“Thanks,” she answered, not sure whether she wanted him to continue touching her or take his hand away. He was attractive, there was no question about that. Millions of women all over the globe would kill to be sitting in her seat right now with his thumb on their bare skin. But across from her was an entirely different kind of man—the one she’d dreamed about since she was a teenager in her room playing their albums on repeat. But that was a fantasy, and nothing more. He was very much taken, while Mike, who had his own brand of charm, was very much available. Or so she assumed. The shot she’d done kicked in, and she relaxed, letting her shoulders lean back a little into his arm.
“I’m not saying she’s not smart, Mike,” Rusty said. “But no one can truly predict how they’ll react to this life untilthey’ve tested it out. I’m saying it’s okay for her to quit if it’s not working.”
Nodding, Claudia said, “Thanks, I appreciate that, but I already know I’m going to love everything about this. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted in my entire life. The last thing I’d do is screw this up. I just want to write music and sing with you guys.”
“You can go ahead and write all the songs you want, but we’re not going to play them,” Mike said, removing his hand to grab a cigarette from Steven’s carton. He held it between his fingers and gestured toward Zane. “That’s an honor that belongs to the big dog.”
The two men exchanged a look that reminded Claudia of her parents when one of them had touched a nerve, but they couldn’t say anything because her grandparents were visiting.
Dean cleared his throat. “Zane writes the music these days. It’s an arrangement with Full Moon.”
Claudia masked her disappointment with a smile. “Of course, I’m not here to upset the apple cart. I’m here to help.”
Dean sat forward in his chair, looking eager to change the subject. “Anyway, we’re getting ahead of ourselves with all this talk about touring. We’ll start you off easy. The next few months will be spent in the studio recording a greatest hits album. That means days only, no overnighters. No time crunches.”
Warmth radiated through her. She, little Claudia Crawford of Nebraska, was going to have her voice on a greatest hits album that would be heard by millions of people.
Before she could enjoy the moment too long, Dean said, “That’ll give us some time to work on your look.”
Her heart sunk. “My look?”
“Yeah, you know,” he answered, putting out his cigarette. “You looked like Madonna at the first audition and today you’re a flower child. This is much better, in my humble opinion, but anyway, we’ve got a great stylist who will help you nail that down.” He sniffed. “And you’ll have some time to get in shape.”
Tears pricked the backs of her eyes, but she forced them to stay put. “Sure, yeah.”
Dean looked panicked. “Oh, hey, I’m not saying you need to lose weight or anything. I just mean that performing is physically taxing, especially night after night. You’re on your feet, dancing and moving the whole time, and you can’t run out of breath.”
Zane gave Dean a warning look. “Anyway, don’t worry about that. We rehearse for weeks before we tour. That’ll get you stage ready. But for now, we record.”
Wanting to sound like she knew all about ‘the biz,’ she said, “So you’ve decided to rerecord rather than remixing?”
“Yeah, Zane here is a perfectionist,” Steven told her. “He keeps coming up with ways to improve stuff we put out years ago,”
Zane was the picture of modesty with a slight shrug. “It’s a curse. It means I’m never quite satisfied.”
She smiled at him, her eyes locking on his. “I’m the same way. It’s probably why I’ve never tried to record a song. They never feel like they’re done to me.”
Steven held up his shot glass and grinned at her. “Claudia Crawford, a woman not easily satisfied…”
Mike leaned toward her and touched his shoulder to hers. “You clearly haven’t been with the right guy yet.”
She did that thing women have done since the beginning of time—she laughed and pretended to be flattered. Well, the truth was she was a little flattered. How could shenot be? The man could have anyone he wanted. Beyond that though, she was disappointed because he was treating her like a conquest instead of a fellow musician. But at least she was here.
“All right, Mike, don’t make me get the fire hose out. We need to keep everything professional,” Zane told them. “For this to work long term, Claudia needs to be like a sister to us.” He smiled at Claudia. “So, Claud, what kind of songs do you write?”
She blushed at him and shrugged. “Ballads mostly. I’m sure none of them are any good though.”
“I bet that’s not true,” he answered.
Shaking her head, she said, “Seriously. Everything I write ends up sounding very whiny or overly dramatic.”
Zane gave her that look again—the one that could melt an iceberg down to nothing in under a minute. “People love dramatic.”
And in that moment, she found herself believing in a world where people heard her songs. They turned up the radio and sang their hearts out in their cars on their way to work. They slow-danced in their kitchens (or maybe even at their weddings) with someone they loved while she sang words that came from her soul.
“I’d love to hear your stuff sometime,” Zane said. “When you’re ready.”
“Sure.” She already was.