Is this the moment when he’s going to recognize me? “I have a drum set—nothing fancy, but it gets the job done.”
“You’ve got a gift.”
Warmth mushrooms through me. Axel Cox just paid me a high compliment. What alternate world did I step into? I can’t believe I’m here with him in his music room. Yes, I’m geeking out.
“So are you from around here?”
“I am,” I say smoothly as guilt twists me like a pretzel. If he ever finds out who I am, he’s going to hate me. I just need to make dang sure that he never connects me with Jovie Chord. I can’t believe he doesn’t even find me remotely familiar. Crazy, considering I was friends with his sister and have been in his childhood home a couple of times.
“Are you planning on becoming an interior designer?”
“Maybe,” I hedge. “Right now I’m just trying a few things—seeing what sticks.”
“I get that.”
I shift the focus. “What about you? You’ve been so successful. What’s next?”
He exhales slowly. “That’s the million-dollar question.”
I take a leap. “I heard you broke from South Bound.Are you doing okay?”
“I’m fine.” His voice goes flat as a veil slips over his eyes.
He’s not ready to talk. At least not yet. “What’re you doing now?”
He gives me a sardonic smile. “You’re looking at it.”
“Writing new stuff?”
“Trying to. Getting back to basics—lyrics, melody, the heart of it. Mostly, I’m trying to remember why I wanted to go into the business in the first place.”
He wouldn’t be the first musician to hit it big and then become disillusioned with the profession. When you shoot to the stars, there’s nowhere to go but down. I say that like I know when I’ve never been fortunate enough to leave earth, much less soar to the stars. If I were a real journalist, I’d be writing under my real name rather than drudging up dirt on other people. I’d like to think I’m a step above the paparazzi, but Axel would argue otherwise.
I want to press him more about his split from the band, but my instincts shout that if I do, he’ll put up a blocker. I steer to a safer topic. “It sounds like your party is going to be amazing.”
He shrugs. “I guess.”
“You’re not excited about it?”
“It’s Zoe’s thing.” He pauses. “She and my manager felt like it would be good timing, considering what happened with South Bound.”
“Are a lot of notable people coming?”
“They are.”
Silence stretches between us. “Well, I’d better get back to work.” I throw him a smile. “Someone has to get your house ready for the big shindig.”
“There’s plenty of time. Let’s go again.” He throws me a taunting grin. “That is, unless you’ve forgotten the rhythm.”
“Not on your life.” I tap out the beat.
He picks up the trumpet, and we fall into rhythm once more—music filling the space between us, every beat winding my tension tighter. What in the heck am I doing? There’s no way I can fall for Axel Cox … again. He has a girlfriend, and he loathes me … err, Jovie.
My phone buzzes midway through the song. I ignore it and keep playing. It stills for a second and vibrates again. When we finish, I put down the drumsticks and pull out my phone. “It’s Bianca. I’d better get it. Hello.”
She launches in with, “I told you to answer your phone when I call.”
“Sorry, it took me a minute to get to it.”
