A Loving Light
Copyright© 2026 by Marc Nobbs
Chapter 6: We Hear You
It turned that out organising a four-party international video conference was much easier than arranging an in-person board meeting between three directors of a small company and their new lawyer.
Marie had trouble finding a suitable time when David, Bobby, and the lawyer Jeremy had recommended were all available, which is why it was pushed back to the weekend. However, she managed to organise a video call for Thursday involving me from my home in Westmouth, Ben and Amiee from their office in London, Glenn from his office in Nashville, and Carly from her parents’ house in Beaverbrook, Alabama. The call was scheduled for five o’clock UK time, which would be mid-morning for Glenn and Carly.
Ben, Amiee, and I were planning to join the call early so they could walk me through their negotiations so far, and then Glenn and Carly would join us at five.
Naturally, I invited Marie to join me on the call, and she chose to do so from David’s office, making it a five-way call. Well, six, as it turned out, because Ben and Amiee were on their own laptops from different parts of the same office building.
“I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” I said. “This meeting is a big deal.”
“You’ll be fine, I know you will,” Lana said. “Look at how you handled Alastair on Tuesday. You were completely in control of that meeting and, trust me, that’s hard to do with him. He...” She smiled. “He likes to talk. And go off on tangents.”
I nodded. We were walking from her flat on campus back to my house.
I gave her a tight smile. “That was different. I walked into that meeting knowing I was about to make a donation that could really make a difference to the trust. I knew he would be grateful. But this is Carly’s manager and ... Well, he’s got much more experience than me. How do I know if he’s trying to take advantage of me?”
“That’s your lawyers’ job—to make sure he doesn’t. That’s what you pay them for.”
“I know, but...” I shrugged.
“And besides, I don’t think he wants to take advantage of you. He wants the same thing you do—a successful tour that helps boost Carly’s career. Remember, he gets a cut of the money she makes, so he wants her to make as much money as possible.”
“I guess.”
“Trust me, Paul, you’ve got this. A man who appreciates the finer qualities of a good roast potato can handle some seasoned music manager.”
I smiled as I recalled the dinner she’d cooked for me and her flatmates the previous evening—roast beef and all the trimmings. “They were damn good roast potatoes. Crisp on the outside, soft inside. Just perfect.”
“You know it,” she said, grinning.
“The mash was pretty awesome too.”
“What can I say? I’m an awesome cook.” She paused. “Thank you for inviting me this evening. You really didn’t have to.”
“I just thought you might like to see Carly as well as speak to her.”
“Yeah, I would. But ... I don’t know ... I probably shouldn’t be there for the actual meeting. I really don’t need to know the details of your financial affairs.”
I shrugged. “Maybe. But I value your opinion. You’re my ... I don’t know ... Altruistic Capitalism advisor.”
She chuckled. “Alt Cap Ad?”
“Alt Cap Addy,” I corrected with a smirk. “Sounds a bit better.”
I stopped walking, which made Lana stop too, then turned to face her. I held out my hand vertically, then tapped her on each shoulder with it, as if I were bestowing a knighthood on her.
“There,” I said. “You’re now officially my Altruism Advisor.”
She rolled her eyes at me.
“I should put you on the payroll. Only ... I don’t have a payroll.”
We started walking again.
“I do hope you’re joking,” she said. “I don’t want you to pay me, Paul.”
I glanced at her. “I should, though, really. Pay you for your time. But I understand why you don’t want me to.”
“Good.”
“Of course, paying you for your time is the altruistic thing to do.”
“And not accepting it is even more altruistic. It means I’m giving of my time.”
I grinned. “I concede the honourable lady’s point.”
She burst out laughing and shook her head. “Idiot.”
I raised my eyebrows and grinned even wider.
By this time, we’d left campus and were passing the row of shops where Jak’s café was.
“Am I doing the right thing?” I asked, my tone level.
“Right thing about what?”
I shrugged. “Everything.”
She waited for me to elaborate.
