snob. Tim’s is fine. But maybe I’ll hit the café one morning this week. Might be a good idea to get to know the neighborhood.” I followed him into the studio kitchen, where it smelled faintly of coffee and fresh air. Previously a sunroom, he’d said. It was the only room in the studio that had a window that was actually open, sunshine streaming in.
He poured me a steaming mug. “Help yourself to cream and sugar and whatever. It’s all there.” He motioned at the counter and the fridge next to it.
“Thank you.” I fixed my coffee while he poured his own. I noticed his was in a reusable black mug that said Good Morning, Handsome in gold script. “Did you buy yourself that mug?” I said dryly, wondering if he’d appreciate my sass.
“It was a gift,” he said equally dryly. “From my little sister.”
“She thinks highly of you.”
“One may wonder why.”
“Does she come over a lot?”
“Not really. Maybe a couple times a month. She’ll call first.”
I wondered if he always answered that call.
He’d responded to my text this morning, but he had already paid me a whack of cash, so it was in his interest to open the door and let me in here to earn that giant paycheck.
“Come to think of it,” he said, “Xander doesn’t always call first. Neither does my friend Dean, so if you find some shaggy haired guy in tight jeans with a big mouth loping around, that’s my former lead singer. Just point him in the direction of the food and he’ll leave you alone.”
“Right. Dean Slater? I kinda familiarized myself with your former band members’ names and listened to your album and such.” I glanced at him while I stirred my coffee. “I thought it would be appropriate, so I don’t make an ass of myself not knowing something I should know.”
“That’s cool,” he said neutrally. His eyes narrowed a little as he scanned my face, and maybe my hair? “Actually, I take it back. If you see Dean around, let me know. I’ll throw him a beer and try to steer him off your scent.”
“Dean likes girls with pink hair?” I ventured lightly.
I let that compliment go by like he hadn’t even said it. Just fixing my coffee here.
“He usually drops in when he’s in town,” he went on. “Him and Xander like to show up unannounced so I don’t have a chance to tell them not to.”
“That’s what friends are for. I do it to Danica all the time.” I grinned. “Anyone else?”
“That’s about it. No one else really comes over without calling first. They can’t get to the house anyway. Xander has a remote for the gate and Dean scales the fence. I actually offered him a remote, but he prefers to skulk in like a cat burglar. The security company swings by once a week to do a random check. They’ve caught him a couple times over the years. I think he likes the challenge and the element of danger.”
“So, if I happen upon him getting caught by the security guys…?”
He smirked faintly. “Just pretend we don’t know him.”
“Right. And how do I get into the house if I can’t reach you? Like if I text or call and you don’t answer?”
“You can use the house keys I gave you, anytime. And I’ll leave the studio open.”
“Okay.”
“Why don’t we get you set up?”
“Sure.”
I followed him back into the control room. “Do you like it dark?”
He looked at me like he wasn’t sure what I was asking.
“The shades,” I said, pointing at the window. “Do you mind if I open them?”
“Oh. Sure.” He moved to open them for me, and light flooded the room. Dust moats glittered in the sunbeams that shone down through the trees and into the room. “Uh, it may have been a while since I opened those.”
“Well, thank you for opening them for me.” I got busy pulling out my laptop. I noticed the pens he’d set carefully on my desk in a little holder for me, and the lined pad of paper. “If we need any office supplies, should I just get some or check with you first?”
“Anything like that, Merritt orders for me.” He settled into his rolling chair on his side of the small room. “She’s the studio manager at Little Black Hole. She’s there part-time and handles any supplies or equipment I need. The studio assistants will do runs back and forth from LBH to