“Play Bexter Junior’s version of it?” Luke said.
Shit. When they pushed back against Bexter’s version, he was totally going to know that Cerys had helped him make the new version. “I think we just front up. Tell him we like this version better. I know Cerys is concerned how he’ll take it, but she’s happy to stand with us. Assuming we’re agreed we like this version.”
“Dude, stop with the collaborative speak,” Alex said. “It’s freaking me out. Of course we all agree it’s better and the version we actually want to record. And I want to hear the rest.”
Jase grinned, returned to the laptop, and pressed play.
Two hours later, when everyone was agreed they were going to talk to Bexter, Jase sat back in the booth as the rest of the guys discussed getting some food as a late lunch.
While they looked at the menu, Jase quickly messaged Cerys.
They loved them. All of them.
He’d ordered food, a club with onions rings and fries, and was sipping his pint when she replied.
Sorry. Was setting up studio one for some clients coming in. So it went well?
He looked around the table, at the conversation happening around him. Even Luke looked closer to his animated self. Or maybe that was because they’d already lost count of the number of beers they’d had.
Better than I could have imagined. You are one sexy miracle worker.
Not sure sexy and miracles belong in the same sentence.
Look in the mirror, babe.
Sweet talker.
There’ll be no talking when I see you in that apartment of yours you invited me to. Send me the address. I know I dropped you off the other night, but I didn’t write it down.
He grinned when she sent it through with a love heart on the end.
I’m going to be stuck here for the rest of the day but enjoy your afternoon away from the studio. Is it cheesy to say I’ll miss you?
He grinned. Not cheesy at all. I’ll miss you too. Do I have to talk about, like, your intelligence and how smart you are before I just come straight out and say how much I want to get naked with you?
There was a pause. Three bouncing dots in the bottom of his screen.
No. Because I’ve been thinking a lot about it too.
11
The following morning, as Cerys wrapped up her yoga practice, she thought about the conversation she’d had with Jimmy at the studio. While she hated to admit it, something inside her had settled when she called him Dad and not Jimmy, and he hadn’t corrected her.
Not that she was here for a father.
But maybe . . . no. In six weeks, she’d go back home and, at best, would maintain some one-sided communication with him.
She shook the thoughts from her mind, thinking of Jase instead. She’d missed him yesterday, more than she’d thought. Happy in her own company, she’d always been comfortable in or out of a relationship. But last night, in this furnished business apartment with the charm and personality of mushroom soup, she’d missed the very vibration of his presence. The way he’d hum and sing without thought. The way he talked to her about important things and inconsequential things. The way he made her laugh.
It hadn’t even been a week since she’d nearly run him over, and yet her life had changed in unimaginable ways. Her confidence in her music production abilities had never been stronger. Working with Jase had reinforced something in her. She had a skill for getting the best artistry out of people and turning that into something worth listening to. The band loved her arrangements.
Her father had been so pleased with the way she’d taken control of the situation the previous day with Young Punk that he’d softened. Invited her to sit with him while he figured out his strategy for Sad Fridays.
He’d offered to get breakfast.
And she had a not-quite-yet lover . . . boyfriend. Jase. She thought of the string of drunken sexually explicit texts he’d sent at four in the morning that turned her insides to quicksilver when she’d read them as she drank her coffee.
She’d dressed thoughtfully in ripped black jeans and a vintage T-shirt that she’d partnered with heels, a blazer, and a stack of silver bracelets that jangled as she walked. Today was a new day in her career. She couldn’t wait to spend time with Jimmy and looked forward to catching up with Jase later, to hear more about how his conversation with the band had gone.
The drive went smoothly, and she took a minute to update Jase, who was probably still sleeping off their partying.
Zero cars honked at me this morning. I’m getting the hang of being on the wrong side of the road.
“Morning, Cherish,” Jerry said as she stepped inside. “Watch how you go; the hallway is still a little wet.” He nudged his bucket out of the way with his mop.
Gingerly, she made her way to her office.
“Cerys?” her father yelled, poking his head around his office door. He looked flustered. “In my office. Now.”
Her stomach flipped at his tone. This wasn’t the meeting she’d been expecting. “Sure. Let me drop my bags and come see you.”
Once she’d put her things in her tiny office, she headed to his. “What do you need?”
“This morning, I woke to a message from Matt telling me they had some new songs and some thoughts about songs already recorded. They said that things weren’t sitting right with them. Everything felt off. They pushed back against a bunch of suggestions I’d made on songs that weren’t coming together the way I needed them to. They’d put their heads together and come up with a version of a couple of songs they preferred.”
“Okay?” She knew this. Jase had texted her saying Matt was going to broach the subject with Jimmy.
“So, I come in early to the office this morning so I could get my thoughts straight before you and I spoke at eight.” He gestured to the unopened box of pastries and chopped fruit on his desk. “I figured I’d bring up the files on my computer. Listen to the album. See how it’s coming together. You know, from end to end.”
His eyes narrowed on her, and she reached for the chair arm and took a seat. Somehow, she felt like she was about to get scolded for something, like a child. Or this was a weird test of some sort.
“I’m looking through the files, and I find a new folder.”
Shit.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Her father tapped the keys on his laptop and the intro to Jase’s song, “Am I Him?”, played through the attached speakers. “What’s this?” He folded his arms across his chest.
Her chest tightened. She’d promised Jase that she wouldn’t talk about what happened in the recording studio. They’d transferred the files to Jase’s laptop. But the evidence was right there, and the only way it could have gotten there was through her. She hadn’t deleted the files properly.
She and her father would have no basis for any kind of relationship, professional or otherwise, if she lied. But she closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. The happy thoughts of earlier scuttled away under Jimmy’s intense stare.
“It’s a song Jase wrote last weekend.”
“He was with you? At the cottage? The band told me he was resting his voice.”
She should have met with the band yesterday, gone to see them later on in the afternoon so they could get their stories straight. “He’d had a blow up with the band and ran out into the car park, sorry, parking lot. I almost ran him over. They probably told you that so you wouldn’t get mad.”