“Holy crap.” Her mouth formed this delightful circle.
Settling back on the bench next to her, I nodded to the packet. “Open it?”
“Do you know what it is?”
“I have an idea,” I told her. “But it’s the kind of thing I need my green-eyed girl to help me with…”
Her hand was shaking as she slit open the envelope, and I helped brace it so she could pull out the thick wad of paper. There was a CD in the mix, too.
My CD.
I set it on the rack next to the music sheets, and she turned the packet right side up to read the cover letter.
Mr. Rhys,
Per our conversation, I’ve included a sample contract for your attorneys to look over. We think you’d be a good fit, and we would like you to consider working with us to develop an album. You’ve got a great sound, and we think you can do great things with it.
She jerked her head up and stared at me. “Ian, they want you to record with them.”
I cleared my throat. “Yeah,” I said slowly. “It’s not a guarantee of anything. I’d have to write some new stuff and get it recorded, and they’d want to give me feedback and I’d probably have to go to them at some point. I don’t even know if this is…”
She didn’t let me finish the thought, her lips on mine burned the words right off my tongue. Packet dropped into her lap and half-forgotten, she had her hand in my hair, and I twisted to pull the rest of her right up against me and into my lap.
The clang of the keys broke us apart, and Frankie stared at me, almost glassy-eyed. “Do you want to do it?”
I hesitated.
“Don’t think about it. Just first reaction. Is this something you want to do?”
“Only if you’ll do it with me,” I told her. That was my first reaction. I loved the music, I loved playing. I loved writing it.
I loved her more.
“You know I’ll help you,” she said, staring at me like I was an idiot.
“No, I mean, I want you to sing with me.” I had thought about this. Especially after I caught her singing along one day, unaware anyone was listening. When she forgot about everything else, she had the most gorgeous voice. All she needed was a little faith in herself and a little practice. “I want you to help me pick the songs, tell me what you think. I want you.”
Her eyes widened, and she said, “Ian…”
“No pressure,” I promised. “We have time to think about it. And I haven’t talked to anyone else about this either. Just you.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
That hadn’t even been a question.
With some reluctance, I settled her back on the bench and then turned to the keyboard. From the corner of my eye, I caught her staring down at the letter and then looking up at me. I meant it when I said I wanted her with me.
“Okay,” I said, flexing my fingers. “I’ll play it through a couple of times, and you follow along. Then when you’re ready, jump in and sing.”
“And when I butcher it?” She made a face.
I chuckled. “We’ll fix it.” I bumped her hip. “Trust me.”
Even if she rolled her eyes, she moved the packet so she could look at the lyric sheet.
It took me three passes, but she joined me singing on the fourth.
By the fifth pass, her voice gained confidence.
On the sixth?
I let her do all the singing, and it was everything I could want it to be.
For Your Consideration
Archie: What are you guys doing for the holiday break?