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“No rings, huh?” Zach said. “I heard you got divorced.”
“You remembered that but you didn’t know the name of Faith’s protégé?” She wondered who he did keep in touch with on the island. Lou—Faith’s mom and his step-mom—she supposed. Mina, knowing Mina. Some of the other kids he’d gone to school with, maybe? All of whom were well aware that Zach and Faith weren’t talking. So maybe it made sense that they’d stick to island news and not get in the middle of anything by talking about Faith to him. Though that also meant he hadn’t asked about Faith either.
“I’ve been busy,” Zach said. “Touring a lot.”
“Like father, like son.”
Zach frowned, gaze sharpening. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know exactly what it means.” She swiveled back to the mixer, trying to keep her temper in check. She had a job to do and it didn’t involve Zach Harper. Far better to focus on the musicians who were thrilled to be working with her. Inside the booth, Nessa and the guys were milling around in a way that suggested they were ready to go again. She hit the intercom. “Another take?” Nessa looked around, then nodded. She and the band began to move back to their places as Leah switched the intercom off again.
“Can that wait a minute? I really need to talk to you,” Zach said.
She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. “I’m working. These guys are working. You, on the other hand, are not. You already made it clear you don’t want to work with me. So you can wait until I’m done. Preferably somewhere else.” She turned back to watch the band settling into their places. She ran an eye over the mixer. Everything looked good.
“You know, technically, I own part of this place,” Zach said. “That makes me your boss.”
“Faith’s my boss,” Leah replied. “If you have a complaint about my attitude, you can talk to her. Tell her I have a complaint about yours while you’re at it.”
“C’mon, Leah, I was joking.”
“Well, maybe I just don’t find you very funny,” she said, giving Nessa a thumbs-up through the window. She hit record as the singer stepped up to her mic. “And maybe you should go wait out in the foyer. This is a private session, after all. Nessa’s new at this and she doesn’t need any distractions.”
“Am I a distraction?” Zach asked.
He was smiling, she could tell from his voice. Trying to charm her. Well, she wasn’t in the mood to be charmed. She wasn’t going to so much as look around.
“Not to me,” she said as she turned her attention to the music.
Zach strode out of the recording booth, annoyed. Though mostly with himself. He’d convinced himself that Leah would be okay after she’d had nearly twenty-four hours to cool down. He’d been wrong.
At this point, a smart man would probably retreat and try to redo the whole conversation tomorrow.
The main problem with that theory was that he didn’t think that Leah would be any happier with him tomorrow. And that apparently he wasn’t so smart.
He rolled his shoulders. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. He didn’t need the big studio yet. He had Grey’s. He just needed to work his way into his songs down there. Get used to the idea that he was finally going to do this.
He was halfway down the hall that led to the front of the building when the door at its far end swung open and Faith walked through, balancing a bakery box on one hand. She stopped when she saw him, looking startled.
“Zach,” she said warily.
“Faith,” he said back, mimicking her tone. He wasn’t really in the mood for another argument.
“What are you doing here?” she said. Absently she set the box down on the long counter that ran along half the hallway. The rest of the surface was covered with empty coffee mugs, neatly piled stacks of mics and cables, abandoned magazines, and all the other crap musicians left behind during the day. Faith didn’t seem to notice any of that. She just opened the box and withdrew a doughnut, biting into it. The smell that wafted over to him was amazing.
“Can I have one of those?” he asked.
She shrugged, still chewing, but pushed the box so it angled a little more toward him. Not exactly enthusiastic agreement, but he’d take it. He grabbed one of the doughnuts and took a bite.
As doughnuts went, it was pretty damn good. “Where are they from?” he said. “I don’t remember anywhere making stuff like this.”
“Stella Campbell took over the bakery on Main Street two years ago. She’s a genius,” Faith said.
“Don’t let Lou hear you say that,” Zach said.
“Well, if Lou ever decides to open a bakery, then I’m all hers,” Faith said. “But I don’t think that’s going to happen, and she insists on being a teacher instead of baking for me all day, so Stella is the next best thing.”
“I’ll say,” Zach said. He finished off the doughnut in two bites. “She could make a fortune if she moved to L.A. Or maybe San Francisco,” he amended. Los Angeles was full of health nuts these days. Ryder even drank kale smoothies. Maybe that was what had sent the guy off the deep end. He reached for another of the pastries. Faith smacked his hand away. “These are for Nessa and her band. And Leah.”
