Page 30 of Just Business

Austin’s smile is big, causing his eyes to crinkle at the corners, and for the first time I notice he has laugh lines fanning out from them. Laugh lines proving that, despite whatever demons he’s been battling, he’s had a life of laughter with the marks to show for it.

"Yeah, sure. But I’d hate for you to start over on my account."

I wave him off. "It's my favorite show. I don't mind at all."

We clean the kitchen together, although I try to convince him that if he cooks I clean, but he’s not having it. Each time he passes me a wet dish, our fingertips brush, sending a zing up my spine. Something is happening here and I’m unsure how long I can keep up my mask of professionalism. It’s basically slipped all the way off at this point, anyway.

With Honey tucked under my arm, we head to the living room. It’s still early enough in the evening that we can probably get in a few episodes before we have to call it a night, if he’s up for it. I settle into my spot on one end of the couch and he takes a seat right beside me, invading my personal space. When I prop my feet onto my coffee table, he does the same, grinning over at me as he rests his socked foot against mine.

It turns out, Austin is the perfect TV watching partner. He laughs in all the right places, which is a giant point in his favor. One time I was on a date with a guy I met on a dating app, and within ten minutes he'd already told me he thought this show was stupid. I asked for the check and left on the spot, not even looking back. There’s no time for that blasphemy in my life.

At some point, I must doze off. I don't remember it, but I wake disoriented, unsure if I've slept for a few hours or a few days. I'm curled up on my couch with a blanket over me that I'm sure I didn't wrap myself in. Looking around to get my bearings, I notice a note on my coffee table. It’s folded in half like a triangle so that the note stands up for me to see.

Sleep tight. See you tomorrow at the studio.

-Austin

His handwriting is the same messy scrawl from his songwriting notebook, and it plucks at a string in my heart, picturing him taking the time to write it before covering me with a blanket and tiptoeing out.

My phone says it's three a.m., so I let sleep pull me back under.

As Tuesday bleeds into Wednesday, and Wednesday into the rest of the week, Penny and I fall into a routine. Each morning we walk to the studio together and work our asses off to make every song the best version of itself. Her band works harder than I’ve ever seen a band work, even rewriting their parts when necessary to match the exact sound I envision for my music. After recording wraps each evening, I grab a quick shower and let myself into her house to start dinner.

Since my first day with her, I’ve noticed that Penny doesn’t know how to slow down. It’s like she always has to be doing something—whether it’s fielding emails or working on social media posts. From the start, she told me she doesn’t have a spare moment in her day—and I’ve witnessed it firsthand. But gradually there’s been a shift, and she sits with me, engaged in our time together.

On Tuesday, Penny asked if I’d like to eat again at the diner, but I declined. I’m perfectly happy having dinner in her quiet kitchen each night. In fact, there’s nowhere I’d rather be. I’m filled with a dogged determination to get to know her better, and I love this one on one time with her. Like I promised, I feed her delicious meals and she opens up to me little by little. I’m aware the wine was what had her loose-lipped on Sunday because it’s clear she holds her cards close to her chest.

I know exactly what it looks like when a person has carefully erected walls around themselves. I’ve built mine up just as high and just as wide, but I’m determined to break down some of hers.

Now it’s Thursday, and we’re once again seated at her table, trading stories back and forth. Over chicken parmesan, Penny tells me that after she got her MBA she took an entry-level position at a record label in Nashville.

“Basically, I was a glorified coffee runner,” she clarifies. “I was determined to forge my own path without my dad or granddad’s help. I kept my family name a secret and worked my ass off. But no matter how hard I worked, my male co-workers got the promotions.”

Penny didn’t work at the same label I’m with, but if her experience was anything like what I’ve witnessed, she was doing a lot of coffee runs while old men ogled her ass when she wasn’t looking. The thought makes me physically sick to my stomach.

“Well, that explains why you kept it from me the first day I recorded.” I think back to the look on her face when I realized it was her picture on the wall of owners.

“Yep. I mean, I did get this position because of who I am. But on the days when I can get out of my head about it, I remind myself that I’m damn good at this, ya know?” Penny stabs her next bite of noodles with a little too much force. “The studio had what I refer to as a dry spell. Very few people were recording here, and the band was lucky they all made money off royalty checks. I’ve worked incredibly hard to get everything back to how it once was.”

I tilt my head. “Why a dry spell?”

Penny’s chest expands on an inhale, and she lets it out slowly. “The best way I can describe it is I think Dad lost his reason for being.”

She doesn’t elaborate, clearly speaking in shades of gray, and I can tell she’s ready for a change of subject.

“All right.” I set my fork down to get her full attention and she looks up from her dinner with one eyebrow arched. “Rapid fire questions. No time to think about it, just answers. Hidden talent?”

A shy grin spreads across her face. “I can say the alphabet backward.”

“Well, go on, let's hear it,” I say, motioning with my hand for her to show me.

Penny sets down her fork and sucks in a lungful of air. After a brief pause she begins:

“ZYXWVUT, SRQPONM, LKJ, IHG, FED, CBA. Me with sing you won't time next, CBA’s my know I now!”

When she finishes I slow clap for her, and she nods her head, flourishing her hand in a bow.

“Wow, Penny Miller. You’ve really outdone me in the talent department with that one. All right, your turn, fire away.”

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