“That’s the point. It’s supposed to be underwhelming. Can’t exactly advertise the place,” she explains as I put the Jeep in Park. Since I moved in, I’ve realized that Presley hates driving and is always happy to hand the task over to me, which I’m more than willing to do.
I kind of want to buy her a new car, though.
This one has seen better days.
“Because of all the high-profile clients?”
She nods. God, she looks good today. I don’t know how she manages to make a simple pair of jeans and a T-shirt look so sexy, but she does.Stop staring, asshole.“It doesn’t completely deter unwanted guests, but it helps. Plus, we have a wicked security system.”
I help her with the takeout we grabbed on the way here, and we head toward the entrance. Other than a camera perched in the corner and a keypad on the door, there is nothing that stands out. But, like she said, I guess that’s the point.
Pres takes out her phone and types something in. A second later, she punches in a code. “Okay, we’re good.”
I grab the door and follow her in, and instantly we’re transported. It’s like walking through the wardrobe into Narnia. Only instead of snow and lions, there’s vinyl and guitars.
The lighting is moody, and the floors are made of warm wood with wool rugs running up the center to dampen the sound. The dark walls of the hallway are lined with records—all gold and platinum. Since we’re in a hurry, I don’t stop to check out the artists, but the sheer volume is impressive.
We head down the hall, past some offices and bathrooms, and then Pres leads us to the sound booth.
Sitting in front of the biggest soundboard in existence is a grown-up version of the girl who used to stomp into my bedroom, critique my music choices, and then come back twenty minutes later with a playlist she insisted was better.
Damn if she wasn’t always right.
While Pres favors her mother’s fairer features, Mercury takes after Lance. Her long chestnut hair is tied back in a practical ponytail at the nape of her neck, and she wears tailored black pants and a cream-colored sweater.
With large headphones held to her ear, she’s so immersed in what she’s doing that she doesn’t even seem to hear us come in.
“See what I mean?” Pres says, leaning against the door. She gestures to her sister. “Total nerd.”
“Come here and listen to this.” Merc waves Presley over, not even flinching at the abrupt sound of her voice.
Pres gives me awhat-the-fucklook, and I just shrug. “Bat hearing?” I mouth,and she snickers.
I set the food down and watch my wife walk over to join Mercury at the soundboard. She takes the seat next to her. Merc hands her a twin set of headphones, and Pres mimics her, holding them up to one ear so she can still hear with the other.
Her brow scrunches together as they listen to the track together. She closes her eyes ever so slightly.
She looks so in her element.
Pres talks about Mercury’s talent for music, but she has it too. All the Creed kids do. It’s in their blood, and right now, it’s showing.
The selection must come to an end as both women set down their headphones, and Merc looks at her sister. “Well?”
I lean against the wall, quietly observing the exchange. “It needs something,” Pres says.
“I know, but I can’t decide what exactly it’s missing, and I’m running out of time.”
“Wasn’t this supposed to be your break?” Pres teases. It earns her a glare. She lifts her hands in defense. “Okay, okay. I get it. You’re stressed. Let me listen to it again, and I’ll help you out, okay? But in the meantime, will you do me a favor?”
“What?”
She gestures over her shoulder at me. “Will you turn around and meet your new brother-in-law?”
“No,” Pres says firmly, shaking her head.
“Yes! It was your idea,” Merc reminds her.
They’re face-to-face, arms crossed, glaring at each other. Presley is half a foot taller, but Merc is twice as determined. Theyboth turn to me, and I instantly raise both my hands. “Oh, no. Do not make me decide. I am not voting against my wife.”
