Page 5 of Riding Danger

She pulled her hair into a messy bun on top of her head as she leaned against the piano. Like me she wore black sweatpants and trainers. Unlike me, she wore a yellow short sleeve crop top while I wore a loose black T-shirt.

I sat down at the piano. “I want something we can release as a single.”

“That’s the plan for me as well.”

She squinted for a moment as the light shone in her brown eyes before she turned away from the huge bay windows which allowed for enough natural light to brighten the room. It was a stark contrast to the dark hardwood floors that made the large room seem somewhat old school.

“I want us to do a cover. Something our audiences would recognize.”

“Which era? The eighties had some good love ballads. But the nineties were good, too.” I paged through my sheet music as I sat in front of the piano. “Also, do you prefer Pop or R&B?”

Her smile was somewhat devious. She had made her money being a pop star, we both had, but we both knew her first love was R&B. “R&B, I think. I have some songs I’ve written over the years that weren’t quite poppy enough. Those would sound great on an R&B album.”

Paging through the sheet music I brought with me, I discarded one after the other. While we both naturally had perfect pitch, she didn’t have as much of a range as I had. But she did have a powerful voice.

I smiled and handed her the sheet music for my first choice. It suited her voice and the power behind it. The male vocals were not taxing at all, but would require more control.

“This is perfect.” Her face lit up and the dimple in one of her cheeks deepened as she looked over the sheet music for the song. She took the sheet and grabbed a pen from the little table Everly kept in the corner by the guitar stand, and leaned over the piano we were working at. “We’ll need to transpose it into my key, though.”

While she did that, I poured us each coffee. The spread Everly had put out for us for breakfast was being cleared up because of a fourth-grade field trip. I asked the caterers to leave the coffee and we would take it back when we were done.

It didn’t take Layla long to make sure the song was ready for us. Usually I would get someone at the record label to do that sort of thing for me but Layla didn’t want them involved until she was ready to share.

I was glad she took a stand. I was almost ready to quit the label myself when she spoke out about artist rights and changed the way our contracts were written. She still had other issues, but for now, they gave us the freedom to work out here on our own without fear we would lose the rights to our work.

I played the song through once on the piano, to get an ear for it.I’ll Make You Safewas a beautiful ballade and I could see us making it our own.

Before I could start a second time, Everly walked into the studio. “The kids are here.” She clapped her hands as if it was something to get excited about. I wasn’t so sure. “I’ll take them to the desk and then bring them here. Then we can give a few of them a turn in the booth.”

“Do you want us in the booth? Or is rehearsal enough?” I wanted to be accommodating. Everly had always been nice to me. “Whatever you need from us.”

She nodded. “I’ve never had anyone here when they do the field trip. I think rehearsal is good. I usually ask if one or two of the kids want to try out the booth.”

“How does that usually go?” I smiled knowing that many kids loved to perform.

Everly’s lip twisted as she tried to hide her amusement. “I love their confidence, even if many of them cannot hold a tune.”

Layla stood up straight. I knew what went through her mind. It was one thing having a rough run through when it was just the two of us. For an audience, kids especially, she would try to give them the professional persona. We were so used to living under scrutiny, and we knew that one bad day or false note would put us in the tabloids for weeks.

Fortunately, Everly recognized Layla’s thoughts and waved her off. “They’re just kids, and I did tell them no cell phones would be allowed in the studio at all. I made sure to tell the teachers to let the parent chaperones know, too.”

That was good. Even though Layla’s shoulders relaxed, she still stood up straight. Once again, I started the introduction to the song and then opened with the male vocals. I messed up twice, and Layla only once, but we carried on singing through the entire thing. When we started recording, we’d probably do several takes. I was already thinking about the music video. The song was definitely going to be a single and we needed to make sure we had the perfect music video. Something the fans loved… An idea occurred to me. “Everly? What if we let them use their phones but ask for the footage?”

Everly moved her eyes to Layla. “You okay with that?”

“I think so.” My friend frowned at me. “You’re thinking about the music video, right?”

I stood and gestured for her to help me move the piano slightly. The angle of the light through the window would work better. I explained my concept, while Everly divided the classinto two groups. It would look more personal and intimate because it would be shot from the fourth-grade height. “If they don’t have phones, ask the adults to let the kids use theirs.” The more I thought about it, the more I loved the idea. “Hell, let them use our phones, too.” And then I paused. I was getting ahead of myself. I turned to Layla. “Unless you don’t like the idea.”

“Actually, I love it. The angle may not be the best, but that’s the point. No matter how unflattering or how we mess up, we keep the cameras rolling.”

Slowly, Everly nodded. “Just remember, as much as you are used to needing to do multiple takes, you cannot swear when you mess things up.”

That might prove to be a challenge. It wasn’t that I swore like a sailor, but I could get creative if I fucked up multiple times. Still, I nodded at Everly. “I will do my best.”

“You will do more than your best, Ryder.” She raised a brow at me. “There is a reason why I ban my own daughter from here when the school does their annual field trip.”

I smiled as I recalled what a potty mouth Skylar Moore had. As far as I could remember Skylar could swear with the best of them. Since I met her the first night I opened for her mother, she’d never been shy to voice her opinion… creatively. And she was still in my friendship circle, what the press referred to as the kiddie table at the award shows. Nothing had changed, she just knew better than to swear on camera.

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