Page 76 of The Fate of Us

I back away. “Your bathroom is right outside, first door to your right. There should be clean towels in the cabinet in there.”

“You mean this isn’t your room?”

I scrub my hands over my face. “Look, Claire. It took a lot for me to agree for you to stay here. Don’t push it. You know there is no way we are staying in the same room. We aren’t a couple, we aren’t married. This is me doing you a favor.”

She gives me that pouty face again and I think back to my conversation with Carson. “Now I need to get some work done. There is food in the kitchen. If you make something please clean up after.”

“Fine,” she states matter-of-factly.

“I need to get some work done before I head into the office.”

“Want me to make us dinner tonight?”

I pinch my eyes shut, she clearly doesn’t get the picture or she is trying to work her way into my life. “I have to work late.”

“Maybe tomorrow then?”

“We’ll see.” That answer seems to be enough for her to leave me alone.

I head back upstairs and to my bedroom. I change into workout clothes and lock the door behind me.

I might have let Claire into my house but I am not letting her into my life. And she sure as hell isn’t allowed in my bedroom.

I head to the basement and get a workout in. I could use a nap but there is no way I am going to get any sleep with her around.

23

Anna

The last threedays have been crazy. I’ve been getting up at six a.m. to do yoga, relax and rebalance before heading into the studio by eight in the morning. I spend ten hours a day working on music before I get whisked away to record companies, small venues, hell, even houses to showcase my songs.

Austin asked me this morning if I could stay another week. Let me know I could crash at his house just so I could get more exposure and not run myself down the last few days of the workshop.

I told him I would think about it. But I don’t know if I want to stay. I love Nashville. It feels like a second home. But that’s the thing, it’s second. My heart belongs in Asheville.

I need to talk to Noah but I am still scared to call him to find out what is going on between him and Claire. Mason assures me everything is fine but I still worry. Even though I know I shouldn’t. I didn’t ask Mason if he showed Noah the video. I can only assume he hasn’t because I know Noah would be calling me the second he heard the song. I should apologize to his face but he knows I express my words better through lyrics.

I slouch down into a chair outside one of the practice rooms. Austin and a few of the other mentors want me to write and record a new song today. They want me to show the big five labels how quickly I can write a song. I think it’s stupid. I could write ten songs in a day but that doesn’t mean any of them are good.

The ones I spend time on are the ones that make you feel. I know I can write one of those songs in a day but I need to be in the mood. I need the inspiration. I need to feel the music in my bones.

I scratch out lyrics and flip to a new page in my notebook. I’ve already gone through five pages of scratched out nonsense. Nothing seems to be hitting me in the gut with the words I put on paper.

I reach over for my coffee, the one lifeline I have had the last few days and find my cup empty. I groan and pull myself out of my chair. Might as well get some more if I am going to get this done today. I have six hours and forty-two minutes to write and record a song. My future is grim.

I walk down the hall of the studio we are in. It’s huge and owned by one of the best producers in Nashville. There are six separate rooms to record, three practice rooms, a conference room, a large kitchen, and an enormous lounge. It’s the kind of studio I wouldn’t mind being in all day every day.

I reach the kitchen and slam my mug down when I notice the pot of coffee is empty. The rule is if you take the last cup, you make a new pot. It’s even written on a note above the machine and on a note taped to the cabinet with the mugs.

I pull out the coffee grounds and start brewing a new pot when my phone rings. I pull it out of my pocket and answer without even looking at it. “Hello?”

“Anna? It’s Carson.”

Why the hell is Carson calling me? Unless something happened to Noah.

“Noah. Is he okay?” I ask slightly panicked.

“Yeah he’s fine.”

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