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Faith linked her arm through her sister’s. “Come on, Mina. Let’s give the prodigal son some space.”
He followed them out to the front door. Mina kissed his cheek and hugged him tight as she said goodbye. At first he thought Faith wasn’t going to do the same but then she stood up on her toes and kissed him quick.
“Welcome home, you big dumbass,” she said quickly then ran down the stairs before he could respond.
“So, spill,” Leah demanded as she passed Faith a cup of coffee the next morning. She’d come armed for their weekly review of the studio’s schedule with salted caramel lattes and a box of pastries. All the better to weasel information about why Zach was home out of her best friend. Maybe that made her sneaky, but forewarned was forearmed and all that. If Zach was only here for a few days then she could just keep her head down and stay out of his way and there’d be no way of getting herself into trouble with nostalgic longing for the man.
If he was going to be here for longer however, that required a different plan. She opened the bakery box and pushed it across Faith’s desk. “Fresh from The Last Crumb this morning.”
Faith tried to look stern but failed miserably. “Don’t tell Caleb. He thinks I have a doughnut habit.”
“He’d be right,” Leah said. “But where he’s wrong is in thinking that there’s anything wrong with said habit. You run and do all that healthy stuff. The odd doughnut isn’t going to kill you.”
“I agree,” Faith said as she took one and bit into it. Her eyes closed in pleasure. “Plus, God, Stella is the best at doughnuts. If there was a doughnut Olympics, she’d win gold.”
“Totally.” Leah lifted the lid on her go cup, blowing on the coffee. Working in the studio for so many years had accustomed her to leaving her coffee abandoned way too long before she got around to drinking it. Call it supreme laziness in not wanting to get up and re-nuke it to heat it but she preferred it lukewarm these days. A fact that horrified her parents to the very core of their Italian American hearts but what they couldn’t see couldn’t hurt them.
She waited for Faith to finish chewing. “So, Zach?” she prompted as Faith wiped her mouth with a napkin and eyed the remaining contents of the box.
“You’re harshing my doughnut high,” Faith protested. “It’s too early to talk about my idiot brother.”
“There are always more doughnuts.” Leah pointed out. “And you’re going to have to tell me sooner or later. So get it over and done with and we can put him back on the ‘do not discuss list.’ What’s convinced the great Zach Harper to grace us with his presence?”
“Cone of silence?” Faith said.
Leah nodded. “In the vault.” She drew her hand over her lips in a zipping motion.
“Ryder’s having some sort of crisis. He’s decided to take a year off.”
“Shit,” Leah said. “That’s … not great for the rest of the guys. They must be pissed. They’ve been going from strength to strength. Bad enough to miss the summer touring season let alone a whole year. They’ll lose all their momentum.”
“Yep,” Faith agreed. “It’s kind of a dick move if you look at it from their perspective.”
“So Zach’s back to what−lick his wounds and make plans?”
Faith’s long blonde-brown hair bounced as she shook her head. “No, he wants to record some songs here. He’s thinking of making a solo album. Says he’s been writing.”
Leah almost spat out her mouthful of latte. Wow. So that was “no” to Zach only being on Lansing for a few days. Damn. She hadn’t expected that. And she was definitely going to need a Plan B for dealing with the oldest Harper.
Then the more sensible part of her brain caught up with what Faith had said. Zach wanted to record. Here on the island. Most likely in her studio. That was potentially complicated, but also potentially a fantastic opportunity.
“Who’s producing for him?” she asked, hoping she sounded casual.
Zach Harper making his first solo album in the same place where the album that had made his dad so famous had been recorded. That would sell a squazillion easy, as long as the music was good. And she knew Zach’s music was good. Ryder was the main songwriter for Fringe Dweller, but she’d heard enough of Zach’s music over the years to know the man had plenty of talent. The fact that he and Faith hadn’t taken off immediately had been more a product of youth and being slightly out of pace with where the market was at the time rather than their music being bad. If she could produce his album—or even some of the songs—then that would be the break she’d be looking for to take the next step in her career.
“He said he had feelers out. And that Eli was going to work with him on a few songs.”
Crap. She’d forgotten about Eli. He was also a sound engineer, one who was making a growing name for himself as a producer. Doing exactly what she wanted to do, in fact. And he was Zach’s best friend.
So that was a wrinkle in trying to get a toe in the door with Zach on his album.
She loved her job, but the itch to produce had been growing over the last few years. It had been a bone of contention between Joey and her. He didn’t like the idea of her doing something that would likely take her off-island for long chunks of time. She’d managed to do a little here and there but so far hadn’t found an act to take a chance on her who could give her the boost she needed. Faith had asked her to work with Nessa recording a few songs, but Zach was a whole different ballgame.
She chewed her lip.
“What?” Faith asked.
“Just … thinking,” she said. “About when we might have a studio for him,” she added, not ready to share her budding plan with Faith just yet.
