Page 54 of Hold Still

“Iced tea, if you have it.”

I head off to the kitchen to get his drink and pour a glass of water for myself. While I want something stronger to take the edge off, it’s getting too close to the time I have to leave for the concert tonight. Walking outside, I watch Aiden toss a stick for Bans.

“Here you go.” I place his glass down on the patio table.

“Thanks. What’cha been up to?”

He’s fishing for information about McKenna. Not going there. “I’ve been busy.” I take a sip of the water and put my glass down next to his, my temper cooling by degrees.

“Writing?”

I nod. “I completed one song and am a good way through a second.”

He plays with the ice in his glass. “Can I hear the one that’s done? You kinda said I could yesterday.”

Music soothes my soul. “Sure. Let me go get my guitar.” I head inside as my assistant and my dog continue to play.

When I return, Aiden’s on the phone. He mouths, “Ginger,” and points.Great.

“Ozzy just came out. I’m going to put him on speaker.”

I force a smile. “Hey, Ginger.”

“Hey there, Ozzy. Aiden tells me you’re writing again.”

No need to hide the fact. “Yup.”

“Glad to hear it. We need your new songs soon.”

“I was going to play my newest one for him. Want to hear it?”

“You know I do.”

I chuckle. This business is nothing but predictable. I can practically hear the dollar signs racking up in her head over the phone. “Okay. It’s called ‘Take Me.’” I begin to play the guitar and Bans lies down on her bed. Aiden sips his iced tea. When I finish, Aiden whistles. “That’s hotter than the hinges of Hell.”

I salute him with my glass of water.

“I love the bridge,” Ginger praises. “And the Latin beat is different for you. I can already hear a full band behind you. With some work, this should blow up the charts.”

My chest feels lighter at her praise. “I hope so.”

Aiden gets to his feet. “I think this is your best song. Better than any of your previous hits, and they were hot.”

“Thanks, dude.”

Ginger clears her throat. “And I have a surprise for you that’ll really kick everything up.”

My stomach cramps. “Oh. What’s the surprise?”

“Now what’s the fun if I tell you? You’ll have to wait and see. Do you have any other songs written?”

My mind goes to ‘Honesty,’ but it’s not ready. “Nothing so far.”

“Well, you may want to add ‘Take Me’ to your setlist. You can really gauge how well the song’ll do by playing it live.”

I consider her suggestion. “Makes sense. I have rehearsal in,” I check my watch, “an hour. I’ll introduce the song to the band.”

“Great. I’ll let you go—talk with you later.” The line goes dead.

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