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“I know the feeling.”
She steps into the stairwell.
I stare at the dark green door as it closes. She’s gone.
I pull in a deep, long breath through my nostrils, and rake my fingertips through my hair. A feeling of frustration surges up through me.
I will never know what it’s like to hold Gwen Temple. I will never kiss her. This is an intoxicating game, but it’s one I can’t win.
I retreat into the studio and fall back against my seat with a heavy sigh.
Leo and Jordan watch me.
“Whoa,” Leo says with a long exhale. “You got it bad, man.”
“Nah.” I pull my mic toward me.
The hard knuckles of Jordan’s fist knock my arm. “Dude, you do. Own it.”
“Guys, she’s my assistant. That’s it.”
“She’s a keeper, is what she is,” Leo counters. “The kind of woman you meet once in a lifetime.”
Jordan nods. “The kinda girl you could introduce to your mom.”
“And, dude, your mom would be over the moon,” Leo says, “after all the no-good broads you’ve been with.”
“What are you guys talking about?”
“That chick from Austin, who wouldn’t stop complaining about the cold when you took her skiing with all of us,” Leo says, thumb out. He adds his pointer finger. “The model from Brazil who wouldn’t let you surf because she was so clingy.”
Jordan props his elbows on the table. “Your lady-friend from Morocco, who insulted Anna’s dress. The girl you took to Australia over the summer, who was so rude to the airline staff.”
Leo props up three more fingers and ticks them off one by one with the other hand as if he’s making some official list. “Heidi, Jenna, Laura. All of them are less-than-awesome—and that is an understatement because I’m being cool. The girl you met at my birthday party. What was her name?”
I groan. “Vanessa.”
“Right. Her. She was lame, man. She threw a fit later that night because her cab didn’t come fast enough. I tried to talk to her for a minute, and all she did was rant about how the bar couldn’t compare to clubs in NYC. I don’t know why you always go for snobbish, rude, shallow girls.”
“I know why,” Jordan says. He adjusts his glasses. “He goes for women he knows he’ll never fall for. That’s the safe route.”
“Totally,” Leo agrees. “You got it, Jordan, bro. That’s the pop psychology version of it.”
Jordan hooks his thumb to the door. His eyes, behind his lenses, drill into mine. “She’s different, dude. She was nice to us. She seems grounded. Thoughtful, kind, genuine. She’s special, and you know it.”
I do know it.
But it doesn’t matter.
“Guys, quit giving me crap about the women I pick. I don’t give you a hard time about your wives.”
“That’s because Anna is an angel.” Jordan adjusts his mic.
We all know we have to get started soon with this recording.
Time is money. We all have busy schedules. We book two hours for this once a week, and we don’t go over.
So, if we don’t start soon, we’ll be screwed.