“For one, splitting the Alabama Sweetheart revenue the way I plan to. I mean, if it hits Marie’s projections, I could be giving away two hundred thousand pounds on top of the hundred thousand going to Blackfriars’ Nightmare. From one single. Altogether, it could be five or six times that.”
“And keeping seven hundred thousand just from ‘Always,’” she replied. “If the album does as well as everyone hopes, you’ll be raking it in.”
“And giving away even more.”
She shrugged. “So you give away one and a half million but keep three and a half. You’re still quids in.” She smiled. “And the people you give the money to will make very good use of it. You heard what Alastair said. The money from ‘Always’ could pay for three full-time teachers. Do you have any idea how many extra kids can have music lessons with three extra full-time teachers? Now imagine what they could do with three, four or five times that much.”
“I know, but still ... It’s a lot of money.”
“And what you keep is always going to be even more. You’re doing the right thing, Paul. You really are.” She paused. “What else? You said, ‘for one,’”
“This meeting. This tour. Should I be getting involved? Isn’t it ... I don’t know ... Interfering?”
“Was funding her album interfering?”
I shook my head.
“Then this isn’t either. It’s not like you’re going to be telling her what to do, is it? Even with your ‘brilliant idea.’ Which is brilliant, by the way, and I think Carly will love it. Not sure her manager will, but she will.”
“You haven’t told her, have you?”
“And spoil your fun? No, I haven’t told her.”
“So, you don’t think I’m interfering or ... I don’t know ... Trying to control her?”
“I think you’re doing exactly what you did with the album. Giving her the freedom to be the artist she wants to be and put on the show she wants to put on.”
I grinned. “Those are Carly’s words, aren’t they? Not yours.”
She shrugged.
“She really does appreciate what you’re doing for her, Paul. She says that any other tour promoter would be demanding some control, but you’re not.”
“Promoter?” I sighed. “That’s what Carly called me as well.”
She nodded. “I know. Because that’s what you are. A Tour Promoter. You’re Carly’s promoter. Her supporter.” She paused. “Her biggest supporter.”
I took a deep breath and shook my head. “I guess I need to get into character. Put my game face on.”
“Time to put your business hat on.” She grinned.
“It’s not a hat,” I said. I looked ahead, gazing into the distance. “It’s a mask.”
I glanced at Lana. She looked concerned. She was frowning, but there was warmth in her eyes.
“A mask?”
I nodded.
“Paul?”
“Yeah?”
“That’s the right thing to do, too.”
“What is?”
“Keeping ‘Business Paul,’ as a ‘character,’ as a mask you wear—someone separate from the real you. I don’t want the ‘Business’ you to take over. No one does. I prefer the real you.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I think I do too.”
“Hi, guys,” I said to the screen. “This feels ... weird.”
“Tell me about it,” said Marie.
Lana and I sat at the dining table in my unofficial ‘boardroom’ with my laptop in front of us. On the screen were four boxes showing Lana and me, as well as the smiling faces of Marie, Ben, and Amiee.
“Oh, we’ve been doing meetings like this for six months,” Amiee said, “And I’m still not used to it. I always feel so self-conscious. It doesn’t help that I can see my own face in a box on the screen. I have to force myself not to keep looking at it.”
“I could respond to that,” Ben said, grinning, “But it would get me into trouble.”
“You are not so far away that I can’t get up out of my seat and come and slap you,” Amiee said playfully.
Ben laughed heartily. Yeah, there was definitely something more between these two than just being colleagues.
“You do know you can change the settings so only the person speaking is on the screen, right?” Ben said.
“Yes,” Amiee said. “But you can still see yourself in a smaller box at the top. Unless you’re the only one speaking, and then you fill the screen. It’s very disconcerting.”
“Ben, Amiee, this is Lana Carrington,” I said. “She’s my new, official Altruism Advisor.”
“Since when?” Marie asked.
“Since about ten minutes ago,” I said. In our box on the screen, I could see Lana roll her eyes.
“What’s her salary?” Marie asked, smirking.
