CHAPTER 55 (1)

“That thing you wanted me to keep an eye out for? I’ve got a lead on it,” Jacob says over the phone as I shift out of my car at the studio the next day. “Four bedrooms. Ocean view. Floor-to-ceiling glass. Don’t drool on your shoes.” I shake my head as I grab the front door and head inside. Shane waves at me, and I nod. “Get the realtor to chase it down for me.” “Done. Long as I get first dibs on bedrooms.” I’ve been saving for a place on the beach. My plan is to get my surgery, fix my hand, and get back to my album in warm weather—no more cold winters that make my hand feel useless and broken. But that’s not the only reason for my upbeat mood. I could chalk it up to my surgery coming up soon, but it’s not that. It’s the time I’m spending with Emily, but also creatively, helping Shane. Hell, I even started work with the songs Zeke sent me, though I’m not about to admit it until I go back to LA. Which I have to do soon. But it’s been easy to push that from my mind in light of the chaos of the past few days. I hang up and glance at Shane, who’s unpacking her things at her desk. “Ready to work?” I ask her. “Absolutely.” Her face lights up with enthusiasm. “First, though, you have guests waiting in your office.” I frown, and she hurries to add, “They said they knew you.” I start back there, annoyed someone’s in there without me. I push the door wide and stop in my tracks. Emily’s inside, looking like everything right in the world in a flowy blue dress that makes me want to press her up against the wall and find out if she’s wearing anything under it. “Hey, beautiful. How’s Haley this morning?” “Resting but good. No more pains. And the headaches have subsided.” Last night we got back from the hospital around midnight, after the doctors ran a bunch of tests and diagnosed Haley with preeclampsia. Given she’s not due to deliver for another month, they gave her medication and advised her to stick to bed rest and return if things worsened. I go to kiss Emily but she pulls back. “Slow your roll, Romeo. We’ve got company.” She moves out of the way to reveal Rica slouched in my task chair. I arch a brow at Emily’s former roommate. “You look comfortable.” “Lumbar support is important,” Rica deadpans. But she rises from her chair and I grab her in a one-armed hug she reluctantly allows. Emily says, “She’s stopped over on her way to Miami for a DJ gig.” “Damn. I was just talking to Jacob. He’ll be bummed he missed you.” “What were you talking about?” Emily asks, and my chest tightens as I think about the house. “Ah… nothing. You wanna see Eddie’s new artist?” I lead them to the studio where Shane’s getting set. I nod at her to start. Through the glass, Rica watches intently. She and Emily are both looking for different things than I would—I can tell from the way they watch, the way they listen. It’s the beautiful thing about music—everyone gets something different from it. Rica folds her arms over her chest. “She any good in front of a crowd?” “She’s playing tonight,” I say. “You should come. Both of you.” When Emily and her friend take off, I hold her back for a moment in the hallway to kiss her until she melts under my hands. “Mmm,” she murmurs when I pull back. “What was that for?” “Your dad texted to give me the green light on Shane. Funny how that happened when he was completely opposed to it yesterday.” Her eyes sparkle. “So weird.” It means she and her dad are talking, and Eddie is holding up his end of our bargain. I kiss her again, hard, before letting her go. “Thanks.” Emily tosses me a look over her shoulder as she heads for the door. “Any time.” Since New York, things between us have felt good. We haven’t had a “where is this headed” conversation, which doesn’t feel right given we’re finally spending time together again. But even though I don’t know the specific answer, I know I don’t want to lose her. After I finish working with Shane, I open my email to find a brutal reality check. The note from Zeke’s office is brief but outlines expectations of my contract once I’m back in LA—which I’m supposed to be in another week. There are a dozen attachments. I only open the first two—a schedule for studio time, tens of thousands of dollars’ worth, plus an invitation to a party. The last few weeks, I have been checked out. I needed the time. I need more time. My gut twists. The email is a reminder this is all temporary, that I’m heading back to LA soon—not just for my surgery, but for my life. I’m heading across the parking lot when Emily’s voice from across the fence stops me. “Where are you going?” “Home for a shower and to change before Shane’s show.” I cross to where she’s standing, slide a hand between the fence posts, and wrap my arm around her waist. Her lips curve. “I got some good writing done today.” “Sing for me?” Emily laughs. “You listened to musicians all day long.” “None I wanted to fuck.” Her gaze drops down my body. “You have a change of clothes in the office? You could have dinner with us at the house. Shower after.” Twenty minutes later, we’re arranged around the table in Eddie’s dining room. Sophia’s devouring chicken fingers while the rest of us have grilled salmon. “Forgive the catering,” Haley says. “It’s been a busy few weeks, and it’s getting busier before it gets easier.” “This is great. Thanks, Haley,” I say, and she smiles. “Shane’s set is tonight,” I remind Eddie. “You could come.” He turns it over, glancing at Emily. “It’s fine. My wife could pop any minute.” Haley rolls her eyes. “Emily, I’m not going to pop.” They share a smile that makes me cut a look at Emily. “How’s work going?” Haley asks Emily. “I’m so close to finishing the last song. The reading is scheduled for the first week of September. It’s a chance for a number of people to show off new ideas. Ian’s assistant organizes it and he hosts, but there are lots of other contacts there.” “Ian’s the ex,” Eddie says gruffly. “He’s one of those guys who wears suits for fun,” I add before Emily can speak. Eddie’s gaze narrows. “A douche.” “First-class.” Emily’s jaw drops, and Haley hides a smile behind her napkin. “Thank you for those uninvited opinions on my love life. You don’t know anything about him,” Emily tosses. My muscles tighten in response, my voice lowering. “I know he had you and he let you go.”