Page 23 of A Christmas Duet

Chapter Nine

Because Hailey was nervous about cooking for Jay, she was in the kitchen instead of spending time working on her Christmas song. While in town, she’d logged on to Google to check him out. What she’d learned made her all the more nervous. Jay was the lead guitarist for a well-known band. She’d heard their music for years. It had been big news when the group had broken apart. The article mentioned the lawsuits. Alex, the lead singer, had ventured out on his own successful solo career. The only other name mentioned was Jay, who had turned to producing music. Knowing what she did, Hailey was both impressed and intimidated. It was clear from their earlier conversation that Jay preferred to put the past behind him. He’d downplayed his success. She was stunned at theinterest and encouragement he’d given her. And grateful, too. She had to remind herself, he wasn’t in town to work. He was in Podunk to celebrate Christmas. If he found her songs worthy of his consideration, he’d say so. Hailey had no intention of using him for her own purposes.

Even before Jay was due to arrive, the table was set, the pasta water was boiling, and the sauce was simmering on the stovetop. The salad was already prepared and sat on the top shelf of the refrigerator. Her one fear was overcooking the spaghetti noodles, and she was determined to keep a close eye on the time. This was the best Hailey could do, and she prayed it would be good enough.

When she heard his truck door close, she inhaled and nervously rubbed her palms together like she was grating sandpaper, wanting this evening to be perfect.

Jay knocked and she let himin.

“I brought wine,” he said, lifting a bottle in each hand. “I didn’t know if you preferred red or white, so I brought both.”

“I’m fine with either,” she assured him.

He set the wine down on the kitchen countertop and returned to his truck for his guitar. When he came back, he balanced the guitar against the wall by the picture window and joined Hailey in the kitchen.

“Something smells good,” he said, sniffing the air appreciatively.

“That’s dinner, and like I said earlier, don’t expect much.” She did her best to disguise how nervous she was about this meal. “I’m really not much of a cook.”

“No problem. I’m not a picky eater. Ask my mother.”

His words of reassurance helped settle her nerves. “Everything is ready. I’ll warm the bread in the oven while the pasta finishes cooking, and then we can eat.”

“While you do that, I’ll open the wine,” Jay offered. “Is the red okay?”

“It’s perfect.” She noticed he’d brought a bottle of Carmenère. She had not heard of the varietal before and said as much.

Jay held up the bottle for her to examine. “Carmenère was one of the original six varieties from Bordeaux. It was planted in the New World, but was confused with the merlot grape until 1994, when the Carmenère grape was recognized in Chile.”

Hailey found the story fascinating. “Just hearing the history behind it already makes it a favorite.”

Jay searched the drawers until he found a corkscrew, then manipulated the bottle as though he were a seasoned wine steward.

While Jay filled their wineglasses, Hailey set the salad in the middle of the table. It wasn’t long before the timer on her phone dinged, indicating that the pasta was cooked. She drained it, sliced the bread, and broughtboth to the table. Jay joined her, and before long they were enjoying the wine, the dinner, and talking, as if they’d been lifelong friends.

Hailey had never met anyone, man or woman, who she felt this comfortable with after such a short acquaintance. The wine was everything Jay had claimed, rich and medium-bodied; it was the perfect complement to their meal.

As dinner progressed, Hailey noticed how Jay often steered the conversation away from himself, another indication that he’d rather not discuss business. It was as if he regretted saying as much as he had earlier. He seemed far more interested in learning about her, especially when it came to her love of music and creating her own.

From her dating experiences since Zach, Hailey found this a welcome change. The men she’d met up to this point had been huge disappointments. Her male companions seemed to find it essential that she know every detail of their lives. It was almost as if their meeting was more of a job interview than a date. Most bragged about their success in the business world, their various achievements and athleticism. They seemed to think Hailey was fortunate to have met them and, after a single evening out, she would swoon at their feet.

By the end of the evening, Hailey doubted any one of them remembered her name, as the entire conversationhad centered on them. Most were shocked when she declined a second date.

Once they finished eating, Jay carried their dishes into the kitchen, and they worked together on the cleanup. Hailey hadn’t expected him to wash dishes. This man seemed too good to be true.

When done, they sat, side by side, in front of the fire with a second glass of wine. Hailey felt warm and relaxed.

“Dinner was delicious,” Jay commented. “Thanks for inviting me.”

The spaghetti had worked out well, and Hailey was pleased. “I’ve done most of the talking tonight. Tell me something about you. What do you like best about being a musician?”

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “The last few years it’s been more about what I don’t like. At first everything was a thrill, working hard to make a name for ourselves, playing in crappy bars. Performing live was always the best part, but even that eventually started to feel like a grind. But that life is over and I’m thankful. In the years since, I realized that I was dying creatively, which is the main reason I started up Cantor Music. I can sleep in my own bed and eat regular meals. The best part of what I do now is finding talent and developing it. It’s definitely an investment of time and money, but so far it’s really satisfying; I’m grateful for the opportunity.”

Hailey could understand that. She sincerely loved working with the teens at the high school and spent a lot of time encouraging them to grow as musicians. Some took her words to heart, others didn’t. The ones who discouraged her were the students who assumed this would be an easy class and attended for the credit with no real desire for any kind of music education.

“Producing is a whole new field for me. It’s going to take some time to get my feet on the ground, so to speak.” He reached for his guitar and strummed a few chords, as if eager to move the conversation to other subjects.

“You mentioned college earlier,” Hailey said, unwilling to drop the subject completely. “What was your degree in?”

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