“Is it?”
“Yeah. You’re there, I record there…”
“Do you even have a house there?”
“No…”
He raises his brows.
“Oh. I guess I just assumed you’d want me to settle down nearby.”
“You see, Mackenzie, there’s this thing called technology.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious, Mac. I was already going to talk with you about limiting the number of weeks you can tour in a year. I see what this place does for you. I’d be an absolute idiot to not encourage you to stay in the place where you’ve just ripped out two songs that will absolutely burn down the charts and win fifteen kinds of awards.”
“God, you are so bossy,” I say, rolling my eyes at him.
“Whatever,” he says, unconcerned. “Now. I’m going to go upstairs and put in some earplugs, and I need you to convince that woman to love you forever. M’kay?”
“I’m pretty sure that just violated, like, seventeen HR rules.”
“My sister runs HR. I’m sure I can get away with it.”
He winks at me and heads up the stairs, whistling the chorus to “Roots and Sky.”
Shaking my head, I make my way down the hall to our bedroom and, fuck it, I make love to the woman I plan on marrying.
* * *
I wakeup early the next morning, energized and looking forward to discussing a strategy with Gene. I need to talk to Kinley, obviously, but I suspect Gene will have some guidance on the business and personal sides of things. He’s been with his husband—an oil-and-gas mega-millionaire-turned-alternative energy genius—since high school.
Whistling, I walk into the kitchen and get the coffee going. Feeling a little chef-y, I grab the ingredients for pancakes and whisk them in the mixing bowl while Kinley’s old cast-iron griddle heats.
Cracking the egg on the side of the bowl, I notice something dripping into the mix. Distantly in my mind, I identify it as tears. My tears. Weird. Sadness hits my chest like a fist, and I feel a powerful sense of déjà vucome over me. Kinda like the first day after the strokes…oh.
I’m about to have a seizure.
I don’t know where the thought comes from, but the egg is already on the floor, so I decide to join it. Shit, what did the doctor say?
If you feel a seizure coming on, lie flat and try to elevate your head.
I reach for the hand towel hanging from the oven, only getting it about halfway under my head before my limbs and neck begin to twitch. I briefly wonder if I’ve died and this is just my body’s electrical systems going out with a bang.
“Oh, is that coffee I smell in here?” Gene asks, walking into the kitchen wearing pajamas with lassos and cowboy boots on them.
Huh. Those are nice pajamas.
“Jesus, Mac!” he says, dropping to the floor next to me, his eyes wide with panic.
You never want someone to look at you the way Gene is now.
My eyes roll back, and I hear him screaming for Kinley. My last thought before losing consciousness is that I don’t want to die before asking her if I can build a studio next to her house.
* * *
Kinley rodewith me in the ambulance, which was way more fun than the helicopter ride.
