Page 35 of High Note

Greggo gave her a high five, then directed her to the sandwiches she wanted.

Okay.

Okay, that was a win.

“Skyla, come get a turkey sammie!” Brenda called.

“Coming.” She hauled her ass up to go grab food, hoping for a cookie somewhere in there.

There were cookies—gluten-free chocolate chip for Geoff, peanut butter, and white chocolate macadamia.

That was just what she needed. A nice input of sugar. So Skyla grabbed one, nibbling as she watched the band wander and jabber and tease.

It didn’t take long at all before they were heading back to jam, the tape recording.

Kirsten was right there with them, keeping up as well as any studio musician they’d dropped in. They played well into the afternoon, then the evening, and she was sore by the time Greggo called it.

“Y’all, I need food. Real food,” he said.

“You are a spoiled brat!” she teased. “But yes. God, yes. I need something greasy and wonderful.”

“Oh, yeah. What’s good, Kirsten?” Mich asked.

“There’s a bistro, a good steak house, and there’s Cherry’s. It’s got pizza, sandwiches, appetizers—that sort of thing.”

“I can vouch for Cherry’s,” Skyla said.

“I want steak,” Greggo groused. “But I can take Blaine while y’all go somewhere else. Veggie people.”

“I’m not a vegetarian, dude. I just want a meatball and provolone sub the size of my head.” Skyla had expended a ton of energy over the last few days.

“Nonna’s. You’ll love it. Anyone else up for Italian food?” Kirsten carefully put her guitar away in its case.

“You two should go. We’re going to share pizza.” Andi didn’t seem mad at all.

“You sure?” She didn’t want to freeze anyone out.

“We’re positive. Go forth.” Mich waved them off.

“Eat tiramisu!” Brenda added.

“Do you like tiramisu?” Kirsten asked. “I mean, that’s pretty specific.”

“I do. I love it. I eat it all over the world, so I know from tiramisu.”

Kirsten snorted and arched one eyebrow at Skyla. “I bet you only eat it when you don’t have to sing that same night.”

“All that milk? You’re right,” Skyla chuckled. “But man I love it.”

“Yeah. I tend to eat after a gig too. I mean, not that mine are anything like yours.” Kirsten blushed dark. “I play at Cherry’s, and teach little kids.”

“Bah. I got lucky. I hit at the right time at the right place, and I have an uncle who’s a fiddle player for a lot of studio bands.” She shrugged. “It’s work, talent, and luck.”

“You’ve got that thing, Sky.” Kirsten shrugged. “That star thing. You really do. It’s—it’s a spark.”

She couldn’t deny that, that was for sure. She was the luckiest woman alive, and she was well aware of it.

And if she wished she had a little more of a personal life sometimes, well, that was the price she paid, right?

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