Page 7 of Erik

I chuckle. “I was wondering who’d have imagined I was a tech genius. Or that you were a visionary.”

He shrugs. “In college, I kept telling people that I saw things nobody did. But did anyone believe me? Nope.”

“Because you were always wasted.”

He nods. “Point taken.”

Hadley spreads butter on half of a baguette before adding a slice of mozzarella cheese, another of country ham, black olives, and covers with the other half of the bread. He squeezes his eyes shut as he takes a bite and I swallow hard.

“That looks yummy. I’ll try it tomorrow.” I glance down. “I’ve got enough on my plate as it is.”

“Speaking of which.” With an exaggerated scowl, he stabs the air with an index finger, and asks, "Who's being irresponsible now, young lady?” He leans forward until our noses almost touch, the corners of his lips tremble with suppressed amusement. “So, you’ve taken a sabbatical to go have fun and I’m the one left behind to hold the fort?”

I let out a loud sigh. “Oh, boy!” Snickering, I add, “You could always come with.”

“Thank you. But, no, thank you.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Excited to make your debut in celluloid opposite your idol?”

“I wish.” Laughing, I accept the butter knife from him. “I’ve got a one-liner role as a nameless groupie opposite some guy playing Erik.” I shrug. “With zero acting talent, I had to beg and bribe my way to this part. Worth every penny, though.”

“I saw the receipts. King’s ransom level.” He snort-laughs. “But I fully support you realizing your dreams. What I don’t get is why go through this trouble if Erik’s not in the film?”

“He’s an executive producer.” I offer, my cheeks burning. “I hope to bump into him on the set.”

“Stalker much?” He snickers.

I wash the last mouthful of my French roll down with a long sip from the navy-blue mug. “His voice has haunted me since I first heard him sing.”

“You were what, four?”

“Fourteen.”

“What did you know? You were a kid, so you fell for the bad boy with a guitar, and too much attitude.”

I shake my head. “That’s the thing. Even then, I recognized his talent. After all, I come from a musical family; although I’m the black sheep.”

Hadley’s green eyes get as round as those of anime characters. “You? Ms. By the Book? How come your family considered you a black sheep?”

“No musical skills.” I raise my shoulders and let them fall as if that was not a big thing, pretending the memories didn’t poke my chest like a hot iron.

“Oh, I’m so dense.” He slaps his forehead. “Sorry. I forgot. I’m a dumb ass.”

I offer him a lopsided smile, squeezing his hand. “No harm done.”

By you, I add to myself.

He pauses for a beat, scanning my face as if for signs I was hiding something.

I grin until my cheeks hurt.

He nods. Still knitting his eyebrows, he nudges me on. “You were about to educate me on why you love Erik Crawford’s music.”

“There’s a haunting quality to his lyrics that mesmerizes me. Not to mention his singing fits them to perfection.”

“How so?”

“He’s got tears in his voice. I hear them loud and clear.”

He wraps long fingers around my shoulder. “If you say so. Be it as it may, what I’m saying here is keep your guard up. Protect that big heart of yours. Remember the concert we attended in sophomore year?”

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