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“Sometimes, that can be worse.” I sit at the keyboard. “You need to be semi-aware of the market so you don’t step on anyone’s toes.”
“Jesus, you can’t win.”
“No, you can’t. That’s why you have me, and I’ve got you on this.”
I don’t toss him the notebook. It has my songs in it, and I’m a little sensitive about those right now, especially considering I had Sabrina on my mind and against my body while writing every single one. Instead, I set it up on the keyboard.
“Alright, let’s get to work.”
It takes a good couple hours for him to hear what I have and get an idea of the sound I’m going for. Then, we start finessing it. Mason keeps shaking his head, like he can’t believe it. That feels good. People used to have that reaction more, before I had so much work and less time to spend on it. Before I was ghostwriting more than producing.
The door opens. I glance up as Jamie walks in.
Wait a moment. My hands fall still on the keyboard.
“Where’s Sabrina?”
He makes this face, one I know so well. It always comes before bad news. Standing, I cross the room.
“Where is she?” I demand, voice low.
“She asked me to take her to the airport. Wanted to go see her mom.”
Confusion hits me hard. Did I do something wrong? She seemed fine earlier today. Hell, we slept together, and she was more than happy. Did I say something? I scramble, trying to remember if I said something to hurt her feelings. I don’t think I did. I’ve been so careful with her this entire time.
“What the fuck?” I say.
Jamie steps into the hall, and I go with him, feeling Mason’s concerned gaze follow us. Jamie puts his hands on his hips.
“I told her you hadn’t written anything this good in a decade,” he says.
He doesn’t have to tell me that. I already know.
“You tell her that was because of her?”
“I didn’t have to.”
Jamie is usually the person I reach for when I need a levelheaded opinion. I can’t believe he just took her to the airport without saying a word to me. I can’t tell if I’m hurt or angry or both. Either way, this is going to be one of those rare moments between us where it gets ugly. He kind of fucking deserves it right now.
“You don’t want me with her,” I snap.
“I didn’t,” he admits. “But that was because Bill called me.”
“Bill has his head so far up his ass because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants twenty years ago,” I bark. “That’s got nothing to do with me.”
Jamie folds his hands and puts them on his head, pacing back and forth. Clearly, he knows about the cheating, because he doesn’t ask me what I mean.
“What does this look like?” he says finally.
“What?”
“You and her? You gonna go live on the ranch?”
I shrug. “Maybe. You gonna stop me?”
His boots are wearing holes in the floor. I can tell he’s fighting some internal turmoil. Good. Nobody challenges Jamie because he’s so fucking good at what he does. Hell, I rarely question him. This might be the first time I’ve put up this much resistance.
“You were supposed to break for the summer,” he says finally.