“Zero,” I said. “I altruistically offered her minimum wage, but she altruistically offered her time and skills for free.”
Lana slapped me playfully on the arm.
“She’s also a law student,” I added, “But she’s only a first year, so...” I shrugged.
I could see the ‘look’ she gave me on the screen. Ben and Amiee both laughed.
Lana looked at the screen. “Hi, guys. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” said Ben. “So, shall we get started?”
“Yes, let’s get cracking,” I said.
“Okay, well, first off,” Ben said, “When the others join us, you need to make sure you’re the one in charge of this meeting, not Glenn. He’s a tough customer. A tough negotiator, but you’re the one with the money on the line, so you call the shots, not him. He’ll try to tell you he knows best, and honestly, he probably does, but don’t let him act like he’s the one in charge. He’s not. You are. You and Kayla. He works for her, not the other way around.”
I nodded. “Got it. Get my game face on. Be professional. Be tough.”
“Not ‘tough,’” said Amiee. “Be ‘you.’ That’s part of your appeal. You’re young, but you know what you want, and you know when to listen to the experts like Glenn. Just let him know that while you value his opinion, you value Kayla’s more, and that you get the final say.”
I took a deep breath. Then glanced at Lana. She smiled and nodded.
I looked back at the screen. “Okay. Got it. I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will,” said Ben. “And Amiee and I will do our best to keep him in line, too. Honestly, Paul, he’s really good at what he does, and this negotiation was a lot trickier than the one with the label for the album. They wanted a deal, any deal, and caved in easily. Glenn wants what’s best for his client, and he fought for it.”
“I want what’s best for his client, too.”
“But not at the expense of what’s best for you,” Amiee said. “And that’s where the tension was.”
“I sent the contract to your email,” Ben said. “You had a chance to look at it?”
“Only very quickly.”
“You want us to go through it all?”
I shook my head. “I trust you guys. Trust you to earn your fees by looking after me. Just tell me what I need to know for this meeting. The headlines.”
Ben nodded. “Amiee?”
On the screen, I saw Marie pick up a pen and prepare to start making notes. I should probably have done the same. But I didn’t.
“Okay, well, the deal is that you fully fund the tour,” Amiee said. “All the costs—that’s venue hire, advertising, fees for the artists, the stage crew, catering, and insurance. Everything. All on you.”
“How much is that going to cost?”
“Your total exposure could be as high as three and a quarter million dollars,” she said.
“Ouch,” I said.
“Christ,” Marie said quietly. “That’s over two million quid.”
“But that includes Kayla’s guarantee,” Ben said, “which is the lion’s share of it, nearly one and a half million, out of which she pays her band and the tour personnel.”
“Sorry,” I said, “What does that mean? What’s a guarantee?”
“What it sounds like, you’re guaranteeing the artist a minimum fee,” he said. “Even if you sell zero tickets and no one turns up to watch, she still gets that fee.”
“Okay. I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
“But if the tour makes a profit that is higher than the guarantee, then she gets a percentage of that instead. Well, if her percentage of the profit is higher than the guarantee, she gets the percentage.”
“In other words,” said Amiee, “She either gets sixty-five percent of the profit from each show, or seventy-five grand per show, whichever is higher.”
“That was why we phrased it as your total ‘exposure,’” Ben said. “If the tour goes badly, that’s how much you could lose.”
“Got it.”
“On the plus side,” said Ben, “If the tour is successful and each show gets near to being a sell-out, then you’re looking at ticket revenue alone of up to five and a half million. Then you’ve got a share of merchandise sales on top of that, and Glenn thinks he can get some sponsors on board as well. Total gross revenue could be well over six million.”
“Dollars?”
“Yeah, everything’s in dollars.”
“What’s that in pounds?”
“Paul,” said Amiee, “It’s going to be best to think in dollars throughout this. If you start trying to convert everything, you’ll get yourself into a hell of a mess. The only time you need to think in pounds is the amount you send over to cover the costs before the revenue starts coming in, and then what comes back to you at the end.”
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