Later, she’d check out the other bedrooms but suspected they would be more of the same, which meant she’d stay put.
“How bored do you get out here?”
As if she hadn’t said a word, Quentin placed the suitcase he’d carried next to the one she’d set down. “Want to see the studio?”
“Yes, please.” After all, that was why she was here.
After climbing the steps to the hallway landing, he led her up the other steps that went to the upper level. At the top there were only two doors, and he moved to the one to the left. When he placed his hand on the doorknob, he seemed to tighten his fingers, then relax before gripping the knob again and opening it. Raine didn’t say anything…but she hadn’t missed it.
Was he…nervous?
When they entered the studio, she was surprised because there wasn’t a single window here. After all the glass in the rest of the house, it seemed like a completely different place. Considering the glass and wood separation between the two parts of the studio, that wasn’t entirely true—but there were no windows looking outside at the landscape.
There would be no distractions in here.
Although this room seemed no nonsense like the rest of the house—it was absolutely gorgeous. Here was likely where this man had sunk most of his money, and he’d spared no expense. She’d been in both high-end and bargain basement studios during her short career, and this was near the top. The equipment both in the control room and outside it where she’d probably spend more of her time appeared to be the best of the best.
But she noticed that everything seemed to have a place and it was in it—meaning she’d probably have to watch herself.
“Can you see yourself working here?” he asked, his voice reserved.
“Yeah. This place is amazing.” It was the first pleasant surprise she’d experienced in a long time, especially since having to commit to this. “But is there anything to do around here?”
“You’d be surprised if you opened your eyes.”
“I just don’t get why you’d be living in a place like this with nothing.”
Quentin’s face was unreadable. “It’s got a lot of things going for it and the best thing is lack of distractions. You might be interested to know Wayne Static lived here at the end of his life.”
“Who?”
“Have you heard of Static X?”
“Maybe.”
When he let out a slow breath, she asked, “When do we start?”
“First, we need to go over a few ground rules.”
No doubt bullshit from the label. Rules didn’t set well with her. Her compliance depended on what the hell they’d be—but just thinking about it made her bristle. “Like what?”
“Follow me.” Down the stairs they went back to the main level. They passed a couple of doors in the hallway—a bathroom and a room with weights and a treadmill. “You’re welcome to work out in here—and feel free to take walks around the property when we’re not working, but keep your eyes peeled for rattlesnakes and scorpions. They won’t go out of their way to attack you, but if they feel threatened, they can inflict harm.”
“I think I’ll stay inside. It’s cooler in here anyway.”
As if he hadn’t heard her, he continued walking down the hallway, expecting her to follow. Although she’d noticed the kitchen earlier, now she got a better look. The stone floor was practical, the wood cabinets functional, the black features throughout the room understated—and there was nothing on the counters, not even so much as a toaster. The wooden table had six chairs around it, but she doubted he ever had people here to use them all. And, of course, even in here there were plenty of windows. One thing the house had going for it: plenty of space.
“You can eat anything you find in the kitchen, but you’re also welcome to eat what I cook. Your manager told me you didn’t have any food allergies. Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now…I don’t care when you get out of bed, but we will begin work at eight o’clock sharp—so, if you want breakfast, you’ll need to get up earlier than that. We’ll take a lunch break from twelve to one, but then we’ll be back at it.”
“What about creativity? I’m not always ready to work on a schedule.”
“We’ll account for that. If you’re not there mentally, say the word and we’ll call it a day. And if I’m not up for it, I’ll leave and let you do your thing. But we will plan on a regular schedule, and when we are working, there will be no distractions. Do not bring your phone in the studio. We’re there to work and nothing else. We’ll end the work session at five unless we’re on fire—or if we’re exhausted.”
Nodding, Raine bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from lashing out. Even though his rules made her rankle, she could handle them.
