.

“I love you, Diana,” he said, his voice soft and breathy. Then he lifted my chin and brought his lips gently down onto mine. I hiccupped against his mouth, finally unable to hold it all back. He pressed down, swallowing my sobs, and teased his tongue between my lips to distract me. His fingers clutched at my hair, massaging my scalp, and I clung to his waist for fear I might buckle under the weight of everything that was happening to me. He kissed me as though he really meant those words, though I still couldn’t bring myself to believe them.

When he finally pulled back, he wiped a finger beneath my eyes, erasing any trace of tears.

“Garrett told me everything. I know who’s behind it. I know what we have to do.”

I nodded again, the feeling of catastrophic failure and disappointment in an industry I loved scratching at me with sharp claws.

He hit the button and the elevator resumed its upward journey.

“I’ll see you in an hour,” he said, planting one last soft kiss on my lips, just before the doors opened. I watched him head back down the corridor to his own office, while I made my way numbly back to mine.

* * *

Exactly one hour later,I walked through the silence to the front of the biggest meeting room we had, and turned to face everyone. Most of my team—all thirty or so of them—had been with me from the beginning, investing as much of their time, passion and energy into this business as I had. Their expressions told me they knew what I was about to say. Some had even shed tears already—their mottled cheeks and red-ringed eyes gave them away. Sheridan and Carlos sat to the left and right. They were sitting with their teams while shooting me simultaneous looks of sympathy and encouragement. I didn’t know where to start. In the time since I’d arrived back at my office and then walked here, to this meeting room, I’d simply stared out of the window, knowing it was unlikely I’d ever be able to look out at that view again. I hadn’t written anything down; I hadn’t thought about how I’d approach this. I had to wing it.

“Thanks everyone for coming at such short notice,” I began. I paused to look around. Everyone’s eyes were on me, waiting for me to drop the bomb. A few looked slightly hopeful, in denial about the inevitable. “I want to start by thanking you for everything you’ve done to get us to this point.”

I heard a small sob from the back of the room, and saw my assistant Marla put her arm around Dree.

“We’ve managed to do the impossible. We’ve taken a small indie label with a small voice and turned it into one of the famous brands on the planet with a lot to say. We’ve put indie music back on the map, giving hundreds of musicians a spotlight they deserve but never would have had if it weren’t for us. We’ve reinvigorated music. Our own acts have shot up the Billboard charts and are being recognized as the phenomenal talents they are—even Cherry,” I added, to a collective chuckle. “We’ve kicked ass at Madison Square Gardens!” I said, raising my arms. “I mean, who gets to do that?”

A sea of smiles emboldened me.

“We are the best team in the music industry right now. We are unbeatable.”

I let the words hover in the air before I smashed my fist into them, shattering the illusion.

“We’re going to go out on a high,” I said, firmly. “We’re going to be remembered for this moment. Not as the label that peddled out Cherry Tatum for four years, but as the label that shook the industry, that gave indie music a voice again.” I wanted to add we’d be the last label to ever do it, but I couldn’t let on what I knew.

More sobs emerged from around the room. It was obvious what I was saying. My attention was suddenly drawn to the back of the room, to the doorway, which was being filled with the presence of a man who knew exactly what this moment meant to me. I continued, smiling.

“In a way, having the threat of closure hanging over us was the best thing that could have happened to the industry. By trying to save Phoenix, we’ve given hundreds of bands a voice; we’ve exposed fans from the most unlikely places; we’ve put indie music front and center again—exactly where it belongs.”

I saw Jude push himself off the doorframe and start walking towards me. Heads turned and glared at him as he passed.

“I don’t know what will happen to indie music now,” I continued in an attempt to draw people back—Jude didn’t deserve their disdain. “After we go, there will only be three other labels left in the States to represent those indie artists. We should feel proud that we’ve breathed life into the scene in such a big way. Maybe indie music will live on.” I didn’t believe the words as I spoke them, but if I couldn’t leave them with jobs, I would at least leave them with hope.

Jude reached my side and turned to face everyone. I could see the looks of confusion as peoples’ eyes darted between Jude and me. As far as they were all aware, Jude and I hated each other. As the NYT had stated, we were the two Brits supposed to be at loggerheads.

“There will be an announcement tomorrow morning…” I began, my concern for Jude growing as he faced all those whose jobs he was about to make redundant.

Jude turned and put a hand on my arm. “May I say a few words?”

“Of course,” I replied, wondering why he wanted to throw himself into the bear pit twice. Why do it now if he was going to have to do it all again tomorrow?

“The announcement tomorrow has been delayed,” he said to the room. My head snapped up to look at him. He didn’t return my surprised stare. Instead he took my hand in his and squeezed it. It didn’t go unnoticed. The entire front three rows of people stared at our hands tightly clasped, no doubt wondering what the hell was going on, and why their boss was in cahoots with the enemy. “And I won’t be taking it.”

I glanced back at Sheridan and Carlos who were staring at Jude with open mouths. None of us knew what was going on. Except Jude.

“I’ve quit as CEO of Empirical Records,” he continued, and I couldn’t hide my gasp. He turned to face me. “I’d like to take up the post of CEO, Phoenix Music, on a temporary basis, if that’s alright with you,” he looked at me questioningly, but I couldn’t move. “I won’t take a salary. We’re going to need all the money we can get.”

He turned back to face the room.

