Page 107 of Unspoken Words
Connor stopped playing and smiled. “I know you can. That’s why I hired you.”
“About that,” I said, removing my glasses and placing them on top of my notebook. “We still haven’t discussed the terms of my contract.”
“That’s becausewe’renot going to.”
“What do you mean? Of course we are.”
“No, you and Jackson will. Or you won’t. Basically, I stipulated my share to be split fifty-fifty with you. This is our album, not mine.”
“Connor, no. Are you insane?”
“I’d like to think not.”
“For starters, this is notouralbum, it’s yours. I’m just a co-writer. And, secondly, ARE YOU INSANE?”
He chuckled.
“Stop that! This is not funny.Youare not funny. Ugh! I’ll be sorting this out with Jackson tomorrow. Trust me, they’ll be no more of this,” I said, gesturing to the room and what we’d been doing, “until the contract is sorted.”
Connor hopped off his stool, opened his guitar case, and shut the instrument inside. “Let’s go. I’m beat.”
“Don’t ignore me. I’m serious.”
“I’m not ignoring you. I’m just calling it a day.”
Narrowing my eyes, I checked the time on my watch. It was nearly six o’clock. “Okay. We did good today.”
We gathered our stuff and made our way to the parking lot, the late summer evening air warm and inviting.
“So where to?” he asked, once again opening the car door for me.
“Um … home?”
“How ‘bout a movie instead?”
I smiled. It had been so long since I’d seen a good movie. But I also needed to check in with Byron. It had been days since we spoke.
Sensing my deliberation, Connor added. “I hear the new Adam Sandler one is funny. Something about a water boy?”
“Oh, I love him. Happy Gilmore is one of my favourite movies.”
Connor let go of the car door and placed his hands on my hips, his chest pressed against my back.
My legs nearly buckled at the feel of him, and I had to brace my hand on the car. “Wh—”
He started swaying us in unison, from side to side, while reciting what Chubbs had said and done in the movie about golf being all in the hips.
I relaxed and burst out laughing, stepping out of his embrace because the feel of him so close was everything but could be nothing.
“Oooh, a little tap tap tappy, ay?” he said, mimicking Adam Sandler.
“Stop it, you goose.”
He chuckled. “So what do you think? You wanna go see The Waterboy with me?”
I did, I really did, for old time’s sake. “Sure. Why not?”
We both climbed into the car, and Connor pulled out of the parking lot, both of us looking at each other, smiling, and looking away. Repeat. I felt like a kid again, and for the first time in a long time, I was genuinely excited about something so mundane like going to the movies, and with Connor of all people. It was such a weird yet familiar feeling, and I loved it. So when his phone rang and his face crumpled at the caller ID, I wasn’t surprised at all that our bubble was about to burst.
