Page 10 of Christmas Music
She... knew I’d been in town? The music industry was a small place? It was a lie, to start with, because although it might be a small place, there were also tiers, and she was very definitely on a different tier than I was.
She’d known I was in town.
That tight ball in my stomach was now nothing more than a pile of loose yarn. And it was starting to get all warm and sparkly. Which was, you know,horrifying.
I cleared my throat and tried to regain my masculinity. “Yeah, I’ve been doing a show here or there. And as for this...” I gestured to the napkin, where I had indeed been writing down a couple of thoughts. “I don’t know how good it even is, but I had some things I wanted to get down before I lost them.”
Her eyes flicked down to the napkin, curious, and when she looked back up, they were... warm. “Can I see?”
I wanted to tell her no. I really, really did. But at the same time...
This girl was a professional. She had a record company talking about signing her. She was so much higher up in the business that I could really only see the soles of her cowboy boots. And as much as I hated to admit it, a part of me, really, really wanted to hear what she thought.
I slid the napkin toward her, holding my breath and doing my best not to get my hopes up. What did it matter, anyhow? She wasn’t the Judger Of All Music. If she didn’t like it, it didn’t matter. She wasn’t the one running the contest.
But shewasOlivia Johns.
I watched her read through the lyrics, look away, and then read them again, and when she looked up at me, her eyes were somehow glowing. Misty and green and bright and...
“Connor, this is really good,” she said, her tone suddenly so different from what it had been before. I felt like she’d stripped a mask off and was only now using her real self.
And she was using it to tell me my lyrics were good.
I shrugged it off. “Well I don’t know about that. It’s just something I jotted down before I lost it.”
Her hand shot out and rested on mine, squeezing a bit. “I’m serious. These are good. I’m great at music but struggle with the lyrics, so I’ve developed a keen appreciation for someone who can write them. These are... good.”
I fought very, very hard to keep myself from preening at the compliment, and shrugged again. “Yeah, well, thanks. I guess. So...” I tipped my head, giving her the universal ‘what exactly is it you want’ gesture. “I’m sure you didn’t come over just to ask to see my lyrics.”
She laughed. “No, you’re right. I didn’t. The thing is...” She took a deep breath, looking almost as nervous as I felt, and then sat up and straightened her shoulders a bit. “The thing is, I’m entering the contest too, but I don’t have all the things I need to do a song and I was hoping... Well, I was hoping...”
“What do you need?” I asked, without even thinking about it.
“A studio,” she said, her voice breaking a bit. “I can’t write without one, and my mom and dad tore mine down the day after I left. I don’t think Arberry has one, unless they’ve built it since I left, and—”
“I have one,” I said, interrupting her. “I have a big one, in the basement at the ranch. You can use it.”
She caught her teeth in her lip and her eyes, if possible, got even bigger. “Really?”
“Sure,” I said, keeping my tone casual. “I mean, maybe we can even work together. You know, help each other out, that sort of thing.”
Now that my brain was kicking back into gear—and overruling other parts of my body—I realized that this was actually a really, really good idea. She was Olivia Johns. On the verge of signing a contract of her own. She knew what music execs liked to hear, and no matter how much she said otherwise, she was really good.
I’d heard her music.
I’d been to her shows.
She knew a lot more about making music than I did. And if I was going to win this contest, I could use all the help I could get.
Her face had grown bright like the sun had just come up on the horizon, and she was giving me the biggest grin I’d ever seen on her face. “Really?” she asked, clapping her hands like a kid.
I wanted to reach out and grab those hands. I wanted to thread my fingers through hers and take her home right now to get to work. I wanted to do a whole lot of things that had nothing to do with music and everything to do with making her smile like that all night.
Instead, I just grinned back and told her that I was definitely serious and that we should get started tomorrow. She knew where the ranch was and could show up whenever she wanted to. She gave me another enormous smile, all green eyes and sparkling teeth, and then practically danced back to Parker, who was watching the entire exchange with a typically Parker expression of extreme doubt.
I watched her go and then turned to find Dev wearing a matching expression. He looked at me long and hard, and then shook his head.
“Always playing the hero,” he muttered.