“Diana and I discovered something today. She wasn’t going to tell you because she didn’t want to put anyone else in the same position she’s in—that if she continues to push for Phoenix to be saved, her life, inside and outside the music industry, in no uncertain terms, will be ruined.”

I felt everyone’s eyes return to me.

“Most of you know I’m here to work on a brief from the Chairman of the board and our shareholders, to propose changes to the structure of Empirical Records. Well, it has come to light today, that the brief I’ve been given didn’t, in fact, come from our Chairman and shareholders, it came from somewhere entirely different.”

The whole room was hanging on to his every word and I felt beads of sweat running down the back of my neck.

“Diana met with Ralph Zeiner, the CEO of HPI today.”

There was an audible gasp.

“And Marty Weissenberg of Blue Hill.”

A wave of shock rocked the room.

“And Donnie Hoffman.”

Everyone seemed to have stopped breathing.

“They threatened Diana.” I stared up at Jude. How did he know that?

“They told her if she didn’t stop this campaign they would shut her and us down. And, collectively, they have the power to do exactly that. They don’t want independent voices out there. They want the world to be awash with bland, manufactured artists who do what they’re told, and not what they feel in their hearts. They’re shutting all the indie labels down, one by one. And most of them are going—they’re fading away and taking valuable talent with them. But when it came to shutting down Phoenix, what they were not bargaining for was Diana.”

He looked at me again, his eyes full of emotion. I still couldn’t speak. I felt as though I was in the heart of a tornado. Chaos was swirling all around me, but inside my bubble, the air I’d wrapped around myself, all was oddly calm. I knew there was nothing more I could do; I just had to let it all unfold.

“Your Vice President has not only pulled this label out of debt, she’s put flames beneath it. She ignited a movement that never would have happened otherwise. We knew it hadn’t pleased everyone, but until today we didn’t know to what extent it had pissed off some of the most powerful people in this industry.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off Jude. I watched his jaw move as he talked, feeling sure my love for him was written all over my face, but I didn’t care.

“We’re going to fight,” he announced suddenly, and the whole room erupted. I looked around, confused. One minute I was about to close down my label and surrender to the forces that didn’t want us around; the next I was hearing my supposed enemy announcing we weren’t going to just roll over and take it. We were going to take on the most powerful men in music. He was mad. He was absolutely and unequivocally mad.

“It might not work,” he continued. “We might be totally annihilated, as they’ve threatened, and you may be further away than ever of staying in an industry you love, but we’re going to go down fucking fighting.”

People whooped and high-fived, while others shouted questions. Jude raised his hand for calm.

“I’ll take questions in a moment. First, let me tell you briefly what we’re going to do. We’re going to be hit hard by the bigwigs with money. Diana will update you on that. As CEO, I believe it is my job to provide you with the environment and resources with which you can do the best job under the circumstances. As of this afternoon, we will be based out of my house on West eighty-ninth. As soon as word leaks that I’ve quit to support Phoenix, security will kick us out of here. As soon as we finish this meeting, collect all your personal belongings and any files you think will be important. Email documents to personal accounts, download folders, whatever you can. Everything will be confiscated before the day is out. I will provide computer equipment. Come straight to my house—I’ll get take-out, we’ll make a plan.”

He continued. “Notify all our acts of the change in our location. We’ll need to start the business over, but we’ll fight for the name. I have lawyers who will help. Diana and I will obviously need to work closely together; she’s going to move in and be based at my house for the duration of this rescue.”

I stared at him and he squeezed my hand again. I could tell there were many in the room now questioning our relationship, despite the fact it was alleged we could barely sit in the same room together. Part of me was grateful for him taking control and doing all this when I, frankly, was exhausted and beaten down after that morning’s meeting. But part of me was annoyed that he’d announced this without discussing it with me first. I knew he’d done it on purpose. I’d already turned down his invitation to move in with him once. He was doing this out of concern for my safety. I was the face of Phoenix now; he needed me.

I looked at Sheridan and saw her lips had curled at the sides, clearly pleased that Jude had made some sort of move. Carlos, who was none the wiser as of yet about my stalker stepfather, was frowning in confusion at the sudden turn of events.

“The first thing we’re going to do,” Jude went on. “Is go to the press with everything we know.”

I moved to interject but Jude shot me a wink, melting my stomach.

“Alex Jefferson, your former CEO is on board. He is a witness to what we now know is blackmail: the chairmen and CEOs of this industry have been threatened with aggressive action if they don’t comply and close down the labels supporting independent music. He’s going to join us this evening.”

I saw the smiles spread across the room. Everyone had loved Alex. To know he was going to be involved in our mission gave everyone a little more confidence that whatever we were going to do might actually work.

“Before we all leave, I have one last thing to say.”

The room fell silent.

“We are going to come under fire. There will be exposes and accusations. Warn your friends and families they may be approached by reporters. There will be extreme restrictions placed on what we can do – studio availability, ad space, promo opportunities, venues, you name it. We’ll need to get creative about where we get exposure for our acts. And we’ll need to thicken our skin. Do you think you can do it?”

The entire room exploded with cries of ‘fuck, yes’, whoops and cheers. I couldn’t stop tears from streaking down my face and I squeezed Jude’s hand gratefully. He didn’t let go until everyone had filed out of the room to hastily rescue all the corporate information they could. Then he turned to me and placed a finger on my lips.

“Don’t say a damn thing,” he said. “I’ll see you at home.”

Then he strode out of the room, leaving me at a complete and utter loss for words.